So You Want to Write About Sex?

by Lisa Jahn-Clough

Of course, who wouldn’t? Teens read it, teens do it, and everyone is interested in it. And then there’s always the chance your book will be challenged or, if you’re really lucky, banned, or so we authors tell ourselves.

I’d been writing and illustrating picture books for ten years before my first YA novel Country Girl/City Girl was published in 2004, followed three years later by a second, Me, Penelope. My picture books are “sweet” realistic encounters between kids (or trolls or dogs) with themes of longing, loneliness, and a search for connection.  They have humor, conflict, a dark, sad page, and a moment of joy at the end. No one has ever complained about them. What a difference with the reaction my YA novels have garnered. They are also sweet, realistic encounters between kids (teenage girls in both cases) with themes of longing, loneliness, and a search for connection.

Phoebe, the main character in Country Girl/City Girl (coined by a friend as my “lesbians on the farm” novel) is an introverted thirteen year-old who may have an attraction to the suave city girl who comes to stay one summer. In one scene they practice kissing. The scene is not very explicit. Some readers don’t even “get” the lesbian undertones, even though at the end of the kiss Phoebe is confused about her feelings. The experience makes her think, but there is no sex in this novel (save for the mention of the goats mating).

Penelope, the protagonist in Me, Penelope (my “heterosexual” novel) is sixteen, eager to leave home, go to college, and figure out the difference between sex and love. She has a few experiences with boys (three actually), some a bit more graphic than others. She mentions human anatomy; she touches a penis or two. She teeters on the edge of dangerous situations, but each time ends up making the wiser decision. She finds love and (healthy) sex in the end. I like it when my characters grapple with wrong choices, but figure out a better choice—and when I say better, I mean a better choice for them, not necessarily for all. This is what, I hope, gets readers to think: “Would I make the same choice as Penelope or Phoebe? If not, what would I do in the situation? What is the best choice for me?”

Both novels have experienced some forms of outrage and censorship. I’ve received hate mail from a mother calling me an, “over-educated, ultra liberal lesbian whose mission it is to influence young girls!”  (for Country Girl, City Girl). Fox News called me an “over-sexed author who is compelled to add explicit and shocking details.” (for Me, Penelope). My books have been placed in the “mature section” of school libraries and in some have been removed altogether.

I’d always imagined what an honor it would be to have a banned book. I am in most excellent company with such authors as Richard Peck, Judy Blume, JD Salinger, Laurie Halse Anderson, Melvin Burgess, Ellen Hopkins, Francesca Lia Block, John Green, Lois Lowry and on and on….). After all, any publicity is good publicity, right? It is nice to know that someone is actually reading my books, even if only for the “dirty” parts. The Florida librarian who rallied, albeit unsuccessfully, for Me, Penelope said there’d been a lot of local sales. 

But what surprised me was how sad and angry both experiences made me. I did not and do not set out to write books to offend people. Or do I? I get very close to my characters. They suffer in a confusing world, they try their best, and in the end they DO something. I love them for that. What saddens me is that someone who may actually want to read one of my books is suddenly told they can’t. I, perhaps like many authors, assume that no one ever reads my books, so to find out someone actually does and then has it taken away—well, that seems cruel. For crying out loud, someone is reading—isn’t that cause for celebration? I think about the twelve-year-old girl whose mother wrote me to say that she no longer leaves her daughter alone with her friends for fear they may practice kissing as Phoebe and Melita do, the same mother who checks what her daughter is wearing since she’s taken to dressing in a sheer shirt (something that my character has worn). At once I am flattered that this girl wants to emulate something I created. But at the same time my heart goes out to her. She just wants to read.

There is something almost humorous about someone taking offense to my tame little sex scenes, especially when compared to so many others much more explicit. Equally interesting (and horrifying) is that the Fox TV segment in Orlando emphasized that what people objected to most was not that Penelope has sex, but that she wants sex. In this case a thirteen year old checked out Me, Penelope from the library. Her father saw her reading it and read a few passages. He took it to the school board and the president agreed to have it removed. There was a flurry of action—reports in local newspapers, and then the segment on Fox. It was the first time anyone has made such a public fuss over something I’ve written. Who knew that a work of fiction could cause so much controversy—but isn’t that what it’s all about?

But be careful. Never let a reporter or anyone else back you into defending the work. It is not about the work, but something much bigger. I thought I knew this—I mean, it’s obvious isn’t it? But lo and behold the first reporter that called from Florida asked me if I’d considered how my books would affect readers? Well, duh. She questioned specific scenes. Was I worried that if Penelope had sex some other teen would want sex? I flubbed. I stumbled. I started defending my book: “It’s the character. I’m being true to Penelope, blah, blah, blah. She wants sex—it doesn’t mean everyone does…but teens want to read about sex! I want to write about it!” Needless to say, I sounded like an idiot in the paper.

Will my books actually influence someone to think about their choices and try to live an honest life? I hadn’t thought about that. I write them to be real, not real for everyone, but real for my characters. In truth, I rarely thought of audience. But I do now. I think of the twelve–year old dressing like Melita. I think of the thirteen-year old whose father pried Me, Penelope out of her hands. What if these girls do become over-educated, ultra-liberal, sexually active people? Do I want to influence them? Well, sure, I want each girl to make the best choice she can and be true to herself. Even without my book, they’d (hopefully) find other books. I think about the adults. I don’t want to step on any parents’ choice in how they raise their children; however, I am fighting a losing battle when it comes to those who oppose free-thinking. They have a right not to like my books. But their daughters liked them! At the very least these girls ought to be given a safe environment to explore all ideas and situations—and what safer environment than literature?

I am opinionated. I am educated and liberal (however, not in excess on either account, and I’m not even a lesbian, but it’s a compliment that someone finds my writing so authentic). I believe in choices and knowledge. What appeals to me about writing for teens is just how much respect I have for them as deep thinkers—and I want them to continue to grapple with figuring out this whole life thing well into old age. These girls are the teens I write for—the ones who want to read my books no matter what adults say. And I do hope to influence my readers! Damn it.