My most recent novel debuted today. I self-published, and after this, honestly empowering experience, I’m never ever going to query anybody again. I’m positively convinced the industry is cooked, and I’m happy doing my own thing, even if it doesn’t amount to much.
Thanks for this. I'd also love your take on what the reading experience of smut disguised as sex positivity does to the reader. I literally feel violated when I read graphic scenes- I cannot get why writers are producing stuff that nobody in their heart of hearts actually wants.
The mandatory sex positivity of even non-consensual sex is particularly striking when at the same time we face an army of sensitivity readers for whom nearly anything else seems to be "triggering"...
This sex-positivity-by-default position of mainstream publishing is something that troubles me, too. In my manuscript, my two main characters are Christians of variable adherence both raised in the Christian sexual ethic, which protects sex within marriage. Their Christianity is nowhere near the main point of the plot, but it’s an aspect of both characters I’m worried a literary agent or publisher will want to erase or change to be more “sex positive.” I believe that complicated feelings about sex due to a faith tradition are deeply common to the human experience, and should be dealt with the complexity and dignity they deserve.
You've identified such an important problem: Sex is not always good! Even when, as you say, it's fully consensual.
And no one seems to want to say this. Sex can provide some of our best experiences. It's also true, though, that many (most?) of the worst things human beings can do to each other are sexual.
When you don't need to care about your sexual partner--when you don't even have to know each other--you're giving that depravity free room to run.
Great thoughts! You contrasted restraint with empowerment, but I'd go so far as to argue that restraint and self discipline are ultimately sexually "empowering." Not being a slave to your impulses allows you to give yourself fully and freely to your spouse. This narrative is clearly the minority (and often mocked) in modern discussions on the topic.
regarding the shared exchange with your agent: I found myself agreeing with both you and him 50%. I see no need for characters to grow or learn anything, as long as the story is interesting and the writing is good. the presence of a moral message itself has no bearing, for me, on the impact of a novel. I must confess to not having read your book, but if Adam and Cassie go down to the 50Shades room and nothing happens, it may even be more seductive and intriguing than if you had elaborated a debaucherous encounter, provided how it is written is interesting. it sounds like your agent is more of a plot focussed chap.
This made me think. I’m very much in the sex-positive camp, but I also believe literature loses something when any human experience gets flattened into a single moral message. Intimacy in fiction should be able to be liberating, destructive, confusing, sacred, restrained, or even refused. Sometimes the most powerful moment in a story is not the act itself, but the choice not to cross a line.
Imagine not publishing or understanding A Farewell to Arms by Ernest Hemingway because the fully consensual sex in the novel serves to underscore the characters' trauma and desperation.
My latest romance novels address this, though that's not what I set out to do. I set out to write a romance about twenty-somethings in the nineties, when sex positivity was in it's earlier stages, but dating still happened. I wanted to honor the nineties, Gen X, and life in the early stages of the hook up culture. Yes, they have consensual sex, and yes it is sexy, but...there are consequences. Broken hearts. Unwanted pregnancy. Discovering the value of chastity by confronting the very notion of sexual empowerment. The second book is about the couple in the now, with young adult children navigating the same issues. Honest talk about sex. Honest talk about chastity. Honest talk about love. Not a Hallmark romance, and not a queer/sex positive book. A normal romance with all the longing, mistakes, and redemption one finds in real life. They were a joy to write, and yes, I have to self-publish because even my publisher, who loved my cougar romance book, is looking for more queer stuff right now. Besides, it takes two years for them to publish a book once they accept it, and methinks we need to move faster than that now.
Liza, first of all, thank you for the blog. Wall of text incoming.
I abhor the discourse that labels itself "sex-positive" and more than that, I abhor the term "sex work". I consider myself sex-positive in the sense of having a positive view of sex and sexuality. I view it, in fact, as nothing short of sacred, which is why I believe homophobic restrictions on human lust are more suppressive and dehumanizing than, say, smoking crack. It's why I think rape is generally considered worse than punching someone, all other things being equal. And of course it's why I think "sex work" is a farcical term. If you fuck a sex worker and don't pay, is this rape or something more akin to shoplifting? What differentiates a pimp from an artist's manager? I have many more such questions.
