Big Ed's Place

Recently, erotica author Mike Kimera hung up his pen. More precisely, he hung up his erotica pen, as he plans to fiction in other genres under another name.

Now Mike’s been around and is pretty popular at the Erotica Readers and Writers Association (ERWA). I happen to consider his story, The Last Taboo, to be a masterpiece. He’s written many others–some very dark, some completely ridiculous (The King’s Cocksucker is ridiculously silly). As a rule, they’re very good. And I add that qualifier “as a rule” simply because I haven’t read them all.

Now Mike’s stated reason (and I’m paraphrasing here) for retiring his erotica persona is that he awoke to how much separation it was creating between him and his wife. She wasn’t comfortable with the fact that he wrote erotica and he “came to realise that the more time I spend being Mike Kimera, the less time I spend being someone that she feels close to.”

Sadly, I understand. “Mike Kimera” was just as real a “self” for him as his given name. For me, “Big Ed” is just as real as the name on my driver’s license (the DMV won’t put “Big” on it for some reason). It’s hard to say it’s a persona when it’s really just another facet of myself. Not separate per se, but not the sides that shine in polite company.

Which is where the challenge of being an erotica author comes in. I get the separation. Not because of any separation with my wife (she reads most of my stories anyway) but because of the societal one. I can’t tell my Born Again boss why I’m taking longer lunch hours these days. I can’t share my triumphs with some of my friends. And I certainly can’t whip out the laptop and write when we’re visiting my in-laws. The fact that I write about sex forces a separation between the self they see and the one y’all here do.

Now I know there are some who believe the maxim of being true to yourself and being “out” no matter what. I can appreciate the philosophy, but like most pure points of view, practicalities too often interfere. I mean, it’s easy to be “out” when your livelihood and peace in your family relations doesn’t depend on it. It’s even easy to say that being out helps to educate, which is clearly the case with homosexuality. The prejudices started to lift over the past two decades in part because so many people realized that they knew gays and that the people they knew were normal and wonderful people.

But, honestly, do I want my son to endure a frosty atmosphere when we visit my in-laws? Because even if they could accept my writing in toto, there would be no way to avoid an adaptation period where they assimilated the new facets with what they’ve already seen. Similarly, do I really want to trust that the guy who determines whether I get laid off or not won’t take into consideration that my, ahem, personal values are rather different than his?

The separation exists because the alternative is worse.

Obviously, one could argue that in a marriage, it’s different. I don’t know Mike nor his wife and I don’t know if there was any attempt to bridge the gap. I do know that giving up parts of ourselves is the process of being in love. We say, “this person is more important than this aspect of myself, and so I will change.” If we don’t, we’re not building a “we”. (and, as an aside, one of the hardest challenges is figuring out when “I will change” is the right answer and when it’s the worst possible answer. It’s never obvious). I had to give up much of my neatnik ways to make things work with my wife. We both had to give up the concept of sleep when we had a child. It was worth it.

But even if Mike’s wife hadn’t had a distaste for his writing, there likely would’ve been some separation. It’s simply from the time and energy to maintain the persona. Every minute I spend at my computer, be it writing or musing or doing website maintenance or participating in chatroom discussions, is a minute I’m not spending elsewhere. There’s a strong argument that that time could be spent increasing the closeness with my wife. That’s part of the choice Mike’s made, I’m sure.

For me, though, that’s not as clear of a trade. I need a lot of alone time to stay sane. I can steal “Big Ed” time from that, and from lunch hours, and from a variety of windows where time with my wife is not an option. I also draw a lot of personal emotional sustenance from my “Big Ed” time. My wife has noticed I’m more pleasant to be around if I’ve been writing recently, so in some ways it actually helps.

Furthermore, I truly believe in the his-hers-ours relationship model (insert gender pronouns of your choice here). Relationships thrive when each person has some aspects of their lives that are separate from the other. It gives them something to bring to the table when they’re together. I allows them to be full independent individuals. It results in a partnership, rather than a single entity with two heads. Watch any cop show to see how partnership trumps a single entity every time.

I realize not everyone will share this philosophy. My response is, “that’s fine. But show me what you really do in your life–not what you say you do or what you believe you do. The philosophy is fine, but what’s the reality?” I’ve had some interesting conversations as a result.

And in the end, there may be some folks for whom it is truly different. Mike’s clearly different than me and I wish him luck. At the same time, I can only say, I’m glad I’m me and not him. The separation of selves serves me well.

When I finished A Good Christmas and posted it, I received several positive emails.  Feeling a little heady, the words just seemed to flow.  I completed this story (here) in a little over a week.  Thus,the Holiday Series was born.

The primary inspiration for this story was something that happened to an acquaintance (not the same person who was the inspiration for Dave, though).  My acquaintance had been blindsided by a divorce request from his wife.  Despite his desires to keep the marriage together, she was adamant, and her answers on why she wanted it were vague and unsatisfying.  Then a few months after their divorce, he ran into her and her new boyfriend and discovered she’d started seeing the new boyfriend (who he’d never heard of before) prior to asking for the divorce.

On the one hand, he was relieved because he now had a solid reason for the divorce.  On the other hand, he was furious because he’d been cheated on, about as much as one can.  This residual pain about being cheated on became part of Dave’s personality from this story on out.