Engaging with erotica through an asexual lens
Erotica—media portraying sex or its elements—has two uses. Its surface-level purpose is to sexually arouse the viewer. Its second function is to allow the audience to explore artistry, aesthetics, and psychology through a more nuanced lens than what is otherwise found or permitted in non-suggestive contexts, while being completely removed from corporeal sensation. I argue for the importance of the latter as a demisexual who regularly creates and engages with this kind of writing and visual art. One could think of it as “asexual erotica,” and though it sounds like an oxymoron, an unexpected overlap exists.
When I began taking prose writing seriously and sharing it with others, “smut” was not my target genre. I didn’t see the appeal of sexual attraction towards new romantic partners myself, so I never portrayed it in the lives of my fictional characters. I was more concerned with the unidimensional or misconceived asexual representations. I disliked the tiresome inevitability of heterosexual sex occurring between male and female leads in adult fiction, in spite of a lack of chemistry, plot value, or integrity in writing.
As a writer, I had to come to terms with what agents have deemed a difficult niche to get into: novels focusing on platonic relationships. Once I became more involved in literary discourse online and learned about fandom culture, I came to appreciate the care and craft in the way these indie artists tackled platonic relationships. Sometimes these writers drew from their own experiences of self-growth and acceptance, while other storylines were created from pure imagination.
I stumbled upon accounts with short comics featuring all sorts of perspectives. I analysed their rendering, details, and paneling, studying how it changed depending on the message and atmosphere they were delivering. I knew I wanted to recreate their mastery.
However, as I wasn’t a visual artist myself, I began instead searching for the kinds of books I found intriguing to read and authors who pandered to my tastes. They engaged equally with couples from across the spectrum of sexuality, contextualising them in historical fictions morphed by themes of fantasy. These stories were driven by character dynamics rather than “saving the world.”
I personally believe this is why the sex scenes in these narratives tap into character motivations and vulnerabilities in a much deeper and introspective way. These scenes have the freedom to bend social constructs of sexual orientation, ignore the physical laws of our current reality, and to be as lighthearted or informative as deemed fit for the plotline. Ultimately, they shed light on the essence of intimacy in a unique way.
The more I read, the more I discovered how fanfiction authors spun source material into even more creative and smutty narratives that hardly related to the original inspirations. So, rather than limiting myself to published work that needed approval from agents, editors, and printing houses, I joined the self-publishing community that wrote for essentially nobody but themselves.
My first foray into writing erotica consisted of brief attempts to elaborate scenes of existing relationships from my favourite pieces of fiction. I kept them private, as I knew I was still experimenting with my skills, as well as my familiarity with the verbiage of obscenity. Being unaffected by its main purpose, I felt even more driven by the underlying advantages it lent me. I was able to set the scene more poetically while also maintaining direct dialogue that exposed the characters’ desires for each other while driving the plot forward. I chose not to serve the audience, but rather the integrity of my writing and the story I was creating, even through this lens.
I consider my older works to be highly censored, although they were a voluntary exercise in the art of innuendo. Once I had finished this practice, I decided to work in a more standard style, and took on commissions from both strangers and friends. Although I won’t consider refining this style for commercial purposes, I now know how to tackle this genre in future projects if the need arises.
Engaging with erotica through an asexual lens made me more confident in my identity and my intentions as a writer. My personal experience with this topic is only a glimpse into the variety of interactions this community has to offer and may even touch upon facets of allosexuality. Throughout this process, I discovered the versatility of literature as a whole and the myriad forms sex could take within it.
