I write romance. Sometimes I write erotica. I feel absolutely no shame in this. So it makes me wonder why others feel it for me. If you knew me, really knew me, you might not be able to guess about the erotica. The romance sure. I am a hopeless romantic, always have been. I don’t shy away from it, far from it. I am vocal about it. I watch cheesy rom coms and period romances fairly often. I am a sucker for fairy-tales, for woman being swept off their feet by dashing rogues, and sometimes I even like a paranormal romance.
My love for all things romantic goes all the way back to when dinosaurs roamed the earth…no I kid. But it did start young. I couldn’t have been more than eight or nine when I started stealing my mom’s Avon romances. I can even remember the first one that screamed my name so insistently that I stole it from her box and read it under the cover of my blanket with a flashlight. (yes I was that kid) It was one of a series based on all 50 states. I was a kid and the thought of reading a book based on the state I grew up in amazed me. All these years later I have no clue what the story was about, only that from that day on I was hooked. I tore through them all. I gobbled up everything my mom had, and bless her, she turned a blind eye to it.
I didn’t encounter a sex scene in those state themed books so I was unprepared when I stumbled upon Johanna Lindsey. Holy smokes. My eyes. My brain. My imagination. To say I devoured them all would be an understatement. As my mom got them in, I read them. Some nights I stayed up so late reading I ended up staying home from school because I would sleep the whole day away. I’m not saying what my mom did was right, but I thank her every day. She instilled a love of reading in me that I cherish.
Books are a big, huge even, part of my life. As soon as I knew I wanted to be a writer when I grew up, I knew I wanted to write romance. Back then I had no idea the stigma umbrella I would be shoved under. It was fine and I handled it until erotica came into my life. I won’t say, I can’t say, that I am huge into reading erotica. I have read some because I was unaware that’s what it was. Then I read some because I was intrigued. I will admit it is not my forte, but damn is it fun to write. Really fun, like split my side open laughing so hard I almost cry fun.
That being said I still don’t talk about it a ton. To my friends who also write it, yes. To my family, no. Even though I am an adult and I have chosen it as my profession, and it is one i am damn good at, I still feel like I’ll be judged. Like maybe I should walk around with a sandwich board that reads
No, I am not a perv.
No, I am not a nympho
No, I don’t feel like my husband isn’t enough for me
You get the picture right? Most days I go back and forth between wanting to shout it from the rooftops and wanting to hide it in a cave. My precious.. just call me Gollum. I work so hard at it and I would hate for people to snub their noses at it simply because they don’t understand. I feel like maybe I should be in a 12 step program for erotica writers who haven’t come out of the closet yet.
So here goes. My name is Sheri. I write romance and erotica. I think I’m pretty good at it. If you don’t like it, that’s fine. I do. Have a nice day 🙂