What is Erotica?
Erotica is a highly misunderstood genre. But like some of the greatest figures and thinkers in Western history – those that are typically misunderstood by the masses, are misunderstood for a reason: because they resonate at an uncommon frequency and, in the end, they are tremendously complex in content and pungent in texture, color and composition.
Erotica is not pornographic. It can be explicit, but typically erotica does not have the sole intent of describing, or exploring otherwise, an act of sex – topically. In literature, to simply describe an act of sex is more or less pornographic. But, articulating why that act of sex is wondrous and why one should be reverent about that act – that is erotica.
Illuminating the anticipation and build-up to a sexual encounter is erotica. A sloppy, unthoughtful image of a cock in a vagina is not.
A good analogy is the difference between burlesque dancing and our contemporary form of the strip tease. Burlesque is about the slow reveal. About seduction. About ultimate seduction and poking and prodding and smiling and being reverent about the human form. Strip tease and strippers on poles is more pornographic. Gratuitous. Unnecessary. While it aims at ultimate titillation – it misses its mark.
Here, erotica is like burlesque.
For me, eroticism is about anticipation. It’s about what comes before an obvious sexual encounter. It’s complicated. It’s about how a girl moves across the floor. It’s about clothing and words and hand gestures. It’s about wanting to devour somebody with such intent as to now even know exactly why. It’s a sophisticated approach to everything primal.
In its approach, erotica is artful. It’s thoughtful in its dance to and from exploring everything sexual, sensual and heartfelt. In its fundamental aim, erotica is the perfect amalgamation of love and lust.
Now, after writing and publishing for the last fifteen years, it has been a small miracle that I stumbled upon this genre of erotica. Writing in the vein of philosophical fiction and sociological criticism for over a decade – erotica has served as that kind of yoke with enough power in its adhesion to bond my daily life with my writing life.
Erotica is a genre that makes sense for me because of how I live my life. I’m interested in everything filled with ardor and passion and my daily life is consumed with fiery love, lust, ardor and explicit growth. So, it makes sense that I should be writing this material. Sexually, intellectually, emotionally and physically – I put myself out there. Sometimes, I’m left hanging by myself – over a cliff. However, nothing great was ever achieved in comfort. For that reason and more, I like things that are dangerous.
My primary premise is: Writing that is not dangerous is not interesting.
In this, my erotica writing has remained about process. What I have to learn. What I have to gain. What I have to lose.
In this, erotica is ultimately human. And I, towing forever along behind it.