7 Truths about Sex Writing

We are people who do people things, just with more opportunities to type the word penis.

When I started out writing, I had big dreams of JK Rowling, Stephen King level fame, fortune, and glory. I was strictly a fiction writer with no notion that I’d ever wander into non-fiction or essays.

Eventually, I did figure out that fairy and vampire stories are pretty unlikely to keep the electrics on. Sure, it happens from time to time, but it’s not something I was willing to hold my breath for. So I started pimping out my mastery of the English language for money. One thing led to another, and I ended up writing about sex. Turns out sex does sell, even in readable formats.

So, as my sex writing list swells, more and more people are reading my stories about sex fails and sex buckets. People have connected with me on social media, and my network continues to engorge. (Yes, I’m going to keep doing that. You’re welcome.) With that comes a lot of people really curious about being a sex writer.

1 We know you masturbate to our work. I know that even my most tame sex-based articles are netting a not-insignificant-number of folks who aren’t just reading for the sake of it. Some of you might even have your drawers or panties around your ankles now.

And that doesn’t bother me a lick. My words were striking enough that you were able to guide yourself to pleasure. That’s probably good. Honestly, it’s kind of a weird “job well done,” pat on the back. Not with that hand, though. Wash that hand before you touch me. Or anything.

But here’s where things get sticky. (Ew.) I know full well some of you masturbate to my words. You don’t need to tell me about it. You don’t need to share your stories, pics, or a single one of the deets with me. Just because I write about sex, don’t assume I want to know about everyone’s sex all of the time.

2 We don’t spend our days naked and near orgasm. Sex writers are people. We do people things. I’m currently clothed in my ugly sweats while my husband plays a video game next to me on the couch. People doing people things.

Ultimately, our work is still work. I’ll admit, I might spend more time thinking about sexy topics, toys, or synonyms for male junk than your average non-sex writer, but that’s not the same as thinking about sex. (Twig & berries, log & boulders, dangly bits, snake & stones, again, you’re welcome) I know this is true for a few of my counterparts as well. Some of us test and review toys for our writing, so we might have orgasms while we work, but that’s a whole different ballpark.

We are people with jobs. Sexy AF jobs, but jobs nonetheless. After the initial thoughts are to the page, we still have to edit, distribute, and market like any other writer or creator. We still have boring trips to the post office, and finicky Google Adwords reports to decipher.

3 We weren’t all sex workers or exotic dancers. A few wandered in from professional sex work or adult entertainment. Some came from writing erotica or enjoying writings about sex as a reader/consumer. I don’t know a whole lot of sex writers that set out to become sex writers. Most, like me, figured out that our lack of filter, way with words, passion for sexuality, and distinctly-absent sense of modesty paved the way for writing about sexy stuff.

I have no discernable grace in any state of dress, and I lack the witchcraft required for pole dancing. (You can look at me like that if it helps, but you can’t tell me ordinary people can just do that shit. Nope. It’s magic.) The closest I’ve come to professional sex work is selling sex toys to rooms full of sorority girls and middle-aged Southern Baptist ladies.

And yet, here I am. A slew of sex-focused articles in my wake, and a driving desire to lift taboos surrounding sex.

4 We aren’t all wild, sex-crazed fiends. Sex writers, on the whole, are not nymphomaniacs. Many of us have no more sex than our readers. We might get wildly experimental from time to time for the sake of our sex-writing work. But we might enjoy boring, not-porn-worthy sex more regularly than anything else. We don’t have to share your kinks or fetishes to encourage you to safely and responsibly explore them.

I’ll be fair and say, some of my fellow sex writers are self-proclaimed animals in bed and into some weird shit. And that’s brilliant. Others of us are not those things. This is also brilliant. I’m not kinky in my real-life sex preferences. If there is a more vanilla word than vanilla, that’s me. I’ll try just about anything once, but my core preferences are pretty down to earth and simple. I still want you to experience the fullness of your sexuality, however that presents.

5 Many of us are skilled, prolific writers and creators in other genres. I write with some wonderfully talented humans who are poets, artists, podcasters, and writers of different genres and topics.

Some of us have found this sex niche and invest fully, but others of us branch out. I do pointillism as a hobby and keep threatening to put that ish on Etsy. Others have written not-smutty-at-all novels and fiction works, deeply personal essays, beautiful poetry. We’re funny, engaging, and normal, and we’d love for you to love our other stuff as much as you like our dick and pussy-flavored work.

Most of us are particularly passionate people. That’s part of what makes us good at writing about sex. But that passion also bleeds out in other forms. If you love a particular sex writer, explore their other stuff. Support them across platforms and topics. Doing so can ensure they’ll be able to continue writing the content you’ve come to love.

6 There’s more than one reason to write about sex. As with any genre, we go at it from different angles. I write to beat back stigma and taboo around sex. I grew up lacking access to anything about what’s natural, normal, expected, and okay as far as sexual health, development, or desire. It was frightening and confusing. I want to spare others that experience. Mostly, I’m combatting a lack of sexual education in my own way.

Others write to empower humans, to foster body positivity, to help with trauma recovery, to dispel dangerous myths, to make sense of their desires. Some of us write graphically, some of us keep it PG-13. The hows, the whys, the wheres, the whats — it’s all excellent content with a valid point of view. All of it.

Whatever fuels our sex writing, we do agree on this: We have to talk about sex. We have to be okay with talking about sex. We need to encourage people to talk about sex.

7 We do choose our words carefully. Writing about sex in today’s cultural and political climate comes with particular challenges and risks. Many of us have been in and out of social media jail because of our work regarding sex. Remember that ‘lift the taboo’ thing that motivates my sex writing? That’s the same taboo that has gotten me shadowbanned from almost every social media platform I work with at least once.

We get called all sorts of slut-shaming names. We’re told we’re dirty and a bad influence. Even the Ph.D.-holding doctors who write about sexual health are told they are hurting today’s youth: damn educational tools and their authors.

Even the words sex writers consciously choose to use are often called into question. I opt to use trans-inclusive language in my articles. I get hate for that. Other writers are liberal with the pronoun switching, alternating between he, she, and they to cover all the bases. They get hate for that. Some gave up and write to a focused audience, using the pronouns appropriate for their assumed readers. Hey! Guess what they get? There’s no way to actually win, but our goals and motivations for writing about sex openly and often don’t change with the hate.

And so, we push on. We serve our Facebook jail time and then keep posting stories about putting things in vaginas and fun things to do with dicks. Because it’s important work. Sexy AF work, but important nonetheless.

I usually post my own articles down here, hoping you’ll click through some more of my very excellent sex content. This time I’m supporting my fellow sex writers by linking some of my favorite material of theirs. It takes a village to lift taboo.

Stay in touch! Click here to subscribe to my email newsletter!

Gwenna Laithland is a writer, humorist, and communications specialist. She is a work-at-home mom of 3 living in Oklahoma, working on a short story collection and novel.

Follow Sexography on Facebook and Twitter to stay up to date on upcoming news and featured stories.