In a straight-back wooden chair sits a naked man at your kitchen table.  What do you do? 

The answer depends entirely on who the “you” is.  At this point in the story, it’s not so much about the man as it is about the person in the kitchen door. 

Audience.  It’s our subject of the week.  

Now, before anyone gets out their pencils, Elmer’s Glue and protractors, let me assure you – this is not school, and if anybody calls me their “teacher” somebody better be sporting a school uniform at their knees and a “Paddle me. I’ve been bad” sign Elmer glued to their ass. (hmmm… so that’s what the glue was for?).  I do not profess to be anything more than a crazy chick in a black sheepskin jumper.  So, moving on…

Audience.  Who’s at the kitchen door?  A smart author will always know exactly who’s lurking in that doorway.  Critics of erotica/romance writers often complain that these authors must not be able to write in any other genre.  Critics pigeonhole us.  These critics are fools.  We, the erotica/romance writers of the world, are the true entrepreneurs.  We keep our eye on that kitchen door at all times (in other words, we know our market).  We can pretty much guess if our voyeurs are sporting a “Twilight” shirt underneath their coat (i.e.: we know the trends).  In terms of short and long terms futures, we want to get our door dweller to take that one step into the kitchen, so that we can essentially rush behind them and slam the door shut (yeah, yeah, I know… Ponzi scheme *cringes*, but hey at least we give them a naked men in their kitchen, more than Madoff did.)  Scurrying on…

Let’s ponder an example or two of our keen intellects while examining the choices we, the authors, make and avoid (i.e. shove our smarts in those critics’ faces)….

So, who’s at the kitchen door and what do we do about it?  Here are some possibilities:

a) If there’s a romance aficionado at the door, we have the man stand up to reveal a bow tied around his manhood while wearing a “come hither and let me woo you” look on his brazenly handsome face.  A dusk colored bedroom or a deserted beach magically appears stage right.  Violinist optional, but usually annoying.

b) If there’s a fan of erotica at the door, we have the man toss the table aside to reveal a woman on her knees shining up his family jewels.  His buddies in leather harnesses await their turn with both parties stage right.  Dungeon master optional, but suggested.

c) If there’s a paramour of the paranormal at the door, we have the man bear his luscious fangs before leaping over the table and initiating our door dweller to his dark side.  Werewolves morph from man to beast stage right.  Full moon required.

d) If there’s your basic horror fan at the door, we have the man bear his ungodly fangs before hurling his evil self over the table brandishing a chain saw in one hand and a pentagram in the other.  Priest or kick-ass girlfriend/boyfriend enter stage right.  Blood or psychological dismemberment not only required but eagerly expected.

e) Finally, if there’s a literary guru at the door… grab the naked man and run, stage right, left, who the hell cares! Let the ghosts of Hemingway and Dickins work this mess out.  You’ve got a naked man to enjoy.

Audience: the perpetual souls at our kitchen doors.  Invite them in, feed them well and they will come again.

            In a straight-back wooden chair sits a naked man at your kitchen table.  What do you do?

Read on.