Summer reissue: I’d always believed it doesn’t matter what you’re reading, as long as you’re doing it. So why was I initially so ashamed of consuming smutty books?

First published on April 23, 2023.

I was teaching a workshop at a writers retreat recently when one of the participants asked me, “Would you say that smut is your slam dunk?” This sentence sounds absolutely bonkers out of context, so let me rewind for you and let you know how it came about. 

I’ve always been a reader. Apparently I could already read when I started primary school, where I then spent years joining the older classes when it came time for reading. After school I’d go to the library and stock up on books each day before catching the bus home. I worked my way through the catalogues of Roald Dahl, Maurice Gee, Judy Blume, Paul Jennings and Ann M. Martin. At home I scoured our ample bookshelves, taking in Noel Streatfeild, Uncle Arthur’s Bedtime Stories, illustrated children’s encyclopaedias, and memorising multiple poems from AA Milne’s The World of Christopher Robin. 

I read my way through high school then headed to university to study English Literature, where I discovered and developed a love for New Zealand, Māori and Pacific literatures. I read poetry and non-fiction, literary fiction and chick lit, biographies, science writing, nature writing, graphic novels. I’ve always been firmly in the camp that reading is reading, and it doesn’t matter what you’re reading, as long as you’re doing it. I’ve learned just as much, and more importantly gained just as much enjoyment, reading one of my kid’s middle grade graphic novels as I have reading a critically acclaimed Booker winner. 

But then I started to gamify my reading, setting myself annual reading goals and tracking the books I finished. In 2021 I read a total of 147 books, including approximately 40 titles that I was judging for the Acorn Prize for Fiction for the 2022 Ockham New Zealand Book Awards. This was a whole new level of reading, giving each book the critical attention it deserved, then discussing the merits of a short story collection vs a work of autofiction or a historical romance vs a contemporary satire with my fellow judges. It was an incredibly rewarding and exhausting task. And when it was over, I found I could no longer read. I’d overindulged, and a lifelong habit was suddenly out of my reach. 

Months later, doomscrolling TikTok one night, I came across an intriguing post. In just a couple of sentences, a scene was described from a Why Choose series (formerly known as reverse harem, meaning one woman + multiple men). These kind of TikToks are like teaser trailers for books, and they can be damn effective. I was interested enough (OK, let’s stop beating around the bush here, I had the horn) that I bought the series immediately and set about reading one of the most ridiculous, and ridiculously hot, pieces of literature I’d ever come across.

I’d hide my phone on the bus, huddled into myself in a paranoid cocoon as I read, convinced my fellow public transport users would see what I was reading and scoff. I didn’t tell any of my friends about the series, and again, when I followed up with yet another Why Choose Series, I kept it a secret. My “reading’s reading” mantra had found its limit.

But Why Choose wasn’t doing it for me. The storylines were beyond even daytime soap levels of wacky, and I couldn’t believe that with four men and one woman sharing a bed on the regular things could possibly stay as heterosexual as the books would have you believe. (Pro tip: I’ve since learned that if you want a little MM (male/male) or MMM action in your Why Choose, use the search term ‘Crossed Swords’. Makes perfect sense.) Anyway, I wanted to keep reading this brainless yet thrilling smut, but hadn’t quite found my niche yet. 

That’s when I came across A Forbidden Rumspringa. The cover image is of a young man standing in a field, shown from behind as he gazes into the distance at another young man standing by a horse drawn cart. The tagline read “When two young Amish men find love, will they risk losing everything?” I was sold. And this time, I felt this purchase was so ridiculous that I had to share it with my friends: “I’m always saying that people should never be ashamed of what they read, that bottom line is reading’s reading, but even I’m a little ashamed to have purchased this for Kindle.” 

But this was before I read it. After reading A Forbidden Rumspringa, the story of Isaac and David living in an Amish community in Minnesota, my shame about reading smut disappeared entirely. This book was good! The characters were endearing and loveable and complex. I learned so much about Amish life and culture that I didn’t know before. (To be fair, the miniscule amount of Amish knowledge I had before A Forbidden Rumspinga came entirely from watching the Harrison Ford thriller Witness in the 80s.)