On the surface, the misery-porn fest A Little Life reads like a refutation of your argument. Alas, I fear that it proves many of your points, and the fact that it's considered a literary achievement speaks volumes (I can't imagine how embarrassed I'll be if it turns out you're a fan, but I'll proceed). The main character Jude is a victim of extreme abuse, sexual and otherwise, and as the "plot" progresses towards his self-annihilation, the extent of his abuse is revealed. I won't say that the abuse endured is not realistic, because I know too much about the world. I will say that Jude growing up to be even as functional as he is - is unrealistic, and it's not me and my anecdotal experience as a survivor of much milder abuse saying it, but an acquaintance of mine, a therapist who specializes in treating cases more like Jude's, who shares my view of this book completely. The unrealistic portrayal would have been forgivable if Jude's story did not eventually end in suicide, but in deeper healing. In fact it might have been more realistic that way, too - people like Viktor Frenkel or what have you do exist. No, it's the pretense to present a realistic portrayal of victims and abusers while doing *that*, that makes the whole thing fall flat on its face. Every character is a vicious, vile abuser - or a saint with unlimited patience for Jude's antics. Very little in between. The whole thing reads a lot like torture/rape smut fanfiction mixed with lifestyle porn, somehow dressed up as actual literature.
None of the sex Jude has is *good*. Even the consensual sex with the love of his life is mechanical and eventually he stops putting himself through it, which good for him, to be honest. And yet!!!! This is supposed to be the great gay love story - by a presumably straight woman. Now, me, I humbly believe anyone can write anything if they actually bother to study the territory. Even if they don't - realism and meticulous research aren't the only source of literary merit.
How is this "sex positive" in the damning sense, then? I, personally, got a very strong sense that the effect is pornographic more than anything else. That we're reading about an abused child, waiting for even more abuses to be revealed, and then about an abused adult who re-victimizes himself, and no, no no no, of course nobody is supposed to *wank* to it. But we are supposed to feel overcome with horror and disgust that, instead of making us look away, makes us breathlessly turn the pages. We're supposed to cry and mourn, but not in a way that expands our capacity for empathy and compassion for people who endure things we don't understand - because, well... everybody already fucking hates pedophiles!!!! (Well, kind of. Mostly. Unless they're really famous and write cool songs or something, and not the evil caricatures portrayed in the books). Everybody already cares about victims of abuse (well, kind of. Mostly. Unless it actually asks us to confront something closer to home than Jude's history).
In short, this book challenges nothing, deepens nothing, but lets the reader wallow in a very specific, remote, exaggerated and yet sanitized version of a very very very common trauma that we habitually ignore and suppress. So, "sex positive" how? Because this is porn, and it's treated as literature. Because this removes people from any real knowledge of the issue, but it masquerades as a serious study of it. Because it exempts us from taking the log from our own eyes, and exploits a very real and very common source of pain to do that. And this is where I have to say that this book isn't just bad, but reflects something morally very wrong with the establishment.
Maybe my whole take is full of shit, I don't know. But I know two things: None of the violent disturbing smut I read healed me in any way. I reserve the right to read it, because I reserve the right to get off in the privacy of my head. Often, I won't get nearly off, but merely distress myself, but that's my cross to bear. Second, once all consensual sex is good and empowering, the logical conclusion is that sex that wasn't good or empowering was not consensual. And the last demographic who needs this development is rape victims.
Sex is sacred, and it's also part of life, and it should be taken very seriously, with the knowledge that mistakes will be made. Mistakes, as in bad choices. As in, choices. That are bad. And literature could help us by reflecting that very important facet of our lives. But lol no.
If anyone is interested, Lily Meyer at the Atlantic reported on the opposite problem: the overwhelming chastity of literary fiction in 2026.
Same-sex romance is prolific, but Meyer writes about the ironic detachment with which authors approach heterosexuality. It makes sense in view of historically high animosity across gender lines. Could times like this ever be a high water point for engaging with sex with any type of sincerity? It’s hard to see how they ever could be.
The article by Lily Meyer, if anyone was interested:
How do you consider then that probably the single largest book (trilogy) sold in recent memory was about BDSM female sexual subordination, and it did not start through agents but was self-published then on-demand then bought? I’m speaking of course 50 Shades of Grey, and subsequent.
This is, by far, the best line. “Today, in an industry that has mistaken simplicity for sophistication and ideology for art, we need not only a callback to morality but to literary depth. Because only literature that approaches all facets of the human experience from a nuanced perspective will ever be able to tell the truth about what it means to be human.” I couldn’t agree more. Thanks for your thoughts!
My most recent novel debuted today. I self-published, and after this, honestly empowering experience, I’m never ever going to query anybody again. I’m positively convinced the industry is cooked, and I’m happy doing my own thing, even if it doesn’t amount to much.
Thanks for this. I'd also love your take on what the reading experience of smut disguised as sex positivity does to the reader. I literally feel violated when I read graphic scenes- I cannot get why writers are producing stuff that nobody in their heart of hearts actually wants.
Keep going! Rooting for you :)
That means a lot! Thank you
“but boy, do I have some theories.”
I so enjoy seeing sentences like this when you’re diagnosing. I know a +10 evisceration is just moments away.
The mandatory sex positivity of even non-consensual sex is particularly striking when at the same time we face an army of sensitivity readers for whom nearly anything else seems to be "triggering"...
