As the wheel of the year turns to the darkness of the shortest day then back towards the light, many of us like to pause and take stock of our lives and our writing. No doubt the past year has brought pleasant surprises, valuable lessons and perhaps some disappointments, but none insurmountable for a determined eroticist. For much of 2010, I’ve taken you along on my quest to write a second novel, and indeed I’m delighted to say I’ve made some definite progress. At the beginning of this year, my novel was little more than a daydream. Today I have a tight outline, scrappy characters who insist they will not rest until I tell their story, about 10K words of readable draft, and a steely determination that I will finish this project no matter what the fate of the finished book. Although the end is nowhere in sight, the potential humiliation of weighing in each month has assuredly spurred my journey. However, I’m at the point now where talking about my project seems to be detracting and distracting from going with the flow. Besides, there’s something about a brand-new year that seems to call for new themes, new recipes, new infusions of creative energy.

In the spirit of renewal, I’d like to invite you to year-long feast for the palate and the imagination, beginning with an appetizer of inspiration for a story and ending with a sweet finish that takes a long view of the writer’s journey from that first heady publication onward. The column will run every other month in 2011, and I will still be slipping in an update on the second novel when I have something to report, so stay tuned.

Back in October I had the honor to be part of a panel on “How to Sell Erotica” moderated by Jean Marie Stine at the Center for Sex and Culture in San Francisco (a podcast of the panel is available at the Sizzler e-books website. Although I was one of the supposed “experts” dispensing advice, I actually found I learned much from my fellow panelists, M. Christian, Blake C. Aarens and Gina De Vries. I learned even more from our attentive audience, whose enthusiasm and insightful questions about the writing life reminded me that our natural human desire to tell a story nourishes our hearts and minds like delicious food. As I prepared for the panel, I got to thinking about the various steps I take in creating a story—inspiration, first draft, editing, targeting a publisher—and realized how far I’ve come since I began writing erotica thirteen years ago.

I’ve already admitted my guilty fondness for “how to write” books, but even more for chatting with other writers about how and why they do what they do. Soon after the panel, I flashed on an idea for this year’s “Cooking Up a Storey” that made my pulse quicken—why not invite my ERWA readers over for a good meal and a down-home discussion about the craft behind the magic of fiction? In particular, I wanted to compare how I did it when I first started and how I do it now, so that beginners and veterans alike might find something of value in my literary “secrets.” (Shh, here’s a spoiler: there’s only one essential secret—Keep Writing!) At the very least, for an erotica writer, the voyeurism alone is bound to bring on at least one delicious shiver. So please, take a seat at the table and help yourself to my offering of simple appetizers—toasted nuts, sliced baguette and an assortment of cheeses, olives, and raw vegetable sticks with roasted red pepper hummus. As this fresh, new year begins, let’s settle in to talk about the seed of a fresh, new story.

Writers are often asked how they get their ideas for a story. From the time I first started writing seriously, my ideas did not emerge from any rational decision or process. Rather it was almost like magic, the proverbial muse handing me a gift. Then and now, the seed of a story is always a mystery, a question with no easy answer. A story can be sparked by an image in a magazine or a snatch of overheard conversation or a sexual practice I’ve never tried (at least before I started writing the story). One story, “The Cunt Book,” was inspired by Bob Crane’s (of Hogan’s Heroes fame) secret pornography collection. A few months ago, a friend mentioned she was going on a silent retreat and I got to thinking—what would that be like? Soon after I set a story in a silent retreat, where, according to the rules, the only communication allowed is through bodily gesture, the perfect restriction for an erotic story.

The whole universe is our endlessly generous muse, we only need pay attention, or in other words, think like a writer, to see that any setting or chance acquaintance and every desire, especially of the thwarted kind, is material. And yet not every intriguing or sexy tidbit blossoms into a rich story. It must find fertile ground in each writer’s imagination.

