All Erotic Writers Are Sluts (Well, that’s what people think)

Why writing sex isn’t a confession—and why people treat it like one.

Disclaimer: No men were harmed in the writing of my spicy book.

So... what do you write?

On the quiet thrill of writing erotic fiction, and why people really want to know.

It’s never just a question.
When someone asks what I write, they’re asking for more than a genre.

I say “crime and thrillers,” and they nod. “Nice.” No follow-up. No suspicion.
I could be killing characters in cold blood, building entire worlds around obsession and vengeance—but no one flinches.

Say “erotic fiction” and everything changes.

Suddenly, they lean in. They look bashful, but intrigued. The voice drops half a register. They ask questions like they’re not sure they’re allowed to—but they really want the answers.

Do you write from experience?
Is it... your fantasies?
Is it like Fifty Shades? Or more... dark?

There’s a hunger there, not just for the fiction, but for the woman behind it.
For the assumption that if I can write it, I must have lived it. Or dreamed it. Or wanted it.

I’m not the Robert De Niro of the writing world. I’m not a method writer. I haven’t rawdogged ten men in one evening for research.

And I haven’t sliced someone’s throat open with a butter knife either when I’m writing crime.

When you write about sex, people assume it must be autobiographical. They assume you’re confessing, not crafting.

They’re wrong, of course. But I let them wonder.

What Writing Erotic Fiction Actually Feels Like

It’s not some secret confession booth. It’s not a live journal. It’s craft.

Writing sex well is some of the hardest writing there is. It demands restraint, rhythm, tension, detail, timing, and tone. It asks you to make something felt on the page, not just described. It teaches you what to show and what to withhold.

People love to separate genres like they exist on moral tiers—literary at the top, erotica somewhere near the bin, crime somewhere in the respectable middle. But writing is a craft, no matter the label. A good sex scene and a good murder scene have more in common than people think: both rely on pacing, tension, detail, and release. Both hinge on power. Both change the character. And in both cases, if you flinch, the reader feels it. You’re not there to be coy—you’re there to pull them in, hold them tight, and make them feel something. That’s craft. And it deserves respect, wherever it shows up on the shelf.

But It’s Also This...

It’s liberation.

Writing erotic fiction gives me a space to explore things that might never show up in daily life, but are no less real.

Desire. Shame. Power. Humiliation. Hunger. Reversal. The feeling of being in control.
The feeling of not being in control, and wanting it that way.

It lets me write women who aren’t nice. Who aren’t “likeable.” Who take what they want. Who break things. Who aren’t sorry.

And it lets readers want it, too.

What Happens When You Publish It

The moment it’s out there, something shifts. People read it, and they look at you differently. Not always in a bad way. But differently.

They think you’re dangerous. They think you’ve said too much. They think you’re showing more than you are, maybe revealing your true self. But really? You’re showing them exactly what you want them to see. And not an inch more.

Why I’ll Keep Writing It

Because the stories matter. Because the characters deserve their pages. Because it’s a kind of intimacy that doesn’t require permission.

And because, when it’s done well, it’s some of the most subversive, satisfying writing there is. And then there’s the fact that erotica and dark romance are two of the most consistently high-performing, high-demand, and high-growth areas in self-publishing right now, which fit perfectly in my £1.5M Project!

If you’re curious, I write under a pen name. Lillianna Vale.

You won’t find clumsy euphemisms or perfect people. You’ll find heat, hunger, elegance, and women who write the rules—and break them.

And no, I won’t tell you which parts are true.

That’s the fun of it.

— H.J.

You can read my first published novella under my pen name, Lillianna Vale, on Amazon now.