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When I first heard about Whip Smart by Melissa Febos, I must have had a crush on her about dozen different ways. First, she's a former Domme. Then she's published a book about her experiences. She runs a series in NYC. She has an MFA in Creative Writing from Sarah Lawrence. She teaches writing classes at a college. Her website is actually pretty cool. Okay, and finally, she is smoking hot. To my credit, I crushed on this last since I didn't see a picture of her until AFTER I found out all these things. That being said, I was really looking forward to reading her book. It seems to have caused quite a flutter. I'm saddened to say that I was really disappointed.
I'm not sure how someone can take BDSM, NYC, heroin and hot bisexual women hooking up, and make a boring story, but in that Febos succeeds. This book really had more to do with her drug use and struggle to stay clean--we are not taking about recreational party drug use here, we are talking about doing speedballs and shooting up before sessions.
The story is cliche: white suburban middle class oddball goes to NYC to find other oddballs, realizes shit is expensive and becomes a sex worker since the high hourly wage will not effect other recreational, artistic activities. I was forcing myself to get through the majority of this book--partially because I didn't find it very interesting but also because of the heavy drug use. I agree with Mistress Matisse's quip that it could have been called Needle Sharp. Read her well-written review in the Stranger here.
Then I ask myself: What am I really expecting when I read these memoirs? NONE of them admit, Hey, I really liked doing this and I was good at it. I made money, then I stopped. Now I write.
And I'm not really sure what the writers are expecting when they write it, but it seems to be something along the line of, Hey, I did this for a couple of years, barely enough to make a drop in the bucket so no one in the scene actually remembers or knows who I am until maybe when they see my new book. I had bad experiences in the sex industry, mostly due to my own problems BEFORE entering it and many CAUSED while in it, but hey, here's my book. Now I'm a writer and an adjunct.
Maybe I'm just reading the wrong memoirs. Anyone have any suggestions? (I have been reading The Unauthorized Autobiography of Master R, which I find fantastic and will post review when I'm finished.)