On the subject of Ms Jenny Lyn, I have almost too much to say about the topic. I could talk the ears off your head regarding the woman. Our friendship was sparked through Felt Tips, and you can read about our first interactions here. She wrote for Vagina Antics and I wrote for her blog. Our homance, for lack of a better word, blossomed from there. She is one of my virtual friends who feels as real to me as my darling Nikki. Jenny Lyn’s writing gives me goosebumps in all the right places and her kindness and generosity have buoyed my spirits. Her new short story BITE was inspired by a little challenge I threw her way. I’m honored that we’re hosting her once again. xo Heather
You know the naked dream people talk about having when they’re nervous about something? The one where you’re standing in a room full of clothed people and you’re the only one who’s naked? I had it once back when I was a teenager, right before starting junior high. I thought I’d outgrown that kind of exposed feeling, but that’s exactly how I felt the day my boss called me into his office to tell me I’d been outed as a writer of “porn.” His words, not mine.
I don’t know what I expected really since I wasn’t keeping what I was doing on the side a complete secret in my tiny, ultra-conservative local community. It had to get out eventually, right? In hindsight, I should’ve kept my big mouth shut, but when you’re doing something you absolutely love and it’s being met with great results, it’s in our nature to want to share. We’ve been groomed that way from the time we’re children, to expect a reward or a pat on the back when we do something good. I foolishly thought that even the people who might not like the subject matter would still be happy for me, and most were. Things were clicking along smoothly. I think sometimes all it takes is time for people to get over the shock before they eventually move on to acceptance. Or not, but whatever. It’s their choice.
But I never thought in a million years that someone would take it upon themselves to inform my boss. Hearing him say that “they” (the complainer) thought what I wrote was offensive made me want to throw up. My face flushed hot with anger and embarrassment. We erotica writers like to say that we’re not ashamed of what we write, but when you’re standing in front of your boss having to defend your decision to do so, that emotion still manages to find its way in.
Like it or not, there are always going to be people in this world who sit on their high horses and judge others. Like it or not, there are always going to be people who are offended by something. And like it or not, those people are always going to be vocal to the point of obnoxiousness. Free speech works both ways.
At this point I need a job so I listened to what he had to say, offered up that offensiveness was subjective so he’d keep that in mind as well, and left it at that. In his defense, he was fairly tolerant, and I fully understand his position. He said he’d been to my website and didn’t see anything there that he’d consider offensive (obviously he didn’t look very hard), but in his next breath told me to make sure I kept that part of my life separate from my work life. Like I might be watching actual porn on my work computer during lunch. This resulted in a venting blog post wherein I coined the phrase “cavorting genitals.” I still need to think about trademarking that. J
In actuality I don’t think it was someone who was truly offended that complained, I think it was an ex-coworker who was disgruntled over losing her job during cutbacks when I kept mine. It was being done purely out of spite and meanness, not because she was a prude.
But there again, I can’t wrap my mind around why people get so worked up about sex, or nudity, or any of the various forms of both. Unless it’s being shoved in your face against your will, why do you care? No one is forcing you to read what I write or watch Granny Gangbang 4, or even dine at Hooters. It’s not harming anyone, and if it is, well then it’s illegal. That’s when you need to be concerned, and only then.
I just don’t understand why people get so worked up over the subject of sex. I think a lot of it is insecurity in themselves, but we’ll leave the analyzing for another time. I’m no statistician, but I’d hazard a guess that around 95 percent of the world’s population is having sex, or will at some point in their lives, if they’re lucky or they choose to go that wonderful route. So what makes one sex act any worse than another as long as it’s SSC? And even if it’s not necessarily deemed “safe”, it’s still likely an informed choice made by the participants. Sometimes an ill-advised choice and you wind up in the emergency room with objects stuck in mortifying places (hell no, I’m not speaking from experience), but lesson learned and life goes on.
Our bodies are designed for creating life and enjoying sex, otherwise women wouldn’t get wet when aroused, men wouldn’t get hard, and we wouldn’t have orgasms. Sex is one of the cheapest and healthiest fun activities you can partake in. It’s a fundamental part of our nature as human beings and when that’s denied or suppressed, bad things happen.
I guess what I’m saying is, I don’t get the need to differentiate. It’s like using the word “damn” versus “fuck”. In the end they’re both curse words. Or driving five or fifty mph over the posted speed limit. You’re still speeding. Missionary position vaginal or doggie-style anal, lights off or in the middle of a crowded room, IT’S STILL SEX. Follow my twisted logic? There shouldn’t be degrees assigned to things that aren’t illegal. Judging someone for partaking in those things is nothing but hypocritical, period.
Heather asked me if I wouldn’t mind writing about my experience with being outed and how it made me feel. I’ve gotten over the anger and most of the other emotions I went through with the exception of confusion. For some reason I still can’t wrap my mind around the need some people feel to shame others for their choices — reading, writing, or otherwise. The absence of logic astounds and saddens me, which is why finding and being accepted by this community of like-minded writers and individuals has been a godsend. It dilutes the sadness away to nothing.
Jenny Lyn is a writer of naughty stories and a lover of all things southern, including her tiny hometown in north-central Florida. Wedged between the historic Suwannee River and the beautiful Gulf of Mexico, it’s hot, sticky, and full of mosquitoes, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. When she’s not pecking away on her laptop and arguing with the voices in her head, she’s fishing with her husband or taking her teenage son to see one of their favorite rock bands in concert. She has a book out now, Saving Sydney; a short story in the upcoming erotic anthology, Felt Tips; and many more things in the works. She can be found rambling about everything from Elvis to moonshine at her website: http://www.authorjennylyn.com, and often saying inappropriate things on Twitter @Jennylynwrites.