OR
If Only My Mind Would Shut Up And Let Me Write
by Kathleen Bradean
In the past two years, I can’t remember having written a
short story. A couple weeks ago I got the urge to dive back in, probably because
my erotic horror novel is once again on ice and my fantasy novel (under a
different pen name) was just released so I have writing time. It didn’t hurt that
I had a vision or flash of inspiration or whatever you want to call it that gave
me a story to write. Or, at least, a starting point.
The smart thing to do would have been simply to write the
little bit I saw in my vision and run with it, but of course I had to ruin
things by thinking about it. Instead of pondering why these people were there
doing that sexy thing together, I obsessed over *that* point in a story, the
one where the sex begins.
Even if I were to begin a story with lovers stumbling into a
room, groping and kissing frantically before they decide the bed is way the
hell over there, so why don’t they just do it against a wall (something that
looks super hot on film but in real life demands the flexibility of a contortionist
or freakishly misplaced sexual organs, which I’m sure happens, but not, alas,
to me), that’s not where the sex began. It started before the door slammed open
and this couple stumbled into the darkened hotel room even if technically that’s
where the physical act began. The point I’m looking for is when sex began on
the mental plane, which was much further back in the time line.
Say my two characters meet in a hotel bar. Both are enjoying
a hot jazz trio before toddling off the bed after a long day of being whatever
high powered job erotica characters have now. Is being a billionaire a
profession? Anyway, they lock gazes across the room. Suddenly, they’re thinking
about sex. Mutual attraction isn’t enough though. I can close my eyes and
inhale deeply in the bakery without tasting their donuts, after all. It’s
movement in the right direction, but thinking that the guy across the way has a
great butt and pretty eyes too doesn’t mean you’re going to let him finger you
in the glass elevator on the way up to your hotel room. (or maybe it does. I don’t
judge)
Now my characters interact. The seduction begins, maybe with
a drink sent over, or maybe she takes the bar stool next to his. You may
approach it differently, but this is where sex starts in my stories. It may
happen off page, before the opening lines of my tale, but it happens. Even when
my characters know each other, I think it’s sexy as hell to think of them flirting
with each other and appreciating that even in a long term relationship, sex isn’t
always a given. I have to know my characters went to the trouble to woo their
partners, or the sex against the wall won’t hold my interest.
I’m not saying the seduction needs to be drawn out, or the conversation
has to be sexual. What I want to see—what I want to write—is that point where
sex goes from a possibility to a certainty. And yes, it’s erotica, so it’s
expected that sex will happen, but I’d like for readers to feel that it isn’t a
given until that magical turn of mind occurs. But seeing as it is sort of a
magical thing, I have to mull it over for a long while before I write my story.
I’m trying to grasp an elusive thing. Deep down, I know there’s no formula to
getting it right on the page, but that never stops me from dissecting stories
that work to try to figure out why. It’s
a curse.
I agree, it's a curse. Lately I've found that my best stories are the ones I just sit down and write.
I love what you say here about the point where sex goes from a possibility to a certainty. And in my view, even if that certainty doesn't pan out, it's still erotica. Erotica is about desire, not sex. The two are sometimes disjoint.
thankfully, after I wrote this, I managed to get butt in seat and write the damned thing.
Interesting post, Kathleen. Your concentration on the process by which possible sex becomes probable sex and then sex actually happens seems parallel to my concern with plausibility. Theoretically, almost any two consenting adults could be erotically attracted to each other, but would the characters in this story feel that way and express it openly? If they say and so what they're thinking, will it look cheesy on the page?
Exactly! Plausibility is part of it. I'd say I'm not a 'meet a stranger and have sex with them within a few hours' type, but I've done it (back in my long ago misty past). Yet I still have a difficult time believing other people do it. That's why I generally write people with established relationships. Them getting nasty together seems much more plausible to me than two strangers.
" I can close my eyes and inhale deeply in the bakery without tasting their donuts, after all. It’s movement in the right direction, but thinking that the guy across the way has a great butt and pretty eyes too doesn’t mean you’re going to let him finger you in the glass elevator on the way up to your hotel room. (or maybe it does. I don’t judge)"
Surely there are a lot of people ready to jump on who they like and it happens easly. These kind of people don't find resistences or other wall in front of their desires.
Other people, as me, need a lot of time and a lot of little things and certain definite signs before to jump on who they like.
In this case, how many things wuold you have to write?
I find the seduction much more of a turn on than the act of sex, so "slow burners" like you strike me as much more arousing on the page.
I think that is a true erotic tension… when you want and don't want at the same time and the tremor you feel when everything is ready for your surrender and make you feel to fall on deaf ears.
Yes, I want to read about that kind of seduction, it could be without sex, but not without sensuality.