Bad sex awards!
The Guardian article noted that EL James is not one of the finalists - because erotic literature is excluded from this contest. I fully support that - good lord, if you want to read GOOD sex then you read erotic literature. (Not that EL James necessarily writes great sex. Just saying.)
Here are my favourite nominees!
Back to Blood, by Tom Wolfe Now his big generative jockey was inside her pelvic saddle, riding, riding, riding, and she was eagerly swallowing it swallowing it swallowing it with the saddle's own lips and maw — all this without a word. (This is metaphor waaaay to extended and gone very, very wrong.)
Rare Earth by Paul Mason He began thrusting wildly in the general direction of her chrysanthemum, but missing — his paunchy frame shuddering with the efford of remaining rigid and upside down. (Another metaphor that’s a miss – chrysanthemum???)
The Yips by Nicola Barker She smells of almonds, like a plump Bakewell pudding; and he is the spoon, the whipped cream, the helpless dollop of warm custard. (Is this really about sex? Out of context, I guess I have to take their word for it.)
The Divine Comedy by Craig Raine And he came. Like a wubbering springboard. His ejaculate jumped the length of her arm. Eight diminishing gouts. The first too high for her to lick. Right on the shoulder. (More imagery that makes me shudder. Or should that be wubber?)
You can read all the nominees here. http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2012/nov/20/bad-sex-award-2012-shortlist