In case you haven’t read my previous blog posts, tweets, or FB status updates: I wrote a novel about a beautiful thirty-nine-year-old married mother of three, who has an affair with a sixteen-year-old stud. And I haven’t been struck down by lightning. Yet.
I did get this response on twitter though: “that’s called statutory rape and it’s NOT cool.”
Well, duh. Good thing it’s fiction. And Dicey writes sexy, wild, daring, risky books.
Now that we got that out of the way–I’m not advocating statutory rape. I’m not promoting infidelity. No more than James Patterson encourages murder. Or Jeff Lindsay and the producers of “Dexter” urge you to become a serial killer. Or the producers of “Arlington Road” suggest terrorism.
I merely write fiction. It’s entertainment. And the fact that I’ve not cheated on my husband with a sixteen-year-old is what makes it entertaining. To me. I can get in the mind of my character and understand why she does what she does whether I agree with it or not. I can also understand how things end up the way they do.
And if you find the synopsis interesting, then you might find my novel entertaining as well. If not, stay away from it. It’s only for those who do.
And there are those who do. I also got this tweet: “I want to read that.”
Fortunately, you can live vicariously through my characters without experiencing their angst. Because my characters aren’t real, but their dilemmas are. Matter of fact, when I was editing my story, I met several people who told me they experienced some of the same things I wrote about or they knew of someone who did. I even met a man who has been the sixteen-year-old boy. It happens. Every day. To your neighbors. Teachers. Justin Beiber (allegedly). It is fiction based in reality. Without all the real life consequences.