Coachella calls for a raunchier article than usual. Readers beware.

Want to write the next steamy Fifty Shades of Grey, but don’t want to be a copy cat?

Who said true love can’t be slutty and raw, experienced on the muddy ground of some flimsy tint while rock hard music destroys the atmosphere? Maybe the thought of getting sweaty with an uptight CEO bores and yet imagining the body of a rap god gets the blood raging.

If so, then Coachella, the music and arts festival, may be the backdrop of your next breakout erotica. Or your next fiction short story.

Twenty-somethings fast on the Coachella Diet months in advance before running to spend a whole weekend hooking up and partying till their earbuds burst.

It is the place where naked wizards get tased, and as Marlow Stern so kindly put it on the Dailey Beast, where douchebags and trust fund babies lurk.

What better place for a story? Who has been to Coachella?