This sex-positivity-by-default position of mainstream publishing is something that troubles me, too. In my manuscript, my two main characters are Christians of variable adherence both raised in the Christian sexual ethic, which protects sex within marriage. Their Christianity is nowhere near the main point of the plot, but it’s an aspect of both characters I’m worried a literary agent or publisher will want to erase or change to be more “sex positive.” I believe that complicated feelings about sex due to a faith tradition are deeply common to the human experience, and should be dealt with the complexity and dignity they deserve.
You've identified such an important problem: Sex is not always good! Even when, as you say, it's fully consensual.
And no one seems to want to say this. Sex can provide some of our best experiences. It's also true, though, that many (most?) of the worst things human beings can do to each other are sexual.
When you don't need to care about your sexual partner--when you don't even have to know each other--you're giving that depravity free room to run.
Keep fighting the good fight, Liza.
Great thoughts! You contrasted restraint with empowerment, but I'd go so far as to argue that restraint and self discipline are ultimately sexually "empowering." Not being a slave to your impulses allows you to give yourself fully and freely to your spouse. This narrative is clearly the minority (and often mocked) in modern discussions on the topic.
regarding the shared exchange with your agent: I found myself agreeing with both you and him 50%. I see no need for characters to grow or learn anything, as long as the story is interesting and the writing is good. the presence of a moral message itself has no bearing, for me, on the impact of a novel. I must confess to not having read your book, but if Adam and Cassie go down to the 50Shades room and nothing happens, it may even be more seductive and intriguing than if you had elaborated a debaucherous encounter, provided how it is written is interesting. it sounds like your agent is more of a plot focussed chap.
In a good novel the characters will learn and change. Otherwise what are you writing about?
A good novel reflects real life. Oftentimes in real life, growth and self realization do not occur
This made me think. I’m very much in the sex-positive camp, but I also believe literature loses something when any human experience gets flattened into a single moral message. Intimacy in fiction should be able to be liberating, destructive, confusing, sacred, restrained, or even refused. Sometimes the most powerful moment in a story is not the act itself, but the choice not to cross a line.
Do you have lived experience in sex work?
Imagine not publishing or understanding A Farewell to Arms by Ernest Hemingway because the fully consensual sex in the novel serves to underscore the characters' trauma and desperation.
My latest romance novels address this, though that's not what I set out to do. I set out to write a romance about twenty-somethings in the nineties, when sex positivity was in it's earlier stages, but dating still happened. I wanted to honor the nineties, Gen X, and life in the early stages of the hook up culture. Yes, they have consensual sex, and yes it is sexy, but...there are consequences. Broken hearts. Unwanted pregnancy. Discovering the value of chastity by confronting the very notion of sexual empowerment. The second book is about the couple in the now, with young adult children navigating the same issues. Honest talk about sex. Honest talk about chastity. Honest talk about love. Not a Hallmark romance, and not a queer/sex positive book. A normal romance with all the longing, mistakes, and redemption one finds in real life. They were a joy to write, and yes, I have to self-publish because even my publisher, who loved my cougar romance book, is looking for more queer stuff right now. Besides, it takes two years for them to publish a book once they accept it, and methinks we need to move faster than that now.
What on earth would your agent make if the film Brief Encounter - when the point of the film is passion that is restrained?
Does he not realise that he has turned everyone into performing seals?
Liza, first of all, thank you for the blog. Wall of text incoming.
I abhor the discourse that labels itself "sex-positive" and more than that, I abhor the term "sex work". I consider myself sex-positive in the sense of having a positive view of sex and sexuality. I view it, in fact, as nothing short of sacred, which is why I believe homophobic restrictions on human lust are more suppressive and dehumanizing than, say, smoking crack. It's why I think rape is generally considered worse than punching someone, all other things being equal. And of course it's why I think "sex work" is a farcical term. If you fuck a sex worker and don't pay, is this rape or something more akin to shoplifting? What differentiates a pimp from an artist's manager? I have many more such questions.
On the surface, the misery-porn fest A Little Life reads like a refutation of your argument. Alas, I fear that it proves many of your points, and the fact that it's considered a literary achievement speaks volumes (I can't imagine how embarrassed I'll be if it turns out you're a fan, but I'll proceed). The main character Jude is a victim of extreme abuse, sexual and otherwise, and as the "plot" progresses towards his self-annihilation, the extent of his abuse is revealed. I won't say that the abuse endured is not realistic, because I know too much about the world. I will say that Jude growing up to be even as functional as he is - is unrealistic, and it's not me and my anecdotal experience as a survivor of much milder abuse saying it, but an acquaintance of mine, a therapist who specializes in treating cases more like Jude's, who shares my view of this book completely. The unrealistic portrayal would have been forgivable if Jude's story did not eventually end in suicide, but in deeper healing. In fact it might have been more realistic that way, too - people like Viktor Frenkel or what have you do exist. No, it's the pretense to present a realistic portrayal of victims and abusers while doing *that*, that makes the whole thing fall flat on its face. Every character is a vicious, vile abuser - or a saint with unlimited patience for Jude's antics. Very little in between. The whole thing reads a lot like torture/rape smut fanfiction mixed with lifestyle porn, somehow dressed up as actual literature.