Even in my earliest days as a writer, I instinctively “felt” if an idea was worth pursuing, but over the years, I’ve learned to trust rather than doubt my instincts. If an idea, even the slimmest fragment of one, gets my pulse racing and my curiosity aroused, I know I have something worth developing. If a story idea genuinely turns me on physically, emotionally, and intellectually, the story itself always reflects these passions. That feeling, more than any other consideration like marketability, is what gives birth to a new piece of writing.

I’ve also come to accept that every idea that sparks something in me does not necessarily immediately go to the page. Some need longer to germinate. Thus I keep a story ideas file where I type in as much about the story as my mind immediately creates. Sometimes it’s a full plot outline, sometimes just a sentence or two. Then I let it grow at its own pace. I may go back and add more notes as they come to me over time. More than once a themed call has come along months or years later, and the germ of the perfect story lies waiting in my files. Some stories have yet to develop, but I know they’re there.

Thus inspiration for stories involves listening to your heart and watching your imagination at work to see what she does with the ingredients life provides. While I suggested earlier that ideas for stories are “out there,” I believe the rich abundance really comes from within. Straining for a story idea is usually counterproductive though. When I’m cultivating a story idea, I often just let my mind wander during the more fertile times of the day. For me that’s in the morning when I first wake up, in the shower, or while doing dishes, mowing the lawn, or taking a walk. Night owls might do their best work at 2 am, but my constitution is such that I have better luck with sunrise.

Perhaps the question most often asked of erotica writers is whether or not their steamy scenes are based on their actual sexual experiences. I always proudly, and defiantly, answer with a great big “YES,” because in all that ways that matter, my erotic stories do draw from my real life. But it would be misleading to say every stories is gussied up memoir (although a few are, but you’ll have to guess which ones!). The key difference between memoir and fiction lies in another provocative question, one that functions as a writer’s magic wand: What if?

That is, we may start with our office crush or an attractive stranger we spied on the subway or a provocative kissing game back in college, all of which are “true,” but we let our imaginations feed that little seed until it grows into a moist, dewy, irresistibly vulvular flower of an erotic story. It occurs to me that when new writers ask a veteran how he or she gets her ideas, the beginner is anticipating a battle with the dreaded writer’s block. Most writers do face fallow periods over the long term, and sometimes these are healthy breaks soon followed by a time of intense production. However, my trick to banish run-of-the-mill writerly boredom is to bring out my trusty “what if?” Those two simple words ground your story in believability, but let your imagination soar.

The seed of a story is just the beginning of a long process, but it is obviously an essential step. If an idea truly excites you, the writing itself comes easier and the reader feels your connection with your story. In my next column, I’ll discuss the basic elements every story needs and tricks to get you moving on that often scary first draft.

In the meantime, help yourself to some appetizers and let’s toast a year of creativity and discovery to come!

Inspiring the Appetite: Creating a Simple Hors d’Oeuvre Buffet

I’ve always preferred an intimate dinner party to a large gathering. After a few hectic evenings when I’ve been scurrying around the kitchen putting the finishing touches on fancy dishes I’ve made to impress, I decided that when I invite people over for dinner, the real feast is the conversation and I enjoy myself so much more if I focus on my guests and the moment. This isn’t to say I don’t want to serve tasty, “company” food, but to me a truly elegant meal is like a good short story. You do as much sweating and planning and preparation in advance as you can so the actual experience for your reader maintains the fiction I’ve conjured my creation effortlessly.

Of course, a selection of nibbles to “titillate the mouth” as the French say, is de rigeur for a special dinner. But a pleasing meal in an ordinary home doesn’t have to consist of one show-stopping course after another. I save my best cooking efforts for the main course and dessert and focus on careful shopping for a casual appetizer course. Here is a sampling of the sorts of things I have waiting on the coffee table for my guests—and you, if you stop by!—although I don’t include all of them unless it’s a larger party.

