Romantic genres don't own a monopoly on spice. Here's why.
- Allie Harper

- Jul 17
- 3 min read
There's debate about whether spicy scenes belong in genres outside of anything romantic. I'm all for readers having preferences, even in the romance genre—no spice, closed door, smut turned all the way up to eleven.
In 1993, The Literary Review launched its "Bad Sex in Fiction Award," deeming itself judge and executionor of "the worst description of a sex scene in a novel." (You can read about The Literary Review here.) The annual award was cancelled in 2019, but its blatant aim was to "draw attention to the crude, tasteless, often perfunctory use of redundant passages of sexual description in the modern novel, and to discourage it."

Basically, it aimed to shame writers, and a quick search will tell you that the judges of this spiteful award were particularly blind to what led these writers to write in such a voice that drew The Literarly Review to annoint itself judge, jury, and executioner of books based on the one passage given to them. Yes, you read that right—the judges were only given the passages without any context from the book or the name of the author.
A few years ago when I had first tried my hand at writing spice, I asked on social media how writers felt about family members reading spicy scenes they'd written. Apparently the point of the question eluded a few people, as I had one writer flat out tell me that sex doesn't belong in mysteries (followed by shoving unsolicited "advice" down my throat about a genre they didn't read or write).
I beg to differ.
Despite its history of being a "guilty pleasure" that people think should be shamed, intimacy in books can be a great way to show character relationships, develop characters themselves, and even humanize a character.
Each of my books aren't off-the-charts with sex scenes, but it is present. Ever since having the idea for the first book, When Snapdragons Whisper, I knew I wanted to humanize the characters as much as possible. I wanted them to feel real, to feel relatable, because sometimes being stuck in your own head can be an incredibly lonely curse.
In When Marigolds Rage, the third book of my Nancy Drew-meets-Pretty Girls by Karin Slaughter murder mystery series, Kylie struggles with her body image during spicy scenes with her husband:
The extra weight clung to her in the same way the humidity did, heavy and unrelenting, a constant reminder of their lost future. She was self conscious of the curves and scars that hadn’t been there before. Adam, however, didn’t mind one bit. If anything, his hands lingered longer, his grip firmer, his kisses deeper.
I will be honest: Writing about her struggles with how she sees herself (especially during sex), how her hysterectomy changed the trajectory of their life together, was cathartic for me. She watches her best friend end up with the life she wanted. She's uncomfortable in her own skin, even around her husband who loves her no matter what. The vulnerability found in sexual encounters in fiction can reveal a great deal about a character.
All that aside, books teach us a lot about life in general, and sex in literature is no different. Something like 82% of people who consume sexually explicit fiction are women, and it's no different that sex education is lacking in the United States. Fiction can teach us a lot about ourselves, what we like, what we don't like. It also teaches us empathy, how to feel for people other than ourselves.
And knowledge can be very empowering.
There's also so much more to sex in literature than pleasure. We see themes of guilt, of power struggles, and even societal struggles. Sure, there are books purely for erotica, but there are books in which sexual scenes serve a purpose.
All of my books contain spicy scenes. Sex. Smut. Way back when in the early days of the internet, when we called it "lemon" in the fanfiction community. Whatever you want to call it, everyone enjoys different levels of spice in their books. Whether you enjoy it or hate it, there's no reason to force others to take your side. Don't like it? Don't read books with it. Love it? Great, but don't shame people who are uncomfortable.
In the end, we all have our preferences. We can learn a lot from books, and what an author writes doesn't necessarily mean they condone what's happening in their books. Writers aim to explore humanizing themes. Some purely write for themselves. But can we agree that books shouldn't be banned?



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