Bye-bye, Vixen

I’ve been trying to write the last installment of my “V for Vixen” column for the Hour. Basically, the deal is that they want to put two shorter columns in the space my column currently occupies. I’m not being laid off, exactly, as I was offered the opportunity to pitch another shorter version of the column (or an entirely different column) for one of those spaces, but I felt it was time to move on. I’ve been writing Vixen since October of 2007, and while I am still definitely interested in continuing to write about sex, love and relationships, I think I do need a different venue for those explorations.

I also need a break. I’m burnt out, and I feel like the things I’ve been writing lately haven’t been connecting with audiences very well. That’s probably because they’re not quite the things I’ve been wanting to write. How do you write about sex without being purely titillating? How do you write about sex in an intellectual way, without alienating over 90% of your readers? How do you share personal stories without over-sharing? What’s the point of sharing personal stories, anyway, if the only comment you receive is from some asshole who just wants to tear you down and make you feel bad about having written anything to begin with?

These are all challenges, not just for sex columnists, but for writers of all kinds. But I do think that sex writers are more easily pigeonholed than others, and that’s another source of frustration. Just because I write about sex does not mean I’m horny, easy, cheap, or morally bankrupt. It doesn’t mean I am a bad person, or that I was abused as a child. It doesn’t mean that I’m a sex worker, or that I want to fuck you. It doesn’t mean anything, really, except that it’s a subject I like to write about. Sometimes it’s fictional, sometimes it’s factual, but regardless, it’s me.

I can’t really escape the fact that I write about sex, that I’ve written about sex, that I will in all likelihood continue to write about sex. If that means people don’t want to hire me, so be it. I’ll go work somewhere else. And maybe that’s a good idea anyway, because writing about nothing but sex gets pretty old pretty quickly. It’s interesting, but I am also easily bored by routine; I like learning new things and finding new topics of interest.

So right now I am applying to get into graduate school, because I’d really like to write a novel. I have been starting and stopping novels for years, ever since I did my first NaNoWriMo, and I’m really bummed that I missed this year’s monthly writing marathon. I would like to write a novel, to edit a novel, to really and truly finish a novel, and see it go to print. If I get into this MFA program, that’s the goal. So I’ve got to finish up my writing samples and have those in by December 15.

I am still trying to find the right words for my last Vixen piece, because even though it’s kind of an ending, it’s also just the beginning. I don’t know where I will be writing, professionally, for the next little while, but I’ve still got Black Heart for all my filth and perversions. Check it out, if you haven’t already, and let me know what you think.

In the meantime, my last Vixen column is slated to run on December 17. Farewell, Vixen. It’s been swell.