What connects Motorhead’s singer and bassist, the celebrated painter Jack Vettriano, and B.R Lee’s erotica writing endeavours? Nothing much, you’d think. But read on to get to the (pert) bottom of it all.

Ladies and gentlemen – mostly ladies I’d expect – I’d like to present two extremely talented individuals, who are sadly no longer with us, but remembered, and revered all the same. The first is Lemmy Kilmister, the great bassist and singer of iconic heavy rock band Motorhead, who proudly boasted (and warned?) that “If you moved in next door, your lawn would die.” The band’s most well known song is Ace of Spades and if you want to listen to them on stage giving it welly, their album No Sleep ‘Til Hammersmith is your first port of call. And make sure you listen to (We Are) The Roadcrew – a wry ditty dedicated to life on the road and the guys keeping the proverbial sh*t together while the band tours.

And the second is the equally late and great artist (one of Scotland’s most loved in recent memory) Jack Vettriano, whose penchant for evocative and provocative paintings have endeared himself to a great many people in this country and around the world. His paintings are seen on prints, dish cloths, coasters, cards, books, you name it. Jack’s paintings fall into two camps: either the ‘nice’ ones that you’ll see on your parents’ lounge walls or on greetings cards. And then there’s ‘naughty’ Jack: the paintings which are sexually provocative, edgy, or at the very least offer a hint of this. Many feature alluring brunettes in little or no clothing.

Straight off the bat I’ll admit to being a big fan of both. As a rock and metal lover (which you more than know if you follow me on social media) I’ve got a lot of time for Motorhead’s no-nonsense rock n’ roll, both their music and their approach. I actually saw Lemmy from a few yards away as he walked around a rock club in a city he’d just performed in. Class.

As for Jack Vettriano, I’ve long had a genuine and deep appreciation for his work. I’ve bought various desk planners and (more recently), calendars over the years. I’ve got a framed print of one of his most famous paintings (Dance Me To The End Of Love), one of his books, and to top it all off, in 2002 I attended his exhibition in the Fife town of Kirkcaldy, which focused on his earlier years.

So how the heck do Lemmy and Jack Vettriano relate to erotica writing? Or let me be a tad more specific. How do they relate to my erotica writing?

It’s simple. It’s about their attitudes and knowing who matters.

ALL HAIL THE PUNTERS.

Bit of a giveaway, that line above, isn’t it? But it’s an immutable fact all the same. We all have our ‘audiences’ that we engage with at one point or another. And some are far more important than others.  

Ask a marketer or business person what the key reason for commercial failure is and they’ll tell you: lack of sales. What does that equate to? A lack of people getting their wallets out of their pockets or purses from handbags and parting with their cash.  It’s the same whether it’s records or concert tickets, prints or paintings, or in my case, erotic fiction sold on Amazon.

Customers matter.

And it’s these people who have always mattered the most to Lemmy and to Mr Vettriano. Don’t take my word for it though. In their own words:

“I never cared about charts. I care about the guy who works all week and spends his money to see us play loud. That’s who I play for.” Lemmy Kilmister.

“Other artists thought I had sold out when I first agreed to sell posters, and that was for about £2,000 a year. Ask them now whether they’d like to be in my position and I wonder what they’d say. I am in a position to give a huge number of people a huge amount of pleasure, and some artists are filling their garrets with their work which no one will ever see.” Jack Vettriano, 2007 interview.

Let’s face it: Lemmy, bless his soul, wouldn’t give a flying fu…dge about what some music reviewer, or faceless record company bean counter, thought about his band and the music they created and performed. Integrity and their relationship with their fans were far more important.

Integrity definitely mattered to Jack Vetrriano as well. He was quoted in a 2022 interview as follows:

“Well, I don’t much give a f*** and you can quote me on that. Any artist worth the name has to be true to himself. People have called my work misogynistic, but I can tell you that women are the biggest fans of my work and that I find very interesting. I don’t apologise for what I have done and what I have painted.”  Interview with Stephen McGinty for the Sunday Times in 2022.

As an erotica writer, I have to agree. Having self-belief and a real sense of purpose are invaluable, especially when the money isn’t yet rolling in, but also when it is. Otherwise, one becomes a sell out. By the way, this will be a point brought up again from a different aspect in a future blog post and once again involving a musician. 

SCREW THE SNOBS!

Giving a damn about one’s customers is key. So is having a healthy disdain for the snobs in one’s area of expertise, which often comes as a result of being treated poorly and derisively by them. In Vettriano’s case, his most famous work, The Singing Butler, sold at auction in 2004 for £744,800: at the time a record for a Scottish painting. Yet the National Galleries of Scotland have never seen fit to buy one of his paintings, and he’d been the object of criticism and for decades from the arty-farty brigade throughout his painting life. Despite being given the accolade of “the people’s painter” in respect to the sheer popularity of his work, he was never given the respect he deserved from within the art world.

