INTRODUCTION: FINDING MYSELF IN THE NARRATIVE

Emanuel Xavier

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s easy to forget we are a nation faced with many struggles when sex is everywhere around us—the front pages of newspapers, all over the Internet, used to sell everything from cars to shoes to kitchen appliances. Gay sex is fashionable and mainstream. Even if it’s subtle, all one has to do is pick up a magazine or turn on the television. I would be a hypocrite to claim not to indulge in such pleasures because I would rather focus on the realities of the world. Let’s face it—if every consenting adult could enjoy sex without repercussions, the world would be a better place.

When making selections, others have often complained how hard it is to choose which erotic short stories make the final cut. I found it’s not really that difficult. Stories forwarded to me from editor Richard Labonté either left me hot and bothered or had me curling into bed with my cat. The submissions I truly enjoyed made me close my eyes and jerk off until I stained them. Lube and cum stains sealed the selection of each finalist found in this collection.

Yeah, papi, they were that good!

Who wants to get really drunk, shut off the lights and go to bed with an “It’ll do for the night!” collection? Short stories should also hold up to sobriety and proper lighting in the morning. It was fun being asked to be a slut, to receive a diverse selection of erotic short stories, and to be asked to decide which work as both erotica and art. I knew deep inside I would get great submissions demonstrating the talents of creative individuals.

These are certainly the best from among the several hundred submitted to Richard. I know for a fact he suffered through hours and hours of crap that wouldn’t get even a scat fetishist off. So I make no apologies for getting turned on by the stories featured in this collection. I’ll keep it real: there is a lot of competition in writing erotica. Submitting your work to any publication is a quiet contest—much like walking around in a towel at a sex club, hoping to get laid by hot guys before your time is up. With so much hard-core sex and pornography thrown at us, erotica is a challenging word to define. It’s “works of art, including literature, photography, film, sculpture and painting, which deal substantively with erotically stimulating or arousing descriptions.” Or it’s “a modern word used to describe the portrayal of the human anatomy and sexuality with high-art aspirations, differentiating such work from commercial pornography.” However, artists are forever pushing extreme, “erotica” has been violently abused, left behind in some cheap hotel with a used condom sticking out of its ass. I’m happy to say that, while there are condoms in some of the stories here, there’s also a lot of art.

 

After Richard sifted through the submitted works of art, I received a stack of his favorites, with the author’s names deleted. It was truly awesome to discover, after the fact, that I was not familiar with more than half of the finalists. My picks had nothing to do with the writers’ reputations within the genre: I based my choices on the quality of the anonymous writing and weighed the impact of the stories against my own active healthy sex life. At times, I found myself trying to figure out if I knew the author, ever had sex with them, or even wanted to collaborate for mutual stimulation. As any narcissistic reader would, I imagined myself one of the characters in each story. But without knowing the authors’ identities until after I had made my selections, I was able to enjoy each submission not because I was physically (or intellectually) attracted to the writer, but because I found myself in each of these narratives.

As a writer, I read for inspiration, with the hope that emotions I never knew existed will be provoked. The erotica here offers a wide-ranging public glimpse into the private sexual desires of each of the authors—but it’s all consensual, and it’s all inviting. With so much going on in my world, I read mostly for simple pleasure. I got that, and so much more, from this collection.

 

My very first publication was a short story titled “Motherfuckers” in 1997. Even then, I knew to stay away from using certain words, the kind that elicited fits of laughter in the bedroom. For example, “mangina” would get any story trying to date me directions to the nearest exit. As a pet lover and a survivor of sexual abuse, I shunned any stories that involved harming pets or children. Likewise, as a person of color, any stories obsessed with white supremacy were snubbed. On the other hand, the subtle introduction of a condom was a definite plus. Some of the submissions seemed as if their authors were more interested in shocking than actually inviting the reader into their private worlds and arousing anything other than awe. Maybe I’m jaded, but an erotic story should excite the reader with its imagination, besides providing pleasure.

The tales I ultimately selected widened my eyes with the recognition of real people seeking to unwind from their everyday lives by sexually connecting to others. These were erotic adventures that took me on a thrilling journey, sometimes dropping me off when it was over in the familiar front of my apartment, other times leaving me somewhere out on a strange and exciting road. The voices featured eroticized real experiences and, sometimes playfully, sometimes surprisingly, revealed genuine desire.

As I read, I wondered how self-aware the writers were about having the reader indulge in their fantasies; I often sensed a smile on their mischievous faces as they challenged our own sexual constraints. Andrew McCarthy’s “Underground Operator,” Wayne Courtois’ “Capturing the King,” and dirty daddy horehound stillpoint’s “Donuts to Demons” are perfect examples of such stories.

Among these selected short stories, there is both pain and joy. A story by Lee Houck delves deeply into bondage, Simon Sheppard’s dabbles in hustling, Shane Allison’s poetic confessions draw deeply on his memories and Alana Noël Voth’s “Release” is all about longing; there is a Tim Miller performance classic, plenty of twosomes and threesomes, and a piss party as imagined by Charlie Vazquez. More improvised fantasies or off-the-cuff cravings motivate Arden Hill’s “My Boy Tuesday,” Jeff Mann’s “Snowed in with Sam,” Jason Shults’ “Minimum Damage, Minimum Pain,” and the fantasies of the gay couple in Sam J. Miller’s “Short Sad Sordid Sexual Encounters.” Whether the characters featured are simply exploring their passions, as in Taylor Siluwé’s (RIP) “Breeding Season,” or getting over relationships, as in Rhidian Brenig Jones’ “Come to Light,” it can be said that the root of all good erotica is love. Even the most provocative erotica, if carefully read, reveals the need to connect on a deeper level. Sometimes through these stories we discover things that arouse us about which we may not have been fully aware. Whatever emotional demands a short story such as Tom Cardamone’s “Funeral Clothes” or Andy Quan’s “The Best Sex between Them” places on us, at least we are able to relate to the writers and enjoy the ride. The result is a celebration of the pleasures of gay sex.

So welcome to a diversity of voices, revel in an exploration of sexuality and a range of desires and indulge yourselves with the anthology—and remember, the authors are not always their characters. Erotica writers are often not what we imagine them to be, which says a lot about all of us on a more intimate level.

Finally, thanks to Cleis Press for trusting me with this collection, and to Richard, for making the selection process so easy. And thanks, of course, to the seventeen writers featured, for providing me (and now all of you) with such splendid pleasure.

 

Brooklyn, New York
August 2007