Romance is the number one selling genre at the moment, a long-term trend unlikely to change any time soon—if ever—because love, belonging, and connection are basic human needs. And though in our culture we are saturated with sex, I believe we are starved of authentic love. So we seek it. It’s primal, instinctive, necessary.

Hence the current debate about sex, commonly referred to as ‘spice’ or ‘smut’, in books— particularly YA books. I don’t want to get embroiled in mud-slinging, but I do think I owe it to potential readers to be honest and forthright about what they can expect from me as an author. I hope to bring a sensitive voice to this topic, though, and it is not my intention to alienate anyone in any way. So, dear reader, here is where I come down on this issue, and why. 

First off, I simply don’t like reading spice, so therefore it makes sense that I don’t like writing it—but I think I can understand why others do, without necessarily agreeing with them. It’s about that universal human need for love I was talking about earlier. We crave it. I crave it. It’s buried so deep in our psyches that we feel empty and unfulfilled without it, without even necessarily understanding why. But deep, authentic, soul-oneing love is so rare. Perhaps rarer than it’s ever been. 

And I think, perhaps, as a culture, we’ve forgotten what it actually looks like, and so latch onto the finger that points to it—sex. Because it’s beautiful. It’s amazing. Mysterious, yet tangible. An enigma, like the sun, that cannot be gazed upon directly—even at its glorious dawning or smouldering repose—but which provides light and warmth and life. 

And that’s the trouble. What we are seeing is not the whole thing, but only one—quite inadequate—part.

I once read a quote—and I wish I could remember who said it so I could give proper attribution, but I can’t, so I apologise—that porn is problematic not because it shows too much, but because it shows too little. I was floored by that statement. It resonated so deeply with me. Because in porn, all we see is a body, stripped of its mind and heart and soul—its humanity. And the viewer is robbed of having the experience of an authentic connection. It is the most tragic of ironies.

That’s kind of how I feel about (most) spice. That it robs the reader of the whole, giving only the part. Inciting the feelings of love, without the substance of it. And that’s tragic.

There is only one sex scene I’ve ever read that I actually enjoyed, and one of the major reasons was that it barely mentioned body parts. It was also absolutely crucial to the plot, almost ending in disaster, and set up events that would have serious consequences later on, but that wouldn't have been obvious or as impactful if the scene had been closed door. The author was Janny Wurts, and the scene occurred somewhere around the middle of The Wars of Light and Shadow series.

In this scene, the language was lush and powerful, but the description was almost entirely internal. The souls of the two people involved had become one long before their bodies did, and the action was so transcendent, I almost forgot what was physically happening. One of the aspects I enjoyed the most, was that the refrain sung throughout the entire scene was how beautiful the other’s soul was, how much care they wanted to take of the other, and how much the lovers wanted to explore the depths of the other’s being, not their body. Their focus was entirely on what they could give, not what they, themselves, wanted, and how they desired that the other person be completely confident of their respect, and know that they were utterly safe. 

That scene stirred longings in me, every bit as much as a more graphic scene would have, but they were of a completely different order. And I wonder if, deep down, that’s what spice lovers really crave? I can’t know for sure, of course—but I do know that we as humans were made to give and receive love. Real, authentic love. 

So that’s what I will aim for. And I don’t need spice to deliver it. There are plenty of awesome books that don’t. Take Brandon Sanderson’s work for instance. Not a lick of spice, but oh my gosh does he know how to make a person FEEL. 

So know this: romance is a major subplot in my work-in-progress, and is likely to play an important part in future novels too. I adore that tingly feeling, the anticipation of a kiss, the crazy explosive synergy of two hearts bonding. That is the experience I want to give my readers, so that they become unsatisfied with anything less than absolute authenticity. My great hope is that eros becomes a little glimpse of the divine, the infinite, the eternal—not a gorgeous package with nothing inside.