Book Review: As Kinky as You Wanna Be

BDSM... perhaps you didn't know anything about that until the entire "Fifty Shades" phenomenon? Personally I don't know how anyone in America, at least, hasn't heard about kink, bondage, S/M, or BDSM since the late 1970s, but let's say it's new to you and you're looking for an introduction. There are many books I could recommend, but a new book from Cleis Press (Shanna Germain's As Kinky as You Wanna Be: Your Guide to Safe, Sane, and Smart BDSM) arrived for my review just last week.



In certain circles I'm respected as a book reviewer, and I do between four and eight book reviews every month. At first I figured this would be a nice little intro book for which I'd just do reviews on several online book sites, and that would be that. But as I read it, I realized that I had some problems (and pleasures) with the book that really could use more time and attention. Oh, I'm still writing the smaller reviews, but this will be the detailed one.

Shanna Germain is a well-known erotica author who has a lot of publications, far more than me, in fact. This book includes one of her short stories, The Sun is an Ordinary Star, that is the best fiction piece of the 10 in this book. Yes, there are 10 stories in this book, generally after every chapter, though after Chapters 3 and 8 there are two stories. This format reminds me of John Warren's Safe, Sane, Consensual, and Fun, a book of annotated short stories that came out many years ago. Oddly, Germain mentions neither this Warren book nor his book The Loving Dominant in the resource guide at the end of As Kinky as You Wanna Be.



Like Warren, the short stories seem to highlight basic information for the kinky newbie. For Warren this was through the annotations; for Germain it is in the chapters, which look at several relevant topics relating to BDSM such as finding communities, figuring out what you like, and safety in various regards. However, not all of the stories really fit with the chapters they come after.  For example, Stella Harris' The Only Real Girl on the Internet seems more related to Chapter 1 than the chapter it follows, Chapter 7, which is about safety in terms of mental and physical concerns.

All of the short stories chosen for the book are well-written, but they do show an editor's bias toward female bottoms and male tops. Of the ten stories, five are firmly maledom/femsub, one is lesbian, one is femdom/malesub, and the other three are a bit more complicated than those mere categories – categories which are not explained in this guidebook to kink, by the way. There are no gay male stories at all. Perhaps the thought is that gay men have their own way of learning about these things, but since the book does not market itself toward a specific scene orientation, shouldn't it be more inclusive?

That's just my feedback on the short stories; let's turn to the chapters themselves, one at a time.  Please note that my praise and criticisms come from 25 years in the Scene, a good chunk of that as a writer, educator, and activist. I've been asked to introduce many people over the years to BDSM, so there is nothing in this book that I haven't had to tackle myself or help others look into. As I read I marked areas that really pushed me with sticky notes as well as marking passages that really pleased me. This is going to get long, so please stick with me.

Chapter 1, "Discovering Your Kinky Landscape" tries to do two things – introduce the basic terms and ideas of BDSM, and offer advice on how to figure out what you might be interested in. I had two problems with this chapter.  The first is the promotion of "power exchange," as though that is always what is going on. As we argued in our own book, At Her Feet, power may not be what you are giving each other, especially not if you think this means that one person has less power than another. I know it is still a commonly used expression in the Scene, so this is more of a personal disagreement; just know that if you are trying out BDSM, you don't lose your power at any time; you always have the right to say "no" or leave kink altogether, contrary to what Fifty Shades or some online top might have you believe.



The second and more problematic issue I had with this first chapter is this statement: "Here's the important thing about words and their definitions: no one else is more of an expert on yourself than you are. If you say you are [fill in the blank], then you are." Actually, no. While people in the Scene may argue about the meanings of terms, there are commonly accepted definitions out there. If you call yourself a submissive yet do not like to give up control in a scene, do not like serving others, and definitely want to be the one doing the activity, you are going to have a very rough time finding a partner, because everyone will be confused by you. This claim also makes little sense given the fact that the book has a glossary of terms, so clearly Germain believes that words have value. I hope this was just a clarity problem that might be cleared up in later editions. Yes, you are the best person to determine what works best for you, but you have to be able to communicate clearly with others or you simply won't be able to negotiate, assuming you can even find a partner.

There is an interview with Cecilia Tan, my own publisher, that I think really touched upon the topics of discovering what you like and who you are in terms of the Scene. The chapter ends with four well-crafted pieces of advice to help the reader learn more. Remittance Girl's story Amanda, Agnus Dei was an odd piece to find right at the start of this book, since it really pushes several hard edges for many folks, both inside and outside the Scene, by tackling religious and psychological elements of great importance to the characters.

