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WRITING
SEXUAL
HEALING
An Interview with Jill Nelson
To this point, you've made your reputation
writing nonfiction. Why a novel?
I love writing nonfiction, but life is about
challenges, and writing a novel has definitely been a challenge.
This has been an opportunity for me to stretch myself as a
writer in ways I haven't since college, when I wrote mainly
fiction and thought journalism was something I'd do for a few
years until I wrote a great African American novel. Fiction is
also a way to reach a broader audience. Women read more fiction
than nonfiction, and since I see my first audience as women, a
novel was just the logical and exciting next step in my career.
What was the genesis of this particular
story?
Several
years ago in conversation, a friend was explaining to me why
she'd "retired" from dating. Then she said, "What
black women need is a brothel for women." Her words stuck
in my mind, and I called her and told her I wanted to use her
comment as the framework for a novel. That was fine with her, as
long as I dedicated the book to her, which I have.
Acey
and Lydia, my protagonists, are like so many women I know who
are best friends. They're very different in some ways—Lydia's
a hedonist while Acey's steeped in traditional notions about
relationships—yet they are alike in their ambition, their
sexual desires and needs, and their willingness to overcome fear
and fight for what they believe in. And they are winners, which
was very important to me; literature needs more smart,
ambitious, sexy, wild women who don't get saddled and tamed.
How do you see this new book as building
on your earlier titles?
My
work is always about identity and empowerment, and I see Sexual
Healing as part of that continuum. Many of the issues
discussed in Volunteer Slavery and Straight, No Chaser
are echoed in Sexual Healing in fictional form,
particularly women's struggle to self-define and not be limited
or oppressed by the expectations of others. I'm fascinated by
the ways people go about unearthing, defining, and owning our
true selves in what are often adverse conditions. Sexual
Healing examines those themes, using both business and
sexuality as prisms through which to look at issues of identity
and ownership.
How do you think readers will react to the
way you write about women's experience of sex? Some of the
scenes in the book are very explicit.
I
think women will recognize parts of themselves, their mothers,
daughters, sisters, and friends, not to mention the men in their
lives—from Daddy to their minister to their man—and say
Amen. I think men will learn a lot about women's sexuality
through this book, and that's always good. Some people may be
scandalized, but that's OK, too. The truth is sometimes so
surprising we are taken aback. That's cool, as long as we can
move forward and see the value in what has been revealed. And I
dare anyone to read Sexual Healing and not laugh out
loud.
As for
being explicit, the sex act itself is inherently explicit—or
at least, good sex usually is. I wanted to write about women's
sexual pleasure stripped down to its essence, and avoid the
soft-focus, gauzy, style of writing about sex. Sexual Healing
is about two women's efforts to own their selves, their
business, and their sexuality. In order to write this story, I
had to own all that stuff too, including the sex.
This
meant I had to push the censors, both my own and those of the
larger society, off my shoulders. The mandate of A Sister's Spa
is to give women pleasure on their own terms, so it was
important to be very clear about what women see as pleasurable.
I read a great deal, talked to many women, remembered,
experimented, and, yes, fantasized in order to write the
explicit sections. I wanted those sections to be both a
compelling read and physically arousing, to turn the reader on
intellectually and physically.
Agate
Publishers 1501 Madison St. Evanston, IL 60202
(847) 363-1830 |