Sometimes the jokes write themselves…

I had to snort with laughter at a headline earlier this week:

‘Bad Sex in Fiction’ award canceled
because 2020 has ruined everything

The article claims:

Fictional bad sex is just too much for folks to handle in the hellish coronavirus pandemic-stricken year of 2020.

That’s according to the organizers of Britain’s Bad Sex in Fiction award who have canceled this year’s prize after “weeks of deliberation.”

The judges of the annual prize given out by the British magazine, Literary Review, “felt that the public had been subjected to too many bad things this year to justify exposing it to bad sex as well,” the magazine said.

The cancelation of the 2020 awards should not be taken as a license to write bad sex scenes, the judges warned.

There’s more at the link.

Of course, the same thing could be said of many aspects of fiction in this all-too-nasty 2020.  Who would have thought that dystopian fiction would become reality on the streets of far too many American cities?  Or that free speech would become so bound up and ensorcelled by the inanities of political correctness?  Or that “free and fair” elections in the most democratic nation on earth should deteriorate into unfree, unfair and even criminal machinations?

I think I’ll call for submissions for a new anthology.  The theme will be “Bad politically correct sex during manipulated elections in a dystopian urban nightmare”.  Suggestions for storylines are welcome in Comments!

15 thoughts on “Sometimes the jokes write themselves…

  1. Some years ago, I encountered a parody that just returned to mind. It was a “sex story” in which there was no mention of anyone’s sex, or of any aspect of their coupling…if, indeed, the word is appropriate. Given today’s “gender fluidity” madness, we may soon see such “non-sexist sex stories” published in all the politically correct places. Just add a few street riots and diatribes against President Trump in between the “sex acts” — descriptions of which will never, ever mention anyone’s sex, nor any orifice, nor any particular part being caressed or otherwise enjoyed, as that would be sexist — and you’ll have it “licked!”

  2. A female author writes a middle-aged white male professor’s midlife crisis from an table and uncomfortable chair purchased from a closed Starbuck’s that she’s set up in a corner of her apartment with art purchased from same to pretend to be writing in a cafe while she ponders writing sex from her protagonists point of view and if she’s violating anything by assuming men have a different internal dialog during the act than women do. She eventually decides that the only safe harbor for her as an author is to make certain that he doesn’t enjoy it and simply becomes more depressed. With Joy at typing “the end” she contacts a fellow author who sadly informs her that the story has been done to death and she ought to change one or another of the characters into dinosaurs.

    1. And that she should market it to YA, because interspecies love is the. Next. Big. Thing. in YA books and the teens really need to know that it’s OK.

      [Aaaaand I’m going to go wash my hands after typing that, and will stay far, far away from the YA section at the book store because, well, it’s 2020.]

  3. Well, there aren’t any manipulated elections in my story “The Island Of Forbidden Dances”, but it does deal with bad politically correct sex in a dystopian setting.

  4. Well, “bad politically incorrect sex during a manipulated election” sounds like “A World Between” by Norman Spinrad. The setting is not a “dystopian urban nightmare,” though — the home planet seems like a rather pleasant place, all told.

  5. One of the only short stories I’ve ever written (they’re HARD) was in response to something like this that was posted here years ago. Alien cowboy sex, I think it was. At least that’s what’s in the story I wrote. This one has already happened non-fictionally: Toobin.

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