Chapter 2, Talking the Talk, is about communicating before you start playing and after you've played. This may be the one thing, more than any other, that sets apart BDSM from vanilla sex – our focus on communicating before, during, and after and not buying into the "natural" myth that drives much of human sexual relationships and probably causes a fair number of miscommunication problems. The brief discussion is spot on, and the five suggestions on how to work on your communication are well thought out. The interview with Shanna Katz and the short story, Jump or Fall? (Excerpt) by Janine Ashbless fit right into the topic of the chapter.

Chapter 3, "Yes, No and Maybe: Consent and More," is the most important topic in BDSM, because to be blunt, what we often like to do may resemble abuse to those not involved, and this can be very confusing to newbies as well as misused by abusers who prowl our Scene. Germain says there are two elements that "stay the same" when it comes to consent, yet I have a big problem with the second of these: "There is no single right way to get and give consent or to create boundaries." On the surface this is true: there are many ways to learn enough that you can determine whether or not you want to consent to any given action, encounter, or individual. However, there are definitely wrong ways to approach consent, and I know that Germain understands this, because later in the chapter she says that consent must be explicit and informed. Given the popularity of Fifty Shades and other romance books that are kinking it up, this is an important topic. No, sorry, folks, but handing your potential partner a contract with a this-way-or-the-highway approach is not a valid way to get consent. I really liked that Germain does highlight what consent needs to include and that it is ongoing, but I really wish she'd spent more time on the examples of situations without valid consent.

The four suggestions for learning more about consent in Chapter 3 are good, but they overlook the fact that the top (or dom, or whatever) also needs to be able to give consent, to feel free to be asked questions, and to give honest answers. The submissive bias is clear in this chapter because of this lack of inclusion of tops as consent givers. Being a new top is scary, and it is all too easy to think you have to say "yes" to everything just so you aren't wimping out. Safewords, limits, desires, needs – all of that needs to be clarified on the top side of the kink equation, too. A good bottom needs to learn to ask questions, be honest, and listen as well, so the top can also choose to consent or not.

There is no interview in this chapter. The only lesbian piece in the book follows it, Knit One and Tie Me Up, Two by Kristina Wright, which looks at hint dropping and pre-prep, which I've had bottoms do for me and which worked okay as starters for negotiations. Bearers by Nikki Magennis looks at ongoing consent as something sexy and does a fine job of showing the fine line once the hot play has begun.

Chapter 4, "Packing Your Toybox," contains more than the title suggests. While Germain does talk about her experiences as a sex toy reviewer, she also mentions safer sex equipment you'll need to include. In general, I think the chapter needed to be a bit longer, but she jumps right into suggestions for how to add more "toys" to your collection of possible scene tools.  The first one suggests pervertables around your home, and this is both fun and dangerous. What might look innocent, like a tie or a scarf, can quickly become a trip to the clinic. Role playing as a toy you can use is interesting, but that suggestion comes out of the blue, so it needs more introduction, and some would argue an entire chapter to itself, and probably not in an introductory survey. Finally the chapter advises taking care of toys, but in a very general way that really doesn't do much toward educating the reader.  Plus, where is the guide to finding safe toys? Perhaps the idea was that the interview with Sunny Megatron about sex toys would cover everything, but I think in a guidebook you also need to be a bit repetitive, especially about safety concerns. The short story here, Anthropology by Donna George Storey, is sort of about toys and sort of about consent or getting starting in exploring BDSM.

Chapter 5 finally gets to the Scene in Culture and Etiquette. We get a little information about clubs and organizations, but really not much. I know that so much of the newbie exposure comes from online these days, and I may be old-fashioned, but getting involved so you can learn hands-on is still a very good way to learn and explore. I really think this chapter needed to be the second or third chapter of the guidebook, since so many folks are flocking to munches and public dungeons in light of contemporary fiction and films. Germain begins with her first play party experience, and I really appreciate her sharing her firsts, because I think it really makes a connection with the reader. Her five pieces of etiquette advice for play parties is spot on and needs to be re-iterated over and over before such gatherings.

But are play parties really the first public venture that most newbies have? Her suggestions to venture into the public kinky sphere are okay, but not great. She does not mention that there are currently two basic types of munches – the traditional sort is just getting together to meet other kinky folks, while the other is a more formal get-together where there is a topic for discussion or even a guest speaker. The etiquette differs for each type.  Online experiences are very common now, so I'm glad she included this as a viable introduction. Her final bit of advice in this chapter is to go with a friend or a buddy, which is great if you have a kinky or kink-open friend, but that isn't true for many people, so what should they do? I was really surprised that she didn't advise people to contact the organization or host for any public meeting to ask questions and discuss etiquette and rules. That's been my number one piece of advice to newbies to the Scene community for years. Lee Harrington's interview touches a few of these concerns, but again they are more focused on play parties, which may not be available or common in many areas for newbies. Likewise the only femdom story in the book, Petting Zoo, by Rachel Kramer Bussel, focuses on a play party event, not on something more common and mundane like a munch.