A Forbidden Rumspringa was an engaging, beautiful and tense story. I was thrilled to discover it was the first in a trilogy. I devoured the follow ups, and a fourth novella in the series, and by that stage the algorithm had me pegged (no pun intended) as a dedicated MM smut reader. 

I purchased A Forbidden Rumspringa in August 2022. Since then I have worked my way through no less than 55 smut titles. Most of them have been MM (or MMM) due to the algorithm, but there have been some hetero reads in there too. I’ve learned about the popular genres in the smut world. Sport is a big one. I’ve read about ice hockey players and lacrosse players, American footballers, swimmers and gymnasts. There are plenty of books about ranchers (gay cowboys are A Whole Thing, and not just in the smut universe). Motorcycle mechanics get plenty of attention. There’s historical smut, though in the one pirate smut book I read I couldn’t get past the fact that they were very much unwashed, and that wasn’t particularly sexy to me. There’s the kink crowd, with plenty of daddies, littles, lingerie wearers and more that I won’t go into here. And like the dirty (in a bad way) pirates, there’s just nothing I find sexy about age play. But each to their own! 

And while I’m not into age play for myself, reading about relationships with clear power dynamics, and having the reasons for these explained, was incredibly enlightening. When I read smut, I’m doing it as a form of escapism, but, like with watching romantic movies or reading regular romance novels, there’s an element of idealism there that’s being applied to real life. When I’m reading about the reasons why someone might want their romantic/sexual relationship to be a place where they can escape the pressures of the world, feel safe enough to switch off and know that they will be entirely taken care of by their partner, I can understand that. When I read about the satisfaction someone might get from taking on a caretaker role in their relationship, I can understand that. They manage the delicate balance between caring for someone and wanting to be taken care of. And in these books full of idealised relationships, communication is happening all over the place. Yes, they are fucking like bunny rabbits, but they are also talking. They talk about their needs and wants and dreams. They set boundaries in their relationships, and have goals for themselves and each other, and they support each other to go after them. In the smut I read, enthusiastic consent is ALWAYS sought, and it is sexy af. 

In smutworld rich people have names like Charlemagne Hastings, Charles Preston Carmichael and Bentley Emerson Fox. They aren’t subtle. The men are called Levi and Logan, Ty, Aiden, Wyatt, Dex and Ash. Masculine names that are also young and cool. The women in smut have ethereal, nature-based names, more sexy sprite than femme fairy. Names like River, Briar and Sierra. There’s a lot of Henley wearing happening. I’m pretty sure I’ve read about men wearing Henleys in smut more than I’ve seen men wearing Henleys in real life. 

Many readers and reviewers have noted that MM smut is predominantly written by women, which raises questions of appropriation or fetishisation. There is valid criticism about whether a woman can accurately portray a gay relationship or the life experiences of gay men. I’ve pondered this for myself, why I have a preference for MM smut above any other kind I’ve read, and I think I’ve figured it out. There’s no misogyny. The men in these books treat women with respect. They may not want to sleep with them, but they love the women in their lives. They stand up for them. That’s damn sexy. And it’s keeping me reading.

Getting back to slam dunks now. If you can, track down a copy of Coco Solid’s incredibly genius Horoeka Reading Grant essay “When floral muzzles didn’t come in my sinus-size I chose used basketball shorts”. In all the reading in all the genres I’ve done over the decades, it’s up there as one of my all time faves. In it, Coco discusses her unique research methodology, and questions who gets to name things “literature”. She talks about taking inspiration from Orlando Magic’s Aaron Gordon at the NBA Slam Dunk Contest. “I hadn’t written poetry or prose for almost a year until I saw that dunk,” she writes.

I set this essay as recommended reading for the workshops I taught. The participants knew I’ve been reading smut because I told them. I’m no longer ashamed. I’m a smut evangelist these days. So when one of them asked me if smut was my slam dunk, after recovering from the shock of such lyrical beauty in question form, I was able to answer yes. And now I’m off to find some NBA smut.