Every now and again, you get these discussions about whether or not erotic fiction can ever be literature. Back when the previous Sallyanne Rogers blog was going, I wrote a couple of things about the whole concept of classic erotica (not least because I was – and still am – thoroughly bored with all the people who insist their favourite erotic writer is a safely dead one, like DH Lawrence or Anais Nin, neither of whom do much for me anyway).
Last year, on World Book Day, several erotica writers set up a separate celebration, Erotic World Book Day, and invited people to nominate their own contemporary favourites for a Top 100. The full list is here and it is deliciously eclectic. We weren’t, by the way, allowed to nominate our own output, so the fact that one of my own books made it in there is not due to any shenanigans on my part and I was utterly thrilled when I found it.
I do consider the WEBD chart to contain some wonderful writing along with a certain amount of hackwork and crap: so will you, whether you work your way through the whole list or just glance down the titles and see which ones you’ve actually read. But the books we rate or despise will all be different (the people who put that Top 100 together were very clear about the fact that the list wasn’t definitive and reflected a range of different opinions – there’s quite a bit of non-fiction in there for starters).
So I think I might revisit the idea of choosing my own Top Ten and explaining why each one made it onto my list. If you fancy doing the same – or even sending me some recommendations – I’d be interested to see what you come up with.