Sex and My Mum

Bluebeard’s Machine has been out since November 9th – it feels super unreal, and I’m so excited to see what people are saying about it. Writing sometimes feels like it takes place in a vacuum so reading reviews has me over the moon. Actually, the reviews are mostly positive, even the ones that point out issues or things they disliked. I almost like those more – an honest review makes my little heart pitter-patter with joy.

In other news, I had a good chat with a friend of my Mum’s about my book. Specifically, sex in my book.

My family is wacky and wild, but talking about sex is The Great Taboo. My brother and I grew up in a don’t-ask-don’t-tell environment. My parents aren’t prudes – heck, my Mum has initiated skinny dipping with my boyfriend around (slightly awkward) – but we just Don’t Talk About Sex.

I don’t know what other romance writers do, but when my book came out I told my parents where all the dirty parts were hidden and sternly told them to avert their eyes.

My Mum’s friend confirmed that my Mum read the book, and that she skipped the dirty parts. Apparently the process works both ways: I don’t want to hear about my parents’ sex lives and my parents don’t want to hear about mine, fictional or otherwise. This is a comfortable arrangement. Imagining your daughter doing the nasty is probably as scrub-your-brain-with-bleach inducing as imagining your parents going at it like rabbits.

Ugh. I wish I hadn’t typed that.


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