Chapter 6, Health and Well-Being, really needed to be closer to Chapter 4, I think, since that touched upon safety and toys. The focus of Chapter 6 is on mental and physical health. Germain is completely correct in her assessment that "taking care of yourself all the time, in your everyday life outside of your sexual self is a vital and often overlooked element of BDSM health and safety." I wish there was a bit more meat to this chapter, because it is so very important. The interview with Dr. Lynk was a good inclusion to this chapter. However, when I look at the resource list, I'm surprised not to see Race Bannon or Trevor Jacques mentioned, since their guidebooks included a good deal of information about safety and were some of the first in the Scene to do so.


Getting it Right by Teresa Noelle Roberts is a sweet story about trying out a new toy that looks at the nervousness this can create for both bottom and top, though, like most stories in this genre, it focuses more on the bottom's viewpoint. I do that myself when I write, so I don't see a huge problem with it. My only question about this story is its placement at the end of this chapter instead of Chapter 4.

Chapter 7, Staying Safe, is about making decisions concerning revealing yourself and learning about potential partners. It is safety on the wider level beyond toys or your body/mind. Overall the chapter is good, except for the very out-of-place first and second suggestions for further explorations: building a first aid kit and learning more about your nearby hospitals and clinics might fit better into Chapter 4 or even Chapter 6. The part about vetting your potential partners could use expansion as well, since not everyone is going to want to use phone apps. What we who've been doing this for a while might consider common-sense questions to ask won't necessary make sense to a newbie turned on by their fantasies. Jay Wiseman is the perfect interviewee for this chapter, but it would be great if both he and the chapter had more concrete safety tips for beginners, such as leaving enough room between restraints and the limbs you are restraining or the risks of being unable to move for longer stretches of time.

Likewise Stella Harris's The Only Real Girl on the Internet is a very intriguing story that tosses out the idea of who is really in control, but I don't really get how it connects to the themes of safety in this chapter. It seems more in line with other chapters that mention online exploration (Chapter 5) or simply figuring out what turns you on (Chapter 1).

Finally, chapter 8, Handling Rough Terrain, includes Germain's own struggles with Lyme disease, and frankly I wish more authors would be honest about similar health issues that have a real impact on their kinky interests and activities. Perhaps that is a more advanced topic for someone who has been into BDSM for a while, but it can also reassure newbies who may worry about whether or not their own health may prevent them from trying out kink. But why wasn't this story and the discussion of these health issues part of Chapter 6? I ask because it feels like it really should have been included early and because this chapter then goes on to look at some very intense topics, like feminism (by the way, this is something that dominant/top women struggle with, too) and rape fantasies. One huge problem in this chapter is the advice to protect yourself with a written agreement if you decide to enact your darker fantasies; there is little legal protection in such a document, as several trials around the world have demonstrated over the past two decades – better to do these fantasies with very trusted partners than rely upon an emailed or printed agreement. This hodgepodge of topics then results in three disconnected suggestions for activities, two of which, again, might be better suited to Chapter 6, and one that connects very directly with the darker side of kink.

The two stories also show the split personality of this chapter. The Wrong Woman by Kristina Lloyd is sure to touch off some triggers for some readers, but I thought it was a very clever and complex exploration of the what-if of professional BDSM, miscommunication, and the taboo subject of rape fantasies. Serious illness is the topic of Germain's own contribution, The Sun is an Ordinary Star, which as I said is the best in the collection, yet might be better positioned after Chapter 6.

This is a decent introductory book, but ultimately there are many things that are just rushed through in this guidebook that I really think need to be further explored especially for newbies. I'm not saying to write 300 more pages, but how about a sentence or two, and also, how about listing a few of the resources where they might fill in the gaps? Also, I think some rearranging of the chapters, suggested activities, and stories might be useful, like moving safety closer to the toys and exploring communities more toward the start of the book, since that might be the first step someone wants to take in exploring kink. Clarity is important, and if someone who has been doing BDSM for a quarter of a century is confused by the organization and information, imagine what a newbie might feel. Finally, there is a very strong female-bottom bent to this book, and that would be fine, except that it is spun as a guide to BDSM for everyone, not just female bottoms. Little attention is given to F/m, F/f, and multiple partners, and M/m dynamics are entirely missing. That is not cool, and it is not an honest reflection of the Scene.

If you want other non-fiction and fiction choices, please consult the Beyond 50 Project.