Greg, my hunk-o-hubby, is an unapologetic free-thinking academic. His ability to articulate the ineffable is truly staggering. His extrication skills are gold medal worthy. I trust his opinion when it comes to my work. But there is one thing my husband can not do.

Read my work.

I rely on his feedback on possible storylines, critiquing storyboards and developing characters. We are, if nothing else, extremely honest with one another so you see…I need him!

Since inviting you readers to our virtual bedpost, he's come to grips and now understands that my catharsis is writing; a way of inspecting the walls of my interior self.

But he won’t read my work!! He wasn’t always this way. He used to read my column. He used to look over my scenes. Then ‘it’ happened.

An aggressive case of blue-balls.

During a week long business trip to Montreal, I emailed him a piece I was working on. He read it and my phone rang.

Me: Hello?
Greg: You’re killing me

Since then he refuses to read my work! We can talk about the story as a whole but he runs like a girl when asked to read it. It really started to bother me so I went to my fellow female erotic authors. To my surprise they are through the same thing! It’s not just me.

What’s going on here? Why have our men jumped ship?