a sea change wrapped in a sex change

Longtime readers of these pretty dumb things may have noticed a change in my writing—and not merely the fact that after a long and robust glacial age, the block has thawed and I am now writing again. No, rather I speak of the complete dearth of sex writing.

I’ve always said this was a blog with sex and not a blog of it. That distinction, however, was probably a pallid one in the eyes of my larger audience. At its peak, this blog had some pretty respectable stats; it averaged around 4,000 pages a day read by around 2,000 readers. Those readers arrived at my virtual bedpost because my blog had come to light through a cluster of connections with other sex blogs, whether big, small or anything in between. Becoming part of that larger community of—and I use this term reluctantly because I’m not fond of it—sex-positive people was pretty exciting. I felt enlivened by a groundswell of support of such like-minded, happy fucking folk.

And yet that sense of belonging didn’t come without a steaming side dish of obligation. While I’d begun writing about sex because it really was the thing taking up the biggest portion of my sludgy grey matter, I didn’t consciously make the decision to write a sex blog. I had stumbled upon the challenge of translating the purely somatic and ineffable into the completely intellectual and articulated, and I found out I was good at it. Praise can be a terrific motivator (one even better than spite, it turns out), and so I wrote more often about sex because more and more people seemed to like it. I became the editor of Tuesday’s Fleshbot sex-blog roundup. I got more readers. I found myself writing more about sex to keep them. I acquired more readers and so on. It was a circle-jerk of a sort and it felt just fine.

Until the time when it didn’t.  All of a sudden, I found myself wearied rather than energized when I contemplated which of my sex ponies to trot out into the ring. The sex writing wore on me, and it wasn’t just the compulsion to find something dirty, wet, glistening, pungent, roseate and adamantine to write about. It was also that I’d grown closer to my X, Donny. We grew close as kudzu, and with that embiggening intimacy came a reluctance to splay our relationship open like an anatomist’s textbook. I began to feel as if tour-buses were unloading in my bedroom, and the exposure caused discomfort. Still, though, because I had so many readers, I kept writing about sex.

Beginning about a year ago, the time when I realized that my break with my X was absolute, I stopped writing about sex because I stopped having it, and because slaloming in the wake of pain as I was, the subject just hurt too much to submerge myself in it. I began writing about sex less and less, and then I began writing anything less and less, and then I stopped writing altogether.

These days I don’t have a lot of interest in writing about sex at all. Part of my erotica apathy stems from the sense that I’ve written a lot about sex. I’ve described it. I’ve intellectualized it. I’ve made it funny. I’ve made it emo. I’ve done it in a train. I’ve done it with some pain. I’ve done it with a frown. I’ve done it with a clown. And I don’t know how much more I have to say about the sex. I am proud of my sex-writing. It’s damn good and it taught me a lot. It also has helped other people, or so all the emails I have received specifically about my deep-throating posts have led me to believe.

So there’s the feeling that I’ve done it to death. But there’s also the inescapable fact that I’m not fucking anyone right now, and while it would be nice to do so in the future, I’d like to fuck that person without the intellectual specter hanging over my bed and narrating what I’m doing and feeling. No one needs to imagine an apparitional Howard Cosell providing color commentary whilst one is going at it like rabid mongooses, not unless that fantasy would enhance one’s experience, in which case have at it. Plus there’s the fact that most humans don’t want their sexual experiences put into artful narratives and posted where the virtual world can see it. Sex with a human would be nice. Some day.

It’s hard to change branding. Even though Blackwater has become Xe, will we ever forget what it did? Or ponder about the disaster that was New Coke. We humans have long memories, however often we forget where we put our glasses. I realize that this will not be the pretty dumb things of yore, yet I hope that my old readers will stay with me, because the small girl within me wants to please everyone, even as the grown woman knows that’s an utter impossibility. I can’t say I’ll never write the sex again, I just can’t say when it will be.

I can, however, tell you that “poodle” is, was, and always will be my safe-word. I look forward to the day when I again have the sublime opportunity to use it, regardless of whether I choose to put it in writing.

Comments

[BearFree]

Chelsea, Chelsea, Chelsea,
When are you going to learn that those who stuck with you did so, not because your writing about your moist and slippery parts titilated us, but because of the way you wrote it! In my opinion, you could be writing about your reflections on the evolution of the Slippery Elm, and I would likely read it. I would have to say that I liked those sexy bits, but I kept checking back for new posts even when it was obvious that your X was Xpunged and that your mind was off creative playtime between consenting adults.
However, a prediction; the time will come again, (Pun intended) when you find someone who makes all of your feminine bits tingly again. I think you'll want to write about it. Maybe not, but it is a prediction anyway.
Poodle... I'll have to consult Freud on that one!
BearFree

[aag]

I'm just glad you're writing again, whether about deep-throating or Dorothy Parker. Or poodles. Or anything else. Please continue and know that I've deeply missed you.

[Dale]

Dear Lady Chelsea:

Yrs:

"I’d like to fuck that person without the intellectual specter hanging over my bed ......"

Well if you can handle the obsequious and vividly passionate fondlings of a 50 year old, I am game!LOL!

Really, I am glad that you are in the groundlessness of a ship at sea,a beauutiful vessel with the white wing sails spread before a fond wind. You will one day fall head over heels, and be very afraid as a rsult. And you finally won't be if theat man is the luckiest SOB in the world like he could be. I had said inseveral posts to you that you might need a man,not a boy.

