Wild
Girls, Wild Nights: True Lesbian Sex Stories
Edited
by Sacchi Green
Cleis
Press, 2013
How
does one evaluate a collection subtitled “True Lesbian Sex
Stories”?
Originality
counts as one of my top criteria when reviewing fiction. A startling
premise, a setting or a conflict I haven't encountered in the past,
will immediately predispose me toward enjoying a story. Can this be
applied to real life tales, though? To a large extent, we don't
choose our experiences, although authors will clearly exercise
discretion in selecting the events to recount. Still, given the
fantasy-oriented nature of much erotica, the more creative and
unusual premises often tend to be the most implausible.
How
about
the
arousal
generated
by
the
stories?
This
is
a
highly
personal
criterion,
depending
as
it
does
on
one's
own
sexual
proclivities.
A
couple
of
tales
in
this
collection
definitely
pushed
my
buttons,
especially
“The
Insatiable
Travel
Itch”,
by
Evan
Mora,
which
brilliantly
exposes
the
narrator's
frustrated
fantasies,
and
“Delinquents”,
by
Catherine
Paulssen,
a
gorgeously
sensual
first-time
tale.
Given
my
usual
tastes,
one
might
have
expected
me
to
mention
some
of
the
kinkier
offerings,
such
as
Mia
Savage's
“Kat's
House”,
Danielle
Mignon's
“Are
You
My
Mommy?”
or
Cheyenne
Blue's
“Nurse
Joan”.
However,
I
have
no
experience
with
and
relatively
few
fantasies
about
F/F
dominance
and
submission,
so
these
titles
had
less
of
a
visceral
effect
on
me
than
I
would
have
guessed.
Writing
quality,
then?
No
problem
here.
With
one
or
two
exceptions,
the
offerings
in
Wild Girls, Wild Nights
are
as
well-crafted
as
I'd
expect
from
an
award-winning
editor
like
Sacchi
Green.
Vivid
descriptions,
believable
characters,
variety
in
subject
and
voice:
if
this
were
a
fiction
anthology,
I'd
have
no
reservations
about
giving
this
book
a
definite
thumbs
up.
But
therein lies the rub. For the most part, these tales read not like
true confessions, but like fiction. They have initial hooks, plot
arcs, conflict and resolution. Real world experience is messy,
confusing, and usually inconclusive. Ambiguity reigns. There's no
ending, happily-ever-after or other. These tales, however, are mostly
polished, self-aware, self-contained nuggets with a point and a
punch-line.
Of
course, this isn't all that surprising. Most erotic authors mine
their own sexual adventures in creating their fiction. One gets into
the habit of focusing on some details and glossing over others,
ramping up the heat and playing down discomfort or insecurity,
twisting the outcomes in directions that makes them more satisfying
for readers. I've certainly done this myself, in dozens of stories.
Then
there's the fact that perceptual experience is notoriously difficult
to recall accurately. It's generally not possible to give an accurate
account of past events without “filling in the blanks”, whether
consciously or not. When the experience in question occurred decades
ago (as is obviously the case for some of these authors), the
imagination-to-fact ratio increases dramatically.
When
I recall my first Sapphic experience now (after more than thirty
years), I remember only a few salient details. If I were to recount
this for a book, I'd have to recreate – or invent – almost all
the context. And then there would be the temptation to change the
outcome – the fact that this woman, a dear friend, and I have never
talked about that one night again. That doesn't make a good ending,
after all.
So
I don't fault the authors in this book for producing stories that
feel like – stories. However, that makes me admire the few authors
whose accounts really did feel more like “being there”.
“Higher
Learning”
by
Charlotte
Dare
fell
into
that
category.
I
liked
this
account
because
of
the
unconventional
relationship
between
an
older
woman
returning
to
college
and
a
much
younger
student
who
is
nevertheless
old
enough
to
know
what
she
wants
– and
what
she's
doing.
The
uncertainties
of
the
older
narrator
come
through
clearly
and
ring
true.
Every
woman,
after
a
certain
age,
wonders
how
she
could
possibly
be
viewed
as
desirable.
Most
of
all,
I
appreciated
the
fact
that
the
story
ends
with
a
question
mark.
The
two
women
pursue
separate
career
paths
in
different
states.
Neither
wants
to
end
the
relationship,
but
will
it
survive
the
stress
of
geographic
separation?
Ms.
Dare
leaves
us
to
wonder.
Another
stand-out for me was Catherine Henreid's “Odds”. This story, set
in Tel Aviv, has enough disasters in it that I can't help believe it.
The quirky and unpredictable encounter between the narrator and her
bisexual housemate, who is in some sense a total mystery, was both
intriguing and arousing.
I've
already mentioned “Delinquents”, about two girlfriends who
experiment with lesbian sex while their parents are away. I strongly
identified with the narrator's concerns about how this would alter
the relationship – naturally, given my personal experience.
Finally,
I have no doubts about the truth of Dawn McKay's “Hot Summer
Nights”, in which the author, a military medic in what is likely
Iraq, shares a single night of healing passion with an off-limits
officer. The sense of risk, of desperation, of sorrow, that permeates
this story make it one of the most intense in the volume.
“I'll
see you around,” she
said.
“Yeah.”
I knew I wouldn't.
So did she.
…
She
left as quietly as she had come, slipping from my tent in the middle
of a sandstorm.
I
have to reserve special mention for Allison Moon's “Foxy and the
Ridiculous Lesbian Orgy”. In terms of the activities it describes,
this tale is by far the wildest in the book, and certainly one of the
funniest. The events in the tale undoubtedly took place – because
the author staged them in order to have some content for a live
girl-on-girl storytelling event.
I
had no story to tell, but the flyers had gone out, and time was
short. I had no choice. For the sake of science – nay for the sake
of art, I had to take matters into my own hands. I had to throw a
Ridiculous Lesbian Orgy.
Now,
I know what you're thinking. If you construct the context for a
story, are you actually experiencing the story, or are just
experiencing yourself experiencing the story, thus negating the
veracity of the experience? If it's really happening but in an
artificial context, does it count as “true”? I'm a writer, these
are the things I think about.
I'm
an
author,
and
I
think
about
these
things
too.
Wild Girls, Wild Nights
is
a
bit
of
an
epistemological
puzzle,
all
the
way
around.
However,
if
your
main
interest
is
simply
in
reading
some
hot,
believable,
girl-on-girl
tales,
you
won't
be
disappointed.
