I guess it's not a secret anymore, because I wrote about it for Salon! Read my essay "I'm a sex writer with a secret shame - hoarding" and if you like it, please, um, like it on Facebook if you do that sort of thing and/or pass it on to someone who might be interested. And please note that is an over two-year-old photo and my apartment is not "neat" but is in much better shape these days, but there's still a long way to go.
This is the piece I had it in my calendar to follow up on a month after submitting and turns out they were interested. I’m glad…and a little nervous. My editor, Sarah Hepola, helped me see the big connection between sex writing and hoarding, which was something I’d tacked on at the end. I think it hadn’t occurred to me sooner because sex writing is such an everyday, literally every day, part of my life that it doesn’t seem odd or unusual anymore. I’m very honored to be published at a site I’ve been reading for years and years, and inspired to keep writing about the challenging things, with Adair Lara’s words from Naked, Drunk and Writing in my head. Here’s the beginning:
Over the past decade as a writer specializing in sex, I've dished about my erotic escapades, from threesomes to kinky parties to a date gone wrong with a Top Chef. I've posed with a freshly spanked bottom for a sex blogger calendar, masturbated on HBO's "Real Sex" and edited books like "Best Bondage Erotica 2011." Writing about my intimate life has never felt awkward. I didn't grow up with shame around sex and didn't carry any of it into adulthood. Divulging those stories, as well as fictionalizing fantasies about bukkake or webcam exhibitionism, has been a way to understand and come to terms with my desires. Because I've been so open, though, some people think I have no skeletons in my closet. And I do -- or rather, I would if the two-bedroom Brooklyn, N.Y., apartment I've lived in for over 11 years had any closets.
Read the whole thing