Following in the footstep of icons

Just the other day I read the months-old news that my favorite erotica writer icon closed the shutters on her erotic prose to shine her candle of spiritual writing. It’s an amazing move for her career and I totally support her for going into this new direction. It’s really a great thing. If anything, I should rejoice in knowing that erotica writers such as ourselves can and will be able to enjoy the kingdom of God and write about it without any repercussions.

Yet, I don’t feel blessed with this new knowledge. I’m burdened. It’s taxing to know that there are options that are not your path yet. Even though it’s been a little over a year since I’ve published works in erotic magazines, it’s still a big part of my writing repertoire. Even though I don’t set out to write anything particularly racy, a phrase or two will magically appear into place.

The literary genre and the manifestation of this eroticism through certain parts of my life are still a part of me that have yet to be washed away with regular attendance to church. And if I can be bold to add, that sometimes certain aspects of the Bible fuel this other side of me more than it should.

But because I’m susceptible to the impossible. I wish I could douse the flame of my erotica and open the blinds to the night sky of spiritual writing. I want to the follow in the footsteps of my icon. Even if my walking on that path felt totally empty and dull, I’d feel like I could finally be socially acceptable at the dinner table. That I wouldn’t have to hide all my achievements from certain friends. That in an impossible world they’d remain my friends.

That’s just not who I am so maybe I should stop making friends with people who I need to hide myself from. Or not, I should just hide parts of myself and be everyone’s friend. Either way, my writing is my own and not going to be the main course at every dinner table across America.


  1. Sopphey, I enjoy your introspective and simply stated posts. You know what I think? Be you. Write what you write. Authenticity is so lacking in our society, isn't it now? Honest and brazen writing, be it erotica, non-fiction memoirs or essays or blogs about the shit-storm of life and how we rise above--these are gems in a slush pile of writing meant to please everyone but ourselves. I have always written for myself first. Those who invite me to dinner are my treasured friends. Those who don't, well, they are missing out, aren't they?

    1. "Those who don't, well, they are missing out" you're so right. I'll keep this in mind.

  2. Sex and enjoying it are a vital part of the human existence.


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