None of the sex Jude has is *good*. Even the consensual sex with the love of his life is mechanical and eventually he stops putting himself through it, which good for him, to be honest. And yet!!!! This is supposed to be the great gay love story - by a presumably straight woman. Now, me, I humbly believe anyone can write anything if they actually bother to study the territory. Even if they don't - realism and meticulous research aren't the only source of literary merit.
How is this "sex positive" in the damning sense, then? I, personally, got a very strong sense that the effect is pornographic more than anything else. That we're reading about an abused child, waiting for even more abuses to be revealed, and then about an abused adult who re-victimizes himself, and no, no no no, of course nobody is supposed to *wank* to it. But we are supposed to feel overcome with horror and disgust that, instead of making us look away, makes us breathlessly turn the pages. We're supposed to cry and mourn, but not in a way that expands our capacity for empathy and compassion for people who endure things we don't understand - because, well... everybody already fucking hates pedophiles!!!! (Well, kind of. Mostly. Unless they're really famous and write cool songs or something, and not the evil caricatures portrayed in the books). Everybody already cares about victims of abuse (well, kind of. Mostly. Unless it actually asks us to confront something closer to home than Jude's history).
In short, this book challenges nothing, deepens nothing, but lets the reader wallow in a very specific, remote, exaggerated and yet sanitized version of a very very very common trauma that we habitually ignore and suppress. So, "sex positive" how? Because this is porn, and it's treated as literature. Because this removes people from any real knowledge of the issue, but it masquerades as a serious study of it. Because it exempts us from taking the log from our own eyes, and exploits a very real and very common source of pain to do that. And this is where I have to say that this book isn't just bad, but reflects something morally very wrong with the establishment.
Maybe my whole take is full of shit, I don't know. But I know two things: None of the violent disturbing smut I read healed me in any way. I reserve the right to read it, because I reserve the right to get off in the privacy of my head. Often, I won't get nearly off, but merely distress myself, but that's my cross to bear. Second, once all consensual sex is good and empowering, the logical conclusion is that sex that wasn't good or empowering was not consensual. And the last demographic who needs this development is rape victims.
Sex is sacred, and it's also part of life, and it should be taken very seriously, with the knowledge that mistakes will be made. Mistakes, as in bad choices. As in, choices. That are bad. And literature could help us by reflecting that very important facet of our lives. But lol no.
If anyone is interested, Lily Meyer at the Atlantic reported on the opposite problem: the overwhelming chastity of literary fiction in 2026.
Same-sex romance is prolific, but Meyer writes about the ironic detachment with which authors approach heterosexuality. It makes sense in view of historically high animosity across gender lines. Could times like this ever be a high water point for engaging with sex with any type of sincerity? It’s hard to see how they ever could be.
The article by Lily Meyer, if anyone was interested:
https://www.theatlantic.com/books/2026/02/sex-scenes-literature-heterosexual-romance/686148/?gift=ibZYzWJROiMyL1kRt5fr0lsf3Hiilv8uHQdukiR61NE
How do you consider then that probably the single largest book (trilogy) sold in recent memory was about BDSM female sexual subordination, and it did not start through agents but was self-published then on-demand then bought? I’m speaking of course 50 Shades of Grey, and subsequent.
Fanfiction.net
The Writer’s Coffee Shop
Random House
I could hypothesize that the literary agents are looking for the next 50, not sex in particular.
It reminds me a lot of a book by Anne Cécile Desclos (aka Dominique Aury) under the pen name of Pauline Réage - “The Story of O”.
Likewise, I used to read a lot of Alberto Moravia, and his short story
“La donna che voleva essere comprata” (The Woman Who Wanted to Be Bought”) which is not quite what it sounds.
All these stories have in common the idea of a woman becoming alienated from herself and her body, to a degree.
“What happens when desire manifests as ownership”.
It’s a legitimate domain of writing, erotic writing lends itself to that.
It’s not for me. Desire manifests itself as partnership. But I understand how that works in other domains.
I have always considered 'The Story of O' a pretty pedestrian male fantasy.
This is, by far, the best line. “Today, in an industry that has mistaken simplicity for sophistication and ideology for art, we need not only a callback to morality but to literary depth. Because only literature that approaches all facets of the human experience from a nuanced perspective will ever be able to tell the truth about what it means to be human.” I couldn’t agree more. Thanks for your thoughts!