Morrissey’s been nominated for the Bad Sex In Fiction Awards

Literary sex is a lot like real sex: some of it is good, some of it is bad, and some of it is so awful you dare not speak about it again. 

In case you’d forgotten, Morrissey’s debut fiction novel List of the Lost came in for a universal ribbing on its release earlier this year due to one horrifically clunky sex scene, and now it’s rightfully been shortlisted for the Literary Review's 23rd Bad Sex in Fiction awards.

Though if there’s any saving grace for Mozza, it’s that he’s joined by Norwegian heavyweight Tomas Espedal, US crime writer George Pelecanos and Lauren Groff, whose work Fates and Furies was just picked by Amazon as book of the year, highlighting that even the best novelists can get literary sex scenes awkwardly wrong.

Even so, we can't help shake the feeling this will be one award that the singer is destined to win.

We know the man thinks meat is murder, but he went above and beyond in butchering the pleasures of the flesh in his book.

You can read the most cringe-worthy of the entries below. Just prepare to gag.

List of the Lost - Morrissey

'At this, Eliza and Ezra rolled together into the one giggling snowball of full-figured copulation, screaming and shouting as they playfully bit and pulled at each other in a dangerous and clamorous rollercoaster coil of sexually violent rotation with Eliza's breasts barrel-rolled across Ezra's howling mouth and the pained frenzy of his bulbous salutation extenuating his excitement as it whacked and smacked its way into every muscle of Eliza's body except for the otherwise central zone.'

The Martini Shot - George Pelecanos

'She stroked my pole and took off my briefs, and I got between her and spread her muscular thighs with my knees and rubbed myself against her until she was wet as a waterslide, then I split her.'

Before, During, After - Richard Bausch

'She reached up and brought him to her, then rolled over on top of him and began softly to move down. When she took him, still a little flaccid, into her mouth, he moaned, ‘Oh, lover.’ She felt him harden, and she tightened her lips and pulled, and then ran her tongue slow along the shaft, and then straightened and straddled him, guiding him into her, sinking and rising on him, head back, hands gripping his shoulders. It went on. It was very good.'

Book of Numbers - Joshua Cohen

'Her mouth was intensely ovoid, an almond mouth, of citrus crescents. And under that sling, her breasts were like young fawns, sheep frolicking in hyssop – Psalms were about to pour out of me.'

Against Nature - Tomas Espedal

'Héloise has lost all sense of how she ought to behave, she practically throws herself at Abélard, pulls him to the floor and straddles him as if they’re two boys fighting. She presses him to the ground, pins his hands to the floor. She kisses his face and licks it. She bites his lip. She bites his cheek. She pants in his ear, shouts his name in his ear, she whips his face with her hair. She stops his mouth hard with her hand and takes his breath away. She rides above him the way she’d imagined that one day she’d ride a boy, a man, a beast...'

Fates and Furies - Lauren Groff

'She pushed him back on the sandy tar paper, and he was looking up at her face in the glow, and she lifted her skirt and moved the crotch of her underwear aside, and Lotto, who was always ready, who was ready at the most abstract imaginings of a girl – footprints of a sandpiper like a crotch, gallons of milk evoking boobs – was not ready at this oh-so-abrupt beginning.'

Fear of Dying - Erica Jong

'While I lie next to him, astounded by his presence still, he opens my silk robe and touches my cunt as if he were Adam just discovering Eve’s pussy.‘Beautiful,’ he says.'

The Making of Zombie Wars - Aleksandar Hemon

'Far in the back of whatever was left of his mind, the light of reason was struggling against being finally extinguished and he was aware that wearing a condom would’ve been a good idea, but there was no way that he was getting out of her… She let him in so deep he didn’t have to think about her, and therefore he didn’t have to think about himself, but of course he was thinking about not thinking about himself...'