How I Became a Sex Writer – And What You’re Missing

Sexy Einstein 1

When I was in pre-school, I was dead-set on becoming a garbage man. It seemed like a glamorous job. They operated giant Tonka trucks. Received free cookies during the holidays, so this was certainly not a bad gig. However, that was not to be my destiny. My true calling was to rate dating websites, Kama Sutra positions, and report on which lubricants leave the least residue on your sensitive parts.

A sex journalist is one of the safest methods of sex exploration. Pornography may be less dangerous than prostitution. A sex researcher may be more respected than a porn star. However, sitting back and enjoying the show from the comfort of your own desk and chair has its advantages. Sex journalism isn’t exactly basket weaving, so it does take more than just liking sex to make it a career. It is both a passion and an art form. I don’t think there are many writers who plan on writing about sex as a job. It is something that just kind of falls into our lap (pardon the pun). So, how was it that I ended up here? Well, before I can answer that, I should probably explain what it is we do, and why we do it?

Who is a Sex Writer?

A sex journalist is in many ways the podiatrist of the media. They may go to the same schools, and learn about the same nouns, verbs, and semi-colons. However, at the end of the day, they are not reporting on political scandals and cancer research, but sexual dysfunction and condom surveys. We are not often thought among the same esteem as our other distinguished colleagues. The sex journalist must ride the line between science and titillation. To write about sex, is to share a very intimate part of yourself. We must be willing to take critique along with praise, and open ourselves to the position of both student and teacher. Sex is after all a very personal experience, but somebody has to break the ice, and that’s where we come in.

Sexy Einstein

What’s in it for Us?

How many plastic surgeons have you ever seen that looked like they just had a dump truck drop a load of ugly dumplings on their head? There are probably a few, but not too many. Now, how many sex therapists/sex journalists do you think are living a non-fulfilling sex life? Most certainly a couple, but if there is one thing we actually have a chance at being successful at, it is sex. We may fail at interpreting sign language, wearing two of the same color socks, and paying the bills on time. However, put us in a dark room with a pack of Marlboro’s, and at least one other person, and we’ll come out with a grin, a lit cigarette, and one hell of a story to write about!

The Making of a Sex Writer

I had your typical crushes on the various female stars in grade school, such as Pat Benatar, Olivia Newton John, and Bo Derek. However, as unattainable as these choice specimens seemed, I settled for the attention of a few young women around my neighborhood. Since my neighborhood was rather Y chromosome deficient, my parents never thought much about it. We’d play house, G.I. Joe, tic-tac-toe… and Truth or Dare. As the cliché goes, most of the action took place around the back of an old tool shed. We’d head out there and dare each other to do such things as eat dog food, stick dandelions up our nose, and show each other our private parts. I was never satisfied with a quick peek. I would bring out my Spiderman flashlight for such occasions. Spidey and I inspected a lot of female anatomy during those early summer breaks.

In college, I studied English, Psychology, Theater, and Natural Sciences, with an emphasis on everything and anything sex related. I left college and went on to date a sex therapist who was 20 years my senior. If you ever want to learn about intimacy, a man in his prime (18-24) combined with a woman in hers (40-46) is a great sex education. I still get an overwhelming urge to run around in my underwear every time I pass an unoccupied tool shed. Perhaps in fifty years, Spidey and I can reunite in an assisted-living facility, where we’ll spend the remainder of my days playing a modified version to the classic, (Can You Remember the) Truth or… (I) Dare (You to Look).

About Doc Hollandaise

Lover, fighter, and bona fide sex expert.



About Doc Hollandaise

Lover, fighter, and bona fide sex expert.