The cowboy rides up on his black stallion, says some cowboy stuff and saves the dim-witted cowgirl in distress. Meanwhile: on another coast, a fireman ascends a ladder, says some fireman stuff, and saves a dim-witted fire victim in distress. Many double entendres ensue, and there is so much engorgement of the male region that it only seems prudent that the guy sees a specialist. STAT!
I’ve never made it through a “sexy” novel, and that includes 50 Shades Of Grey. No matter how much throbbing or thrusting is going on, I just can’t make it past the awful and painfully silly writing.
That being said: I am not opposed to writing smut under a pen name, and making millions of dollars from it. Maybe the bankroll from the crap-tastic novel will enable me to publish my own thoughtful novel. Maybe? Probably not. By then, I’d be too money hungry and collagen injected to notice the slippery slope I was sliding down.
I was reading the
NY Times People the other day,when I came across a book review.
Dear readers: I wish I was making this title up.
Mai Tai’d Up by Alice Clayton (Get it? It’s both a nod to a beverage that no one has ordered since the 70’s,and… bondage,sexual bondage).
Review notes: On her wedding day, beauty queen Chloe Patterson dumps her fiance and moves to Monterey to start a pit bull sanctuary. The last thing she’s looking for is love, but she can’t resist the charms of Lucas Campbell, a local vet who’s got a painful romantic history of his own. Clayton’s a master of balancing heart, humor and plenty of action between the sheets.
This type of writing makes me sad. This person and people like her, are published daily.
While we’re busy typing away with stories and anecdotes that we hope are inspiring; Helen the Homemaker, shudders as she feels willy’s willy throb with delight.
I was more than half-joking when I said I’d write a fluff book under a pen name.
What would you do?