The Delicate Balance
THERE’S AN INTERESTING STORY behind how I discovered Fifty Shades of Grey. It wasn’t at a pool party, like the one I attended a few weeks ago where Fifty Shades was the topic of conversation among half the guests during dinner. It wasn’t at the supermarket, where I ran into someone who was reading Fifty Shades and asked me if I’d read it because he knows I write erotic fiction. And it wasn’t at a graduation, where some of the guests were whispering and giggling about this new steamy book on all the bestseller lists.
I actually found Fifty Shades while perusing the internet about two or three months before it went mainstream. There’s this one book review blog I frequent often, because I usually find that the negative book reviews they publish are almost always books I know I’m going to love. It never fails. On that particular night, there was an extremely scathing book review for Fifty Shades written by a serious BDSM reader and I knew immediately I had to buy and read it. Practically every single negative comment in that review was something I knew would keep me reading. So I went to Amazon, downloaded it to my e-reader, and found myself drawn into the story line the moment I started reading. This happened back in February 2012. At the time there were a handful of Amazon reviews for Fifty Shades. Last time I checked there were now over 8,000.
As a published author of gay erotic romance and erotica, I’m not as familiar with the BDSM subgenre as I am with others. Although I’d written truncated stories with light BDSM scenes that I’d worked into less complicated plots over the years, I’d never actually written a full-length novel where the love, emotion, and erotica revolved around a BDSM theme or “lifestyle.” It was Fifty Shades that inspired me to do this. And not because it was a huge bestseller; I read Fifty Shades and posted about it on my website months before it went mainstream. Fifty Shades inspired me because BDSM was a topic that I’d kept at a distance for too long, partly because I didn’t feel comfortable writing about it and partly because I wasn’t certain I could do it justice.
When I finally decided to try, in a full-length BDSM novel titled Jonah Sweet of Delancey Street, I set a few personal goals—including avoiding the same mistakes BDSM readers thought Fifty Shades had made. Those who are avid writers and readers in the BDSM genre take it very seriously. From what I read in various reviews about Fifty Shades, many in the BDSM community seemed to think essential elements of the “lifestyle” were not included in the book. Ironically, I also think this is why so many in the mainstream who knew nothing about BDSM loved the book and made it a huge success. They were all curious about BDSM, in the same way I was when I first heard about it, but didn’t know enough about the “lifestyle” to see any flaws.
By listening to readers and other writers who have very strong opinions about BDSM erotica and erotic romance, I learned more about the important elements they felt Fifty Shades of Grey lacked. While I don’t believe there are too many mistakes one can make in writing BDSM fiction, because it’s hard to find a set definition of BDSM anywhere, I do believe there are a few key elements that are essential to BDSM fiction, which readers come to expect. And yet I still couldn’t understand why the serious BDSM readers were so upset about Fifty Shades. As an amateur, I didn’t see any problems with the book, and from reviews I’ve read and comments I’ve heard, neither do most other amateurs.
I needed more information for my novel, and I needed to dig deeper to find out why there were so many differing opinions about what was required in a BDSM novel and what this all meant to Fifty Shades. So I asked questions both of people who were and weren’t serious BDSM readers. Almost every single avid reader of BDSM I spoke to during my research mentioned one element I found fascinating: the delicate balance between what happens during erotic BDSM scenes and what happens during non-erotic scenes.
It’s not the only element BDSM readers look for, not by any means. Serious BDSM readers tend to be extremely articulate and they know what they want. But this one element was important to all of them, with respect to character development and how the BDSM moved the story forward. In erotic romance where there is BDSM and love is the focus, some even said they believe this element moves the love in the story forward. And it adds to the trust and respect that are both necessary to all BDSM stories, long or short.
I knew I had to be careful with my own story; it worried me for a while, to the point where I almost didn’t tackle the project. What had inspired me so innocently with Fifty Shades might also hurt me with my own book. I might not be equipped to write BDSM material convincingly, and I knew my audience would lean more toward serious BDSM readers than the average mainstream reader who knew nothing about BDSM (though I wasn’t opposed to attracting mainstream readers who weren’t experts on BDSM in the same way Fifty Shades attracted so many readers). I knew I had to balance the important erotic BDSM aspects with the equally important psychological and emotional elements in non-erotic scenes. As significant as the distinctly defined roles of the submissive and Dominant are to all BDSM books in erotic scenes, it was just as significant for characters in BDSM books to find an emotional balance in non-erotic scenes if the love or the relationship was going to endure.
Another factor that seemed to be important to serious BDSM readers was that the characters had to be open and willing to try the “lifestyle.” In other words, the character has to want to do it from the very beginning and not be forced or coerced into doing it. I found that most serious BDSM readers didn’t think this happened in Fifty Shades. In fact, I heard from more than one reader that the only issue they had with Fifty Shades was the fact that Anastasia was not interested in BDSM and Christian was. As a novice reading the book, this aspect of Fifty Shades was not a problem for me. I’ll even admit openly that I found it compelling and intriguing. I was reading Fifty Shades for escapism and entertainment. And I could understand why it would not be a problem for all the mainstream readers who were captured by the story line. In the same respect, the more research I did, the more I could understand how it would frustrate serious BDSM readers.
