There are many of those types of things. Like my brother sitting down tonight with a Tupperware container full of meat and a glass of milk. I guess that's what you do when you are on Atkins. But he's not on Atkins. So there is that.
And then there's that time I was on the Metro in the D.C. and a man complimented my rather stylish purse. It's red and pretty and I always get compliments on it. However that was just a ruse, really, a segue if you will into a discussion of his shadowboxing relationship with God. I do mean that. He told me about how he shadowboxes with God. You can't make this stuff up, peeps! I can tell you, I did not see that coming for certain. Actually, I have this history with older men and bizarre conversations. One day, I will tell you the story of the old man, B&N, water, eggs, doctors, Communists, books and an explosion. It's a doozie folks, so you won't want to miss it. Maybe tomorrow. But not tonight.
Tonight I want to discuss something that is perplexing me quite a lot these days. So let's just cut to the chase. What is up with adult literature and sex? Hmmmm? Can you please explain it to me? Every time I pick up a piece of fiction written in the last five years for an adult audience, sex must come in to play at some point in the story. It must. If not, it must contain vulgarities, most expecially? The F-bomb. And I have to tell you, it makes me wonder.
Has adult literature devolved because people have devolved? And I wonder if we are all hormonal, sex-crazed teens who must have sex be a part of any and all entertainment options available. Otherwise it isn't worth our time?
Here is the irony. I have to go to the YA section of the lib or the bookstore to find literature that I feel okay about. That is unless, of course, I'm reading adult literature that was written in, oh, 1812. The irony being that the real sex-crazed teens (which I so totally don't buy that stereotype, really...at least not for the females, in any case) are not being subjected to the racy, tawdry, dare I say even disgusting or silly or ridiculous sex in novels.
I'm an adult. And I know that people have sex. I get it.
BUT!!! Rarely does sex advance a story line...at least not the types of stories that I read. For example, mystery/thrillers. Those are stories about killers on the loose. They are not about the lead character hooking up with his/her very hot sidekick, boss, partner, etc. and so forth. But I can't think of any recent mystery/thriller that does not contain sex, save perhaps Dan Brown, for the most part, I think. And that is just the mystery/thriller genre. There are several other genres. I read a lot. And I'm telling you, it is pretty pervasive.
It makes me go hmmmm. Have we so totally bought into this idea that sex sells or that it's so all encompassing (i.e. it is all human beings think about ever) that it must be in every story we read all the time? I mean it is all over, not just in books. Or has creativity run out to the point that we can't think of anything else, so we spice it up with sex and call it day and sell it to the fine folks of these United States? Maybe it's just me. However, I'm not so convinced that we must make everything soooooo sexay and naughtay in order for people to be interested.
Maybe writers should try to write a good story. Maybe that would work, instead of devolving to the lowest common denominator. Just a little thought.
agreed
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