When you think about sex on the Web, you immediately think of the thousands and thousands of awful pornographic sites on the information superhighway. Type in the word sex in one of the search engines and your computer becomes a virtual paradise of crap-sometimes titillating, other times disturbing. One forgets about sex and erotica in the context of how it affects society, culture, and the way we view relationships. With that respect, to a significant degree, Playboy had ignited the sexual revolution in America over forty years ago with its magazine.

Now Nerve.com (www.nerve.com) looks poised to inaugurate a new way of how we look at sex in the digital age. Launched two years ago by CEO Rufus Griscom and President Genevieve Field, Nerve.com is a website that features insightful fiction and essays on erotica as well as fine quality photography from renowned artists. The magazine's presentation of sex pushes the envelope with fun, honesty, and intelligence.

The site has already gained media attention from CNN to the Village Voice, and is currently expanding their empire. In November, Nerve will launch its community space where readers can build their own homepage, have e-mail, post messages on bulletin boards, and place and answer personal ads. Just recently, Nerve launched a print version of the site (watch out Playboy) and though it is a new medium, they are keeping the philosophy of the company intact.

NewBeats.com has a chance to talk to Nerve's Lorelei Sharkey, Associate Editor and Director of Community. Ms. Sharkey spoke about the site, its philosophy on its literate erotica, and what lies ahead.

1. As associate editor, you field the story submissions to Nerve -- what are your criteria in judging a piece? Have you come across anything that was way off the mark?

We're looking for great writing that examines different aspects of the sexual experience in distinctly new ways. Some people who stumble uponNerve.com immediately assume that writing about sex automatically equals either conventional erotica or technical instruction; it's understandable considering there haven't been many alternatives over recent years (which is where Nerve comes in). So we often get interesting work that's erotic or educational, but that just doesn't mesh with our style. (If sentences like "Love juice dripped down her velvety inner thigh appear in the first paragraph of a submission, I'm pretty sure that piece in its entirety is not going to be quite right for Nerve.)

2. For someone who was living in a cave in the last 40 years, how does Nerve define the term "literate smut." Do you think those terms contradict each other?

We would define it, very simply, as cliche-shattering prose and fiction as well as striking photography about sex that inspires and challenges the reader/viewer. However, we actually don't use the term "literate smut" to describe Nerve anymore because too many people were taking it too seriously rather than appreciating its irony. For us, the charm of it was the contradiction, the unexpected juxtaposition of one sort of highbrow word with another endearingly old-fashioned, almost out-dated lowbrow one. But we'd often get people saying "What your doing is great, but why do you call it 'smut'? That's so negative and doesn't do your content justice." So we've dropped it to avoid confusion.

3. I read you are planning the print version of Nerve, ironic because it is usually the other way around. Any marked differences with the magazine compared to the website?

We're delighted to be one of the forerunners of online magazines branching out into print; a print version has always been a goal of ours, so we're thrilled to see it finally coming together. There will be some overlap, but there will definitely be features that are unique to the print mag, just as there will be content you can only access on the Internet.

4. A prude might read the articles/essays and look at the photography and might interpret them as pornographic? How do you counter that? Is there a fine line between good taste and bad taste when it comes to sex and erotica?

I imagine there are people who aren't necessarily "prudes" who would consider what we publish pornographic. As D. H. Lawrence once said, "What is pornography to one man is the laughter of genius to another." It's all very subjective. We have a fairly specific aesthetic and style that we stick to. Basically, we're much more interested in the realities of sex rather than the fantasy, and I think that's what sets us apart from most sex-related material out there. We're also dedicated to originality and feminism -- two things you don't find much of in traditional, formulaic, male-oriented pornography. At the other end of the spectrum, there are people who criticize us for being too tame and highbrow, not hard-core enough. Luckily, we've found that there is a huge audience out there that shares our tastes (whether "good" or "bad").

5. What attracted you to work at Nerve? You don't often hear people say they work at an erotica webzine? What aspect of Nerve that you take pride in--what makes it unique?

I was criticized by a friend once for sounding like a cult member when I talked about Nerve; it's one of the less desirable effects of having job you love and believe in. That said: What attracted me to Nerve, what I take pride in here, and what makes it unique are all pretty much the same things: Nerve's dedication to great writing, art and design; its intelligent, atypical, inclusive vision; its very cool founders; the fact that it was a small start-up in such a young, exciting industry; its
growth potential; and the fact that it's based in NYC, my hometown.(By the way, it's interesting how you've phrased the question because I wouldn't say that I worked at an erotica zine. Traditional erotic narrative is often formulaic and euphemistic in its attempt to get the reader off. Nerve is much more interested in publishing great new writing than in titillation. So I always say I work at a smart literary and photography magazine that happens to be about sex.

6. You recently participated with 200 other people in a nude photo shoot by Spencer Tunick [Tunick is (in)famous for gathering large groups of volunteers to pose naked in various public places]. You described that experience in your monthly letter from the Editors on the site (www.nerve.com/editors/october99). I'd like to hear from you why you decided to participate. Was it something that you wanted to do? Did you think long and hard about that or was it a spontaneous decision? Did it feel liberating or nerve-wracking or both doing this at 5AM in Brooklyn with other naked strangers? And of course, when it was all said and done, were you able to find yourself in the photo?

My friend and fellow Nerve editor Emma Taylor and I decided to do it because it was something we never thought we'd do. And because we thought it would be such an usual experience that we'd remember forever, like jumping out of a plane. We told no one before we did it. Afterwards, we wanted to tell everyone. It really was on our way home at 7 in the morning that we realized all these parallels existed between what had just participated in and what we hope participation on NerveCenter will be like; that's when we had our next letter from the editors. When Spencer brought the contact sheets by the office, we immediately scanned them for familiar body parts, which we recognized but that I bet no one else would, thankfully because they were virtually hidden in that huge sea of skin.

7. Nerve's future looks very promising with the print version of the site and its own web community? What are the goals of the site and what do you hope to accomplish?

Borrowing from our mission statement: We started Nerve because sex is a subject in need of a fearless, intelligent forum for both genders. We believe that women (men too, but especially women) have waited long enough for a smart, honest magazine on sex, with cuntsure (and cocksure) prose and fiction as well as striking photographs of naked people that capture more than their flesh. But we're not on some fix-eyed mission to rally the forces of sexual revolution. Though some would dispose of taboos entirely, we prefer to gnaw on them like squeaky dog toys. Of course it's not lost on us that a world without taboos would be a little less in need of Nerve. So, we're hoping to give as many people as possible a look at sex that's more graphic, forthright, and topical than "erotica," but less blockheadedly masculine than "pornography." And we're hoping to continue to do that in new ways, whether it's through the print magazine or the community space or other multimedia projects we've got in the works.