In a general sense, I learned that most BDSM readers aren’t fond of weak, lackluster sub characters in non-erotic scenes. Like most readers in any genre, they hate dumb characters altogether. And many considered Anastasia to be both dumb and weak. They don’t mind gentle, sensitive characters. And they don’t mind quirky fundamental flaws. But weakness and being a submissive in a BDSM novel do not go hand in hand. More than that, being Dominant doesn’t necessarily mean a character is stronger in an emotional sense in non-erotic scenes than a submissive character. I’ve heard some say they prefer it when the Dom has certain vulnerabilities in non-erotic scenes.
This is where I learned that the complicated balancing act between what happens during erotic D/s scenes and non-erotic scenes begins. The Dom character can be emotionally vulnerable, with more than one hidden insecurity, and carrying a great deal of baggage. The mask of dominance and the desire to inflict pain he or she possesses, and the need to control everyone and every single situation, could be nothing more than a façade to keep the world from knowing the harsh truth—that the character has deep insecurities. But he or she can’t be too aggressive in non-erotic scenes. And he or she definitely cannot be a sexist or misogynist. On the other hand, if the sub character comes off as weak and pathetic in non-erotic scenes it can be just as obnoxious as having the Dom be too aggressive.
This balance-of-power aspect in BDSM books can be deceiving for readers and writers who aren’t familiar with BDSM erotica. It was for me in the beginning. New readers often have the preconceived notion that the Dom character will be controlling in all aspects of the relationship and that the sub will always be nothing more than a doormat who carries with him or her psychological issues from the past that have made him or her a sub. Those readers familiar with BDSM find this mindset condescending at best and insulting at worst. Some would even go on to say that those into the “lifestyle” in real life don’t have any baggage; they just like BDSM. Period.
No one could argue the point that in a D/s situation during a BDSM scene the sub releases all power to the Dom, allowing the Dom full control. If the sub is inexperienced, it’s the Dom’s job to use good judgment and keep things from getting out of hand. The stronger the Dom is, and the more the sub trusts the Dom, the more intense the scene will be. By relinquishing all power to the Dom the sub finally experiences the emotional intensity that can’t be found anywhere else. But all that should end as soon as they both get off.
The separation between what happens to the characters during the D/s scenes and what happens while they are functioning in non-D/s scenes becomes a crucial element in the plot and in the depth of the characters’ relationship. In my book I decided to make the Dom an aggressive, controlling individual who came close to being a narcissistic sociopath. He didn’t cross the line, but he always seemed to be on the verge. The reason he didn’t cross the line is because the sub in my book wouldn’t let him. My sub wouldn’t be controlled outside the sex scenes.
The sub in my book was the gentle, sensitive type who tended to trust people more than he should have. He also had a secret yearning for the “lifestyle” and didn’t have to be talked into doing BDSM. It would have been simple to make him a doormat in all aspects of his life. But that’s not how it works with most subs in real life. I gave my sub an inner strength that some might even say meant he had a stronger personality than the Dom. He also had a way of taking control of the relationship without trying too hard when they weren’t involved in the BDSM scenes. And when faced with situations that didn’t involve the erotic BDSM aspects of their relationship, my sub made it clear from the beginning that my Dom would not control him in every aspect of the relationship. I ultimately found this brought the story to another level, even though it wasn’t exactly what I read in Fifty Shades.
What did all my research with BDSM mean for Fifty Shades? The basics I loved most in Fifty Shades, and what millions of other readers seemed to love, too, weren’t elements that worked well with people who are serious readers of BDSM. It took me a while to figure that out and to fully comprehend why they didn’t work. But I think it’s vitally important to understand that this is not in any way a bad thing. Writers in any subgenre are always trying to attract a new audience that isn’t familiar with that subgenre. No one can say that Fifty Shades didn’t break that proverbial glass ceiling for BDSM writers by introducing BDSM into the mainstream. It’s opened doors for other BDSM writers that have been nailed shut for years. It shows that writing BDSM fiction covers a great deal of territory and sometimes books focus on one element over others. And I would venture to guess that if Fifty Shades had followed more of the guidelines that serious BDSM readers and writers follow, it might not have become as popular in the mainstream as it is now.
RYAN FIELD is a gay fiction writer who has worked in many areas of publishing for the past twenty years. He’s the author of the bestselling Virgin Billionaire series and the short gender-bending story “Down the Basement,” which was included in the Lambda Award–winning anthology Best Gay Erotica 2009. You can check out his website at www.ryan-field.blogspot.com.