Review: Erotica Review Blogs

I thought it would be fun to review a few of my favorite e-book erotica review blogs. These blogs are all top-flight, single-person efforts. They each have a distinct character, tone--and charm.

Mrs. Giggles: This reviewer is irreverent and often hysterically funny. Reading her is like getting the low-down on erotic and romance books from your best, very well-read, friend. She reviews from the gut. Occasionally she'll review BDSM stories, and though she claims it's not her thing, her instincts are spot-on. Here's a taste of Mrs. Giggles:

Plot? Story? Character development? All of these seem secondary to the author's agenda here: the objectification, deification, and eroticization of the Alpha Male Asshole.

Book Utopia: I've mentioned Utopia Mom in my blog before. I adore her reviews. She is the most serious and intellectual of the bunch. Her stylish and nearly scientific analyses are a joy to read. She is in no way a snob. She reviews offerings from the obscure indy presses, as well as the high and mighty. She's both fearless and tactful. According to Erecsite (my go-to blog for erotica electronic publishing industry news), Utopia Mom is under-appreciated. Not by me. Not by a long shot.

Dear Author: The iconic Dear Author site is actually a group effort. Joan/SarahF is the only one who reviews BSDM, so I'm going to single her out. I'm not sure why she has a slash name, because I believe she is a single person. Joan/SarahF's reviews of BDSM stories are fascinating: she has a profound understanding of the emotional, physical and technical aspects of the practices. Reading her is like hanging out with a stern SSC Dungeon Mistress--who has a day job as literature professor. She'll call out writers of the BDSM genre when they fail, and swat them with her verbal flogger.

Teddy Pig: Teddy Pig (can I call you Teddy?) rarely reviews books, unfortunately. His focus is on e-book readers and the like. When he does review a book, it's a treat: he offers a highly personal perspective on BDSM and gay fiction. Teddy Pig's reviews are sincere, a little cranky, and sometimes in verse. Happily, he's perfectly willing to review older books. Here's a snippet of his review of the best book on gay trapeze artists ever written, published in 1979:

The Catch Trap in my opinion is more than just the average gay or even straight epic historical romantic codpiece ripper. 
Sure there is sex and heartache and drama and lots of heavy sighs and a couple of very violent moments but they are not the best part. 
There are distinct gay life lessons, real valid messages falling out of these pages even though it is written by an obviously intelligent but none the less straight woman.

What is Subspace?

Subspace is the BDSM term for the special state caused by pain and other strong sensations. It's not a feeling of great joy or exhilaration, like a roller coaster ride; it isn't even a traditional high. Subspace is a trance: floating, utter calm, peace and tranquility. Hormones, primarily the natural painkillers called endorphins, are thought to induce it.

BDSM fiction sometimes confuses subspace with a sub's breathless pleasure of yielding, or the gentle contentment of worship. Those feelings are legit and marvelous, but they aren't subspace. A sub can't get subspace-worthy endorphins from being ordered about by a strong Dominant.

Without pain or physical strain, there's no subspace.

There's a good reason for the confusion. The word "subspace" is just plain bad. The word should be "bottomspace". I suppose some punster came up with the word "subspace" as tribute to Star Trek. Subspace is a method of communication in the Star Trek universe. Ironically, subspace in the BDSM world precludes communication. Why? Subspace might be described as a mystical union with the infinite. At that point a sub (or bottom) has no real interest in the person who got them there.

There was some hubbub on the Dear Author and teddypig blogs regarding the correct way to write BDSM--subspace included. One popular BDSM romance author objects to the very concept of the "right" way to write BDSM. She says there are as many types of BDSM as there are kinds of people--so anything goes. As proof, the author tells us she personally has spoken to a sub who experienced "subspace" after one glance from her Dominant.

Her argument is weak.

BDSM has universal definitions. Just because a BDSM practioner describes himself as a "Dominate" (as so many do), rather than a "Dominant", doesn't magically transform "Dominate" into the correct noun. A better excuse for a writer hijacking a BDSM word is artistic license. But I suspect authors often dilute the concept of subspace because the S and M roots of the trance isn't romantic enough. Fine and good. But a creative person should be able to come up with another name for sexual thrills or utter devotion.

For my fictional take on subspace, read My One.