Where Are All the REALLY Slutty Girls?

In keeping with the whorehouse theme of my last blog post, this one takes it one notch closer to the gutter. Get your Lysol wipes and hand gel ready, you’re gonna need them after this post. Mom, Dad…I suggest you stop reading now.

While I work my full-time writerly/publishingerly job, I often get called upon to review books for publishing houses. It’s really cool. I get to read books before the rest of you, and I get to pass judgment on them without ever having to look the poor author in the eye. After one particularly bad incident where I drank the wine BEFORE reviewing Willie Nelson’s book (2 stars…it was pretty bad), I’ve now learned to temper my reactions, remain a professional at all times, and have the wine AFTER writing the review.

But I’m being pushed to my limits with the unholy amount of nasty romance books that literally (editors, I used that word correctly…I mean, actually literally) shows up on my doorstep (the literal door step, right outside my door). I used to clap my hands and feel really smug when a small package from a Big Five publisher would be waiting for me; it made me feel important. Now it just makes me reach for the above mentioned Lysol wipes and hand gel. Here’s why:

I just reviewed a book that included a play-by-play of a twenty-year-old virgin giving her first hand job. There was actually a description of her fascination with studying his um, sample (?) on her hands like a slutty little Jane Goodall…yes, fucking STUDYING, was the word the author chose to use…the biological matter on her hand when he was finished. (Here, take some of my Lysol wipes…I now keep them next to my computer for OCD moments such as this one.)

NOTE TO PUBLISHERS: You’re the reason I drink while I review books. I hope you can live with yourself.

When I was in school, there were quite a number of…worldly…girls among the student body. We heard about them, people whispered about them, but no one really had any concrete proof of their worldliness. Now that Facebook provides us all the proof we need of girls’ rampant and usually drunken worldliness, these books have really started to confuse me.

WHERE ARE THESE AUTHORS DIGGING UP ALL THESE GROWN-UP VIRGINS?!

It’s like every single story line has to follow the archaic model of a sweet and inexplicably innocent barely legal girl paired up with a wealthy, older, experienced, unattached, farm-animal endowed guy. Seriously? Name me three towns in America that has BOTH of those people running around.

So why do people buy this crap? Is it all those worldly girls I alluded to, buying up this stuff and trying to reimagine the way it actually happened? Are they envisioning shyly doing the nasty on his private jet instead of under the bleachers the way they actually did it? And wouldn’t you think it would just make them feel really bad and judgmentalled? Is it because their “firsts” were so unbelievably awkward and therapy-inducing that they need to pretend that these stories are actually happening all over the world right at that very minute?

I’ve always heard that porn gives men unrealistic expectations about women, but the gals are just as guilty. In these books, all men know how to give incredible orgasms while deftly having sex in the back of their limos, quite possibly from the genetic mutation that made them so oversized, and all girls are quiet and timid until the right man comes along who also has a genetic mutation that makes his eyes work differently from the rest of society’s, enabling him to see the beauty beneath her faded, stained hoodie. She morphs before his very eyes into a cross between Miss America and a pole dancer before descending all the way into Vegas hooker mode.

I’ve been a part of the book industry in various forms for quite some time now, and here’s what I think would REALLY sell: total sluts. Guy sluts, girl sluts, sheep sluts, whatever. Absolute, genuine, Facebook-bans-your-account sluts. Tell it like it is, make it as realistic as you want to, and stop pretending that there are bookstores and coffee shops all over the world stocked with wallflowers who just need a good banging from the rich guy who decides to get his own coffee for once. Sluts, I tell ya. That’s the way to go.

21 responses

  1. I had a few thoughts about the romance genre yesterday. I saw an urban fantasy book I thought looked interesting , and it turned out to have a strong romance element. Reading the blurb was a total eyeroll moment, apart from making me want to vomit. I’m not sure if the woman was an unrealisic virgin, but she somehow went from being a valued warrior in one paragraph to afraid and ‘needing him’ in the next. That was the point where my stomach turned.

    Romance is giving women unrealistic expectations, and also probably perpetuating sexism, the notion that women can’t be strong and assertive, and body image issues. As always you were hilarious, but my recent mulling over these serious issues dampened the humour for me thistime around *sigh*. Sad, because I could have done with a good laugh ;-)

    I feel the need to say – there is absolutely no reason why a romance novel can’t feature a strong ballsy woman! Now THAT I might read.

    1. Okay, this post has sparked some really interesting dialogue about what we’re all going to write next. So far we’re up to strong ballsy women who live with men who are poor, have small penises, and even smaller bank accounts. I smell the Pulitzer from here!

  2. As always, Ms Infrognito, you have caused me great pain in my sides and a sore muscle ache across my face…it took me a full ten minutes to go from hysterical laughter to uncontrollable giggling to being able to see clearly again so I could properly thank you for yet another wonderful fit of full on, body shaking laughter! Cheers!

  3. Laughing too hard.

    Clearly I’ve been reading the wrong things – maybe it’s because page one of these warns me not to go any further.

    Here I am, trying to write a difficult relationship, but all I have to do is write… ick.

  4. Oh my, this had me laughing!!!

  5. Yeah well, instead of calling a slut a slut we calls her 50 Shades to the tune of six figures… And we return to the time when a woman needed a man to bring her to maturity. It ain’t love and romance, that’s for damn sure.
    And where are all these super sexed up virgins coming from??? Must be virgin magic.
    I’m kinda grossed out. Don’t much care to ‘study’ the sticky stuff on my hand.

    1. Really? And here all this time I took you for a scientist! :)

      1. The most easily grossed out scientist you know.

        1. Ooooh, you’re one of those plant weirdos who can’t stand the site of blood. It’s no big thing.

          1. I don’t mind my blood or the blood of family members – it’s the blood that wells up with that first cut… Ewwwww!

  6. Lmfao….i like to read them because it’s something to do that doesn’t require brain cells. But whole post is spot on lol

    1. Thanks! I’ll be sure to loan you my copy of the virgin’s guide to pulling over on the side of the road and giving the older guy a hand job, then playing with his semen. :)

      1. Oooo cant wait lol. Maybe I need to start reviewing books…although probably not…the witty stuff in my head seems to run screaming when I sit down to type

        1. That’s why there’s a draft folder! Save that stuff and read it BEFORE hitting publish. I learned that the hard way years ago. Truthfully, though, if you love to read, start yourself a free wordpress blog about books and then let authors and publishers know you’ll review for a free copy. Many of mine comes as ebooks, but just as many come to my house as print.

          1. Haha would be nice but too much on the proverbial plate right now…can’t think of last time i read a book

  7. While I am personally as unacquainted with this genre as I am with rich guys lurking around in limos, you may have hit on something. We will still need the lysol but at least the story will have a ring of truth to it. Well, maybe not about the sheep sluts. Very funny, lorca

    1. I’m on a personal crusade to write realistic romance starring only mediumly well-endowed men, women who could stand to switch to Splenda, and people with actual bank account problems. Not sure how well it’s gonna sell, but somebody has to do it, dammit! Do it for the kids!

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