Rebecca Lyndon is a special friend to the PensFatales. She wrote an amazing piece on this interesting week in publishing, and I begged her to let me post it here. (On a personal note, I love her work, and I think it's seriously awesomely hot.) Please welcome her. - Rachael
It’s been an interesting week. Last Saturday, an email from
Amazon popped up in my inbox, telling me that they were taking down one of my
books for violating their content guidelines.
This book, a collection of erotic stories told from the
point of view of a young woman who has decided to break away from her family’s
history rushing into bad relationships by exploring her sexual fantasies before
she settles down, is probably the most vanilla of my books. That’s not to say
it isn’t hot. It is. At least, I like to think it is, but the floggers and the
whips are kept to a minimum.
At first, I laughed at the takedown notice. Humor is my
primary defense. I wrote some emails to a few close friends and joked about how
I was able to violate content guidelines that were ridiculously vague.
“What we deem offensive is probably about what you would
expect.”
Well, no. I guess it’s not what I would expect.
But after a little while, my humor began to fade, and
something else took its place. It started out as a vague dissatisfaction that
took root in my belly and slowly grew outward. After a few days, I realized
that I was well and truly pissed, and that I had every right to be.
This book was special to me. It was a departure from my
usual stuff. I’m an erotic romance writer, you see. Kinky stuff. People
discovering their love of BDSM as they fall in love with each other. The book
that Amazon took down was my first foray into pure erotica. Sex for the pure
joy of it without the promise of a happily ever after.
Writing it was liberating. For just a little while, to break
from the conventions of my chosen genre, to not have to worry about deep
internal conflicts, or who was saving who, to focus on the needs, desires and
sensations of one character--it was fun. Really fun.
Writing from Amber’s point of view taught me important
lessons about writing all characters. When you write romance it’s easy to think
of your heroine and hero as one unit, always moving together throughout the
story, and not as complex separate beings who have no idea that their happily
ever after endings are assured. Desires, not just sexual ones,--though I think
those pack an emotional punch that is both powerful and universally
relatable--and how we act on them are the ultimate show of character.
But it’s what I learned after Amazon took the story down
that has left the most lasting impact.
I never received, nor have I seen any statement from Amazon
that explains why they went on a banning spree, but it isn’t hard to come up
with a solid guess. With the shocking news breaking last week that
erotica exists and that
different people have different kinks,
the actual disturbing fact surfaced that erotica was coming up in searches for
children’s books.
Let me be clear that I don’t think this is acceptable. Not
even a little bit. But let me be equally clear that I believe to my core that
the onus is on retailers to restrict access to adult material and not on the artist to restrict content.
So why don’t booksellers just refuse to sell all erotica,
and skip the controversy altogether? They can. It’s their right. Just like it’s
mine to write whatever I like, at least here in America. Check your local
listings in other countries.
But here’s the thing. If that’s your gut reaction, and you’re
in the business of selling books, then allow me to humbly suggest that you look
into another profession. Because historically, being in the book business is subversive
as shit. It’s for the tough and courageous. Those willing to stand up to the
book burners, not jump on their bandwagon first chance they get. Those who
refuse to be shamed into submission.
Which is another important thing I learned this week. I am
not ashamed to say that I am a fan of erotica, no matter how many times I read
that I should be. I am not ashamed that I read it, and I’m sure as hell not
ashamed that I write it.
Why? Because, deep down, I believe that erotica is the liberation
from shame. It’s pointing a spot light straight on those dark desires that the
rest of the world says you must keep hidden. It allows you to realize that
those terrible fancies that occasionally play at the back of your mind don’t
make you a monster. Other people have them too. Regular people. People who have
families, and houses and pay their taxes. They’ve all got a kink of their very
own.
And that’s why I think people go after erotica. It’s not
about the sex. It’s a fear of a group of people who reject the notion that
shame, not innate human decency, is the glue that holds society together.
I understand this fear. I believed it for a long time. Maybe
that’s why I have no animosity for those who still do. Fear of your own insides
is a terrible thing.
But I did say that this has been an interesting week, not a
bad one. In the end, cooler heads prevailed. A couple of days ago, I received
an email from Amazon saying that upon further review my book did not violate
their content guidelines, and I could republish it.
I can only hope that everyone else who was affected by the
mass takedown received the same email. Because if not, then that would be the
real shame.