Q: I have a good friend I've known for almost 20 years, mostly remotely. We've always lived in different cities, but because we're both published erotica writers, we've had an uninhibited sexual friendship, primarily through words. We send each other our own work and links to porn, and once every four or five years we meet physically and have a couple of days of actual sex. We do have the issue of a gap between what we say to each other in e-mail and what we wind up doing when we actually meet, but I'm sure this happens to everyone who has a primarily virtual relationship. The main thing is that our relationship is based on mutual respect for each other's work -- by which I mean our published writing.

The real issue is that where I used to love everything she wrote, and really admired it for her pacing and characterization, lately I haven't liked her stuff so much. It no longer strikes me as great writing. And I'm not sure how to negotiate this. If our long-distance friendship is based primarily on respect for each other's work, then what happens when I no longer like hers as much?

A: What is happening is you are no longer getting to experience the delicious foreplay that comes from reading well-written erotica. A piece of erotic work that is both mentally stimulating as well as arousing is hard to come by; I can count on one hand the number of professional writers I personally believe can pull it off. This is why the Literary Review has been handing out a Bad Sex in Fiction Award every year since 1993. Every November, authors around the world hold their breath in hopes that they won't get spanked by the British literary magazine for fumbling through descriptions of sexual acts. If you read Rowan Somerville's "The Shape of Her," you might understand why he won the not-so-coveted award in 2010. Somerville treated his fans to this gem: "Like a lepidopterist mounting a tough-skinned insect with a too blunt pin, he screwed himself into her." (A lepidopterist, in case you're wondering, is a butterfly enthusiast.)

Just because someone has good sex doesn't mean he or she is able to skillfully write about it the morning after. I own bookshelves full of erotic short stories and novels, fiction and nonfiction, and I'd estimate approximately 10 percent of it is even worth rereading. I can't even imagine what a frustrating job someone like Rachel Kramer Bussel must have. She has edited nearly 30 anthologies, each packed with dozens of erotic short stories gleaned from hundreds of open-call submissions. I don't know how she's going to feel about me comparing her to a mainstream female porn star, but I'm about to, anyway: Imagine being subjected to mediocre to just plain bad sexual stimulation for hours and, if you're lucky, maybe something will get you off by the end of the workday. Rachel, if you're reading this, thank you for working so hard to make the world a better place.

When foreplay becomes the casualty in a couple's sex life, the good sex that's supposed to follow becomes awkward (and often abrasive). If her once-titillating writing was sustaining your sexual attraction to her, then I wouldn't hold out much hope for mind-blowing sex on your next rendezvous. Before you file her away in the friend zone, though, remember one thing: She's just as intelligent as she was before. Consider that her ability to develop memorable characters and roll out an absorbing plot hasn't flown away like a pupate Monarch unfurling from her inviolable cocoon to take her exhilarating virgin flight -- OH, YEAH! -- and instead she's just having a spell of writer's block ... which you just might be able to help her break the next time you get together.

  • Alexis McKinnis is taking your questions about sex, dating and relationships. Send them to advice@vita.mn or submit anonymously at www.vita.mn/alexis. Don't leave out the juicy details!