Going further back, Vettriano was rejected by the Edinburgh College of Art (part of the University of Edinburgh). In what may have felt like a resounding two fingers stuck up to the art wankers as well as one hell of a motivational tool for everyone to recognise, at the Kirkcaldy exhibition, this was prominently displayed next to his other paintings.

And thank the stars he was rejected. The budding painter who didn’t have any formal artistic training persevered and became a nationwide, and global, favourite. And at the end of the day, who is the more important audience: a small bunch of stuck-up twats or an appreciative and frankly adoring public who happily pay for his prints, cards and other gifts. You know the answer. Vettriano and his accountant certainly would have too.

THE EROTIC WRITING COMPARISON.

I’d love to offer myself as the erotica writing equivalent of Lemmy or Jack Vettriano. But I can’t – at least not yet. Patience, Dear Readers, patience.

So let’s consider someone who has reached the giddy heights of smut writing stardom – E.L. James, of Fifty Shades fame (and fortune). She’s made some serious money, and when the Fifty Shades trilogy were released and filling up column inches here, there, and everywhere, it seemed like everybody in the country had at least heard of her, if not read her books. Women were now openly reading her novels on public transport and talking about it with their friends. It brought the area of erotica to a much wider audience and one which couldn’t be ignored. But that hasn’t spared her from criticism and derision. She herself has been roundly set upon by sex educators and the BDSM fraternity alike for aspects pertaining to her main protagonists, inaccuracies pertaining to BDSM and consent, writing style, and…well, you get the picture.

But, once again, considering the wealth she has accrued from book royalties, film rights and sex toy licensing, do you honestly think she has sleepless nights because she isn’t getting the nod from arty farty book critics? You know that answer too. Screw the out-of-touch snobs: they are NOT the market.

THE B.R. LEE POSITION ON ALL THIS.

So, considering all this, you can well understand my respect for Lemmy and JV: both in general for their output over the decades coupled with their abilities to proverbially stick it to those who probably thought they were ‘better’ than them, but in reality were probably not even in the same league as them, and perhaps consumed by jealousy and bitterness beyond measure.

Focusing on Vettriano for a moment, I have loved his work for decades, and he thoroughly deserved his financial rewards, as well as his place in the hearts of many people who equally adore his work. And if I could achieve the same in the saucy writing world, I’d be a happy bunny indeed. I’ll be brutally honest and state that I want the riches that come with selling an outrageous amount of stories around the world to readers who genuinely love my stories and have accompanied me on the journey. That’s called ambition, and there’s nowt wrong with it. If I’m making money, and in time, serious money, it’s because I’m doing something right, and most importantly, my readers think so too: to the point that they become loyal advocates.

As you can deduce, when it comes to my erotica writing, I don’t give a damn about literary awards. Nor do I care about the opinions of the arty farty book brigade or publishing world. As an aside, I don’t give a damn about Oxford bloody commas either. Am I an articulate, erudite chap with a rich vocabulary? Absolutely. Is this required or wanted in a saucy story? Not necessarily. My stories should have readers reaching for something with a spare hand – and it’s most definitely not a dictionary or thesaurus. So just as JV was rejected by art school and probably not ‘pure’ enough for the likes of the arty farties, or appropriately educated, I don’t see myself enrolling for an MA in Creative Writing anytime soon. I’ve got enough letters after my name already. I think I’ve got enough savvy, nous, and acumen to propel me in the right direction. Oh, and a wonderfully dirty mind.

I’ve often fantasised about my story characters, scenes and locations being painted in a style reminiscent of Jack’s paintings. Ah well, maybe someday, when I’m rich and revered – by you, Dear Reader.

A FINAL WORD ABOUT THE IMAGERY – OR LACK OF.

The truth is that while the main featured image is okay, it wasn’t the image originally envisaged. If you were hoping that the images in this post would have included some of Mr Vettriano’s work, that was my hope too. And this was way things were going, to the point that an image was produced and duly saved. And then image reproduction and copyright issues suddenly came into my head: with some force, it should be said. I had a plan to show my current and recent Jack Vettriano calendars, a book about him, the programme from his 2022 exhibition in Kirkcaldy from the last four, and photos I’d taken at the exhibition. The prospect of potential take downs, strongly worded correspondence from publishing legal departments, or even worse, got into my head. And let’s face it: I’d much rather be focusing on writing and engaging with readers, and not devoting time and money to a legal nightmare, not to mention a lot of stress and bad vibes. I hope you understand.

With that being said, feel free to marvel in the magic that both featured individuals produced:
Motorhead’s official website
Jack Vettriano website