That got your attention didn’t it? What I mean of course, is it necessary to be female in order to write a lesbian sex story? I have written some lesbian sex stories that have been well received, but invariably I am taken to task by someone who resents my being male and writing them. How could I possibly know how a woman feels, much less about another woman? I have also been chided for having my female characters ‘act like men’ in love and action scenes. Exactly what does that mean?
Discounting the overtones of sexisim in the above statements, I find that, in the main, Lesbian sex stories are equally erotic whether written by a man or a woman. Conversely, some of the worst I have read were authored by both men and women so it balances out. I have been told men ‘lack the sensitivity’ to write about female lovers or women in general for that matter. Again, I dismiss that allegation out of hand.
Emotions are equally shared by men and women, women simply feel more comfortable in expressing them. There are no such restrictions in writing and men can ‘get in touch with their feminine side’ and tell an excellent story. An amusing result of a story that clicks with the readers are the flirting comments (and propositions) that follow from both men and women once the story is posted.
Also, I have not heard similar allegations levied against women who write gay male stories. Is there a double standard at work here? I don’t think predjudices on both sides foster understanding either of alternative lifestyles or gender equality. I carefully consider all criticisims of my work worth noting where writing is concerned. But I take exception to being told I’m writing out of my gender.
What do you think?
A topic close to my… heart.
Gay male love and sex inevitably insinuate themselves into most everything I write, and you’re right–no one’s taken me to task for writing outside my gender (though I have been ribbed a bit for making my gay guys “too complex”).
At the risk of making my hypocrisy public, I’ll venture to say that I do resent a certain brand of male-authored lesbian erotica, inevitably featuring what I like to call “cheerleader lesbians”–those gay gals who are the extreme of the alleged male fantasy, petite and big-titted, with long flowing hair, hard-pressed to come up with three lines of meaningful dialog but utterly bursting with air-headed giggles and hell-bent on licking strawberry jam off each other’s navels and nipples.
Of course, that kind of vapid tongue-fencing and genital-grinding isn’t my cup of tea, whether the frolickers are two girls, two guys, or a pair attempting to merge their melange of XY and XX chromosomes.
So, if your characters have depth and your story has substance, bring it on, I say.