Much love and cheers, and for heavens sake, where is that best selling Cleland like NYC novel I was hoping you would write?

Dale

[X on the MTA]

I wholeheartedly agree with BearFree. Even your comments at Gawker are good reading!

[Karl Elvis]

You know, when I got started blogging, and started collecting sex blogger readers, I wanted to turn my blog into a sex blog.

The trouble I had was that I really hate writing about sex.

While I write erotica, and do it pretty well (or so I keep hearing, along with professions of orgasms and wet dreams inspired), what I actually am doing is writing about people - about characters. Those characters tend to wind up fucking because that's what I'm like in real life (in will if not always in fact). BUt the eroticism comes from personality, from narrative.

When I sit down just to write something sexual, I find tab-a-in-slot-b has limited permutations, and I get bored trying to find new ways to describe hard penises and wet vaginas; bored with trying to find balance between raw and poetic while repeating the same basic acts.

I gave up the idea of trying to force eroticism into my blog. It shows up, from time to time, when what I have to say that day is filthy. But it's not a theme, and hasn't been for a long time.

My personal point of view on blogging is that one should write whatever the fuck one feels like writing, and never, ever try to adhere to any theme. Because there's a limit of what we can say about blowjobs, or cupcakes, or knitting, or whatever theme we may have chosen. But there's no limit to what most of us can say about our own lives.

[Traboyk]

I prefer "UN Secretary General Ban Ki-Moon" as my safeword...but whatever works. And I am glad you are writing again. While I do love me some saucy writing, I dig you in general. So hooray for not being stuck in the abyss.

[Summer]

Woman, I have been reading what you write from nearly day one. I have always read your stuff (heck I've got books on my shelves with your writing which I show off proudly to my friends). I will always read your stuff.

I LOVE the WAY you write and if you want to write about car doors or lollipops or having icepops in summer - I will read it. And buy the books about them, and point them out to my friends and say "My friend wrote this! Isn't it awesome." Because really - you are, your work is, and I want to read every word that comes out of those pretty fingers of yours.

Write about whatever you want, just keep writing. And I am SO.SO. Glad you're back at it. You were missed.

[Sweat Shop Sissy]

This is (or was) a sex blog???
I was just here for the bon-bons and java. There's still going to be snacks, right?

[Chuck]

You gave your muse a rest, and she/he/it came back to life. Your libido will let you know when it's ready to come out and play again.

At that point, the more interesting challenge for you as a writer might be to take these new aspects of your life as inspiration, rather than being a reporter. In turn, these inspired writings might function more as a gossamer covered night light for your new relationship than as a journalistic spotlight.

[alphagirl]

CG

I echo all of the above and add this, I have read your blog for years because of HOW you write and that it resonates with me. I missed you while your muse was resting. I am glad you and she have reconnected!

alphagirl

[chelsea g.]

Well, gosh. I'm touched and in a seriously warm and fuzzy way.

Thank you so much for the support and the free validation. I really appreciate it. In response, I'm preparing a series of pieces on slippery elm lollipops, which, coincidentally, I'll also be serving as snacks.

kissykiss,
chelsea g.

[Sybil Vane]

Chelsea, SOOO glad you are writing again. About whatever. Really. Glad you are bac in my cyberspace girl. I wish we could do a drink.

[1st Republic 14th Star]

You can write about anything -- sex, car repairs, cake baking, whatever -- and you'll have a following. People appreciate the way you write -- both the technical expertise and the emotion and thought process behind your creative process. Keep it up.

[Drew]

Hey Chelsea,

I've been a recent lurker on your blog. And regardless of why you've stopped, know that I'm glad you spoke luridly and publicly for as long as you have. Thank you for that. You do make a difference in people's lives. Yes, sex writing makes a difference. For me it has been a positive difference. Thank you for that. I guess in short, write anything you like and I will wish you the best. I'm glad and I am blessed that you wrote what you did.

And I am very glad you are bouncing back. Good people like you have earned it.

[sera]

I come here for the sexy writing, not for the sex, and you're still dripping it all over the place, babe.

[Tom]

As someone who has read your sexblogs, your academic writings, and your emails, I can testify that all of them are equally entertaining. It's not the content, it's your own inimitable style that makes them all so much fun to read. So whether it's Clarissa or cocksucking, I don't really care, just keep writing!

[Pete]

CG,
Just keep writing, you have style!
Pete

[Arlen]

go write a chapter about a paperclip, and i will love every bit of it.

[gillette]

Thank You. Bless You. Yes.

[Jenn]

I think I speak for many people when I say that I've missed you, and your voice, and your intelligence, and your writing. Yes, reading about sex was enthralling, but reading about the other human sides of you was the real reward. Additionally, you have the best grammar and vocabulary of any blogger out there - but you already knew that. I can't tell you how sad I was when you stopped writing this summer, I felt like I lost a pen-pal (even if it was a more unilateral exchange).

I've been reading this blog for...a long time, and at 24 years old, I can attribute a lot a great deal of my ideals (sex, feminist, independence, and perseverance) to you.

So yeah, don't leave us again. No Pressure or anything.

[Eamon]

I was actually getting tired of the sex and thinking it was a bit too much. Maybe that's because you were getting tired of it too.

I will certainly be checking out whatever you decide to write about.

[badinfluencegirl]

thanks for coming back here... it was lonely without you.

funny, i still want to write smut just not only.