“Forbidden” is just a line drawn on top of me


Forbidden is a word that I’ve been flirting with since I was a kid. There are so many things I’m not supposed to do that I do anyway: I swear a lot, I don’t go to church, I routinely go outside in my pj’s, I painted my office blood red… When I was a child, I’d often do forbidden things: walk in the neighbor’s woods, fake sins for confession, sleep during class. By the time I got to college, I was really good at not giving a fuck. I went places I wasn’t supposed to, dated a guy I shouldn’t have (goodbye high school boyfriend). I even kissed him before the first date. There are so many things a grown-up woman isn’t supposed to do (according to books and articles and just random people) that my gut reaction is to do exactly the opposite. I don’t listen to anyone except myself.

The first novel I wrote had three people falling in love with each other. The men loved each other just as much as they loved the woman in the story. I know this isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but I wanted to stretch my wings (creatively speaking). I wanted to play with the characters. I wanted to keep myself from falling asleep over my computer. (This is not to say I don’t enjoy the traditional MF thing—I do. Of course, I tend to enjoy the edgier kinds of MF: the new book I wrote as Marie E. Blossom has a little bit of knife-play in it.)

Clearly I get bored easily.

Forbidden is just an idea. A word. A line drawn on paper. A line drawn over top of another person, like a cage. Yeah, sure, I don’t think harm to the self or harm to others is a good thing (I am NOT advocating murder, geez), but the other stuff, the social stuff, what is the point of all these rules? Why can’t an intelligent, educated woman write or read erotic romance? Why do teachers get fired if they’re caught writing those kinds of books? My life motto: harm no one. It harms no one to enjoy such things. It’s a BOOK. It opens the mind, but then again, that’s probably exactly what frightens people. Open minds could lead to, well, opinions! Women will be demanding equal pay for the same job or something ridiculous like that! Next thing you know, we’ll be burning our bras (again)!

I guess I’m a feminist, in a weird, totally contradictory sort of way. I write romance novels because they’re fun. They make me happy. I refuse to let anyone tell me that this is not a profession I should have chosen if I wanted to live my life as a decent woman. To that I say: screw you. The point of equality is CHOICE.

I choose this. And that. And a whole bunch of other things. And tomorrow I’ll choose again. Deal with it.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.