Writing About Sexual Assault

By Sebastian Vice

I’ve never shied away from writing about sexual assault, despite people telling me to avoid such topics. Sexual assault is more pervasive than murder. Yet, murder gets far more page and screen time. A conservative estimate is 1 in 5 women are sexually assaulted in their lifetimes. A more liberal estimate is 1 in 3. Regardless of who’s right, it’s a stunningly high number of women who experience sexual violence. If one aspect of art is holding a mirror up to reality, then shouldn’t we welcome stories involving sexual assault?

I admit I know mostly hard and broken people. My personality and disposition lends itself to a certain type of lost soul. Even so, of the women I know who’ve opened up to me, not one lacks a sexual assault story. Not. Fucking. One. They’ve all been assaulted.

So let’s write about it. And let’s present it honestly. And let’s not look away.

Remember, nothing you write about holds a candle to reality. Google “Peter Scully” if you don’t believe me. It’s almost impossible to outdo Scully—a child snuff porn director. Yes, you heard that string of words correctly.

I won’t dictate that you must write about sexual violence. Not that such dictates would do much good anyway. However, I do think it needs to be explored more. But I think there’s a right and wrong way to do it. I think we can all see that fridging is overdone. We don’t need more pieces on a woman’s sexual assault serving as a plot point for a dude to take action. It’s been overdone. And in a way, it cheapens the ramifications of assault. Nor do we need easy and clean assaults where the person moves past it quick. People don’t. Sexual violence reverberates for months, years, decades.

When I started writing about sexual violence, I did my best to take care of its presentation. I never want it titillating. I didn’t want it shocking for shock sake. I wanted it honest, and raw. I never wanted to give the impression it’s a subject taken lightly. More importantly, sexual trauma lingers. It changes a person. Perhaps most importantly, I wish to always be on the side of the victim in such pieces.

If you desire to write about sexual assault, I can recommend no greater book than Anna Salter’s Predators.

Salter is a premier expert on the psychology of rape. Dare I say, she pioneered the field. This book is great not only for writers who employ sexual violence in their work, but for anyone who wishes to understand the inner life of predators and victims. This book is not only an essential source for those who wish to write about rape, but to everyone who wishes to keep themselves safe. Side note: Salter has a cynical disposition which I quite appreciate.

What you’ll learn:

Counter-intuitive victim behaviors.

Why women are far more at risk in their own home than in public.

Why, contrary to common thought, some people can’t be rehabilitated.

And much more.

Let’s write about sexual assault. But let’s do the subject justice.