Slipping A Nip

Is this really the way to get attention on Medium?

“It would be my guess that Madonna is not a very happy woman.” David Bowie

I have a problem with writers — me included. First of all, we’re all love-starved. We want claps so bad, we’ll do absolutely anything to get them — including what I call “Madonna-esque” writing. This can be described as whorish antics, including the adoption of any persona that makes us stand out.

On any given day, someone is saying to themselves “Why not slip a nip?” Not literally, of course. My nips, for example, wouldn’t interest anyone. What I mean is, why not be controversial? Why not write something that can’t be ignored? Like Madonna did, popping her breast out in Turkey one time, then mooning the public in Rome the next day.

This “slip the nip” strategy has been adopted by so a number of writers—including me (I wrote “The Guide to Stiffies”). I’ve always figured that’s about as much as I’m willing to talk about sex.

Sometimes you have to up your game, like she [Madonna] did kissing Drake on the mouth at Coachella, and getting a less than favourable reaction from the rapster.

Then again, like Madonna, circumstances can change. Sometimes you have to up your game, like she did kissing Drake on the mouth at Coachella, and getting a less than favourable reaction from the rapster.

“He was grossed out,” TMZ reported, which was later explained as an aversion to her lipstick, not the lips themselves. He later stated “I got to make out with the queen Madonna!” but the Material Girl was already miffed. She responded with “If you don’t like me and still watch everything I do. Bitch, you’re a fan.” She also reported in Vanity Fair: “Don’t kiss Drake no matter how many times he begs you.”

Well, sometimes “un-slipping a nip” works, too, but let’s stick to “Madonna-esque” writing. One writer here on Medium, G. Charles, wrote “How A Moment on the Beach Led to a Motel Room,” a self-explanatory piece where he managed to lure a student from Long Beach State—who was on the beach trying to study—to a seedy motel.

That’s the beauty of the “slip a nip” strategy. Nobody’s holding a stopwatch.

“Writing it felt smooth and natural,” he claimed, which I guess it would considering it only took a five-minute verbal exchange before they were wrangling on a motel bed.

That’s the beauty of the “slip a nip” strategy. Nobody’s holding a stopwatch. As long as the “shock effect” has some element of surprise—or simply gets you off—then you’ve accomplished what every erotica writer hopes to accomplish.

More importantly, if you’ve got a good imagination, you don’t even have to leave your apartment. Someone once said, “The best erotica is created by writers who’ve never had a good romp, and probably never will.”

I’m willing to bet a vast majority of “shock docs” are more fantasy than actual wick dippers. That said, we are writers after all, and we shouldn’t be hamstrung by lack of experience—or lack of opportunity.

When I wrote “People We Shouldn’t Eat,” I hadn’t eaten a soul. When I wrote “The Psychology of Nipple-Sucking,” I hadn’t even seen a nipple (besides my own) in months. The point is (or was), I knew nipples were a golden opportunity to explore sensuality, even if it did bring out mommy issues in some comments (which I answered promptly with more mommy issues).

And I’m not surprised, either, by the movement away from crass sex like “Why My Vagina Is More Photogenic Than Yours,” or “Okay. Back to My Vagina.”

I’m also keenly aware that editors are always on the prowl for that certain perspective that hasn’t been explored (like my nipples). And I’m not surprised, either, by the movement away from crass sex like “Why My Vagina Is More Photogenic Than Yours,” or “Okay. Back to My Vagina.”

In fact, after reading Ariana’s “I Had Sex with 7 Men in 7 Days,” I realized this wasn’t so much erotica as a firsthand look at what it means to shave, shower, dress up, and strip the bed every day. “It’s exhausting,” she said, but she got to know herself more, something I guess she wouldn’t have gotten without a 7-man, 7-day frequency.

In any event, like Madonna, Ariana can look at her experiments with some pride and satisfaction. As Madonna once said, “I’m not doing this to entertain you, I’m doing it to entertain me.” That’s an interesting distinction. Aren’t we all in our own way entertaining ourselves? Isn’t each article as much of a surprise to ourselves as our potential readers?

If I couldn’t shock myself occasionally, I’d consider myself tired and old. And since I can’t date 7 women in 7 days (I live in a small town), I’m forced to write stories with no experience to back them up.

I’m not a poser, and it’s not like I’ve never had experiences, but my need to be “loved” won’t find me trying to drag some student back to a motel room (again, small town, one motel, and more gossips than you can shake a stick at).

As he [Bowie] once said, “I re-invented my image so many times, I’m in denial that I was originally an overweight Korean woman.”

So I guess I’m with David Bowie on this one, figuring we’re not particularly happy “slipping a nip” just to get noticed on Medium—or anywhere else. As he once said, “I re-invented my image so many times, I’m in denial that I was originally an overweight Korean woman.”

That’s something to consider, too. The need to be “loved” can turn us into reflective sour-pusses, although I’ve never imagined being a Korean woman, let alone overweight. Bowie has a point, though, and it stands to reason we’ll eventually burn out trying to make ourselves “editor-worthy.”

So what’s the answer? Maybe it’s time we took a serious look at ourselves. For instance, consider commercials these days. We constantly see the family, the dog, the minivan packed with features to keep everyone amused. There’s nothing to make us think or feel. There’s no idea.

Maybe instead of writing every day, we thought every day.

Is the same thing happening with our writing? I’d hate to think we’re more interested in attention than saying something substantive. I’m sure it works fine for Madonna. Then again, maybe it doesn’t. As far as I can tell, she’s a very shallow person. Are we shallow people, too?

Maybe instead of writing every day, we thought every day. I’m not saying it’ll change our writing overnight. But surely it’s better than wondering if we were originally an overweight Korean woman (not that there’s anything wrong with that—jeez, David, that’s kinda racial).

Anyway, it seems to me there are a lot of ways to be loved. Not that I have the answer. I just don’t want to come away from this unhappy. And I certainly don’t want to end up like Madonna. I don’t have the body for it.

And I sure don’t want Drake telling everyone my lipstick tastes like crap.

Robert Cormack is a satirist, novelist, and blogger. His first novel “You Can Lead a Horse to Water (But You Can’t Make It Scuba Dive)” is available online and at most major bookstores. Check out Robert’s other articles and stories at robertcormack.net