Nuts
What can be simpler than putting out some toasted nuts in a pretty little bowl for your guests to nibble on with some sparkling wine? However, simplicity makes the quality of the nuts all the more crucial. In California, fresh almonds and walnuts are fairly easy to find at this time of year, and my local market has vats of fresh tree nuts. I toast them myself in a 350 degree oven for about four minutes, then stir the nuts and toast them a few more minutes until the fragrance of their oil fills the kitchen. If you don’t have a good local source—or even if you do—I also recommend the Royal Mix (cashews, pecans, hazelnuts, Brazil nuts and almonds) from Sunnyland Farms. It comes in bags or a tin toasted, not salted, or toasted and lightly salted and either will likely elicit from your guests a look of ecstasy that suggests they’ve either found God, are having an orgasm or both. I’ve had several guests say they felt they’ve never really eaten nuts until they’ve tasted Sunnyland Royal Mix. Yes, the nuts are that good. Maybe you didn’t make them, but you chose them, and that’s all part of creating a delicious experience for your guests.

Cheese and Bread

The French serve a separate cheese course between salad and a sweet dessert, but here in the wilds of America, bread and cheese tends to be served as an appetizer. If you have a good cheesemonger (I love that word) nearby, you can ask for recommendations for a good selection to serve with your chosen beverage. I live near a place called The Cheese Board Collective, which put out an informative book on cheese with platter ideas and great bread recipes called The Cheese Board Collective Works. Janet Fletcher’s The Cheese Course: Enjoying the World’s Best Cheeses at Your Table is another useful guide with some good recipes. Some of the basic suggestions include: keep the selection small (3 or 4 different cheeses), aim for variety in appearance, texture, strength of flavor and source (goat, sheep, cow) and bringing the cheese to room temperature before serving.

Choose a crusty fresh bread from a good local bakery or make your own. If no excellent fresh bread is available, choose high quality crackers or flatbread rather than indifferent bread. Uninspiring bread is like uninspiring prose. They both leave a bad taste in your mouth.

Olives

Raised in a household where canned and pitted “ripe” black olives were the height of culinary daring, I was thrilled to discover the rich complexity of cured olives in my California foodie years. If you have an olive bar in your neighborhood, do a little preliminary tasting, then provide a variety of black and green for your guests, plus a bowl to collect the pits, which I learned from the Japanese are most elegantly dispensed with by shielding your mouth with your left hand and discreetly pulling the pit from your lips. Don’t make eye contact while doing this, although, it occurs to me, brazenly staring someone in the eye might be good edgy foreplay for food erotica!

Another appetizing use of olives is in the Provencal spread called tapenade, which consists of pureed or chopped olives, capers, anchovies and olive oil, which makes an excellent spread for your good bread.

Raw Vegetables and Dips

It seems everyone is trying to eat more healthily these days (or maybe I just hang out with “mature” types), so a tray of crudités, or fresh carrot and celery sticks, pepper strips, and cherry tomatoes, with strips of sweet jicama if you want to get exotic, will satisfy your guests while still letting them feel saintly—and thus more likely to indulge orgiastically in your decadent dessert later. Serve the veggies beautifully arranged on a tray or chip and dip platter with a dip or two. I tend to go for Haig’s roasted red pepper hummus and Baba Ghannouge (a roasted eggplant spread). Their Muhammara, a blend of walnut, pomegranate and roasted red pepper, is also a tasty dip. All of these can be homemade in advance, and there are many other good brands available in supermarkets.

Last Word

While a selection of good quality nibbles make a great introduction to a special meal, they can also make a perfect picnic in the park or by the fire, with a simple dessert of cookies or maybe some amour on the blanket or the (faux) bearskin rug.

Happy Holidays and Bon Appetit!

Donna George Storey
December 2010 – January 2011

“Cooking up a Storey” © 2010 Donna George Storey. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.

Once a wasteland stretching between my two favorite holidays, poor November has become my favorite month in recent years. To my writer’s mind, the stark austerity of the denuded trees, the rich scarlet sunsets, and the apple-crisp chill in the air all serve as a subtly titillating foreplay to the all-out sensual debauchery of the year-end festivals to come.

And as erotica writers, isn’t our business creating subtly (and not-so-subtly) titillating foreplay to be followed by all-out debauchery?

November also brings to mind our honorary European forefathers, the Pilgrims. Once seen as sexless, god-fearing folk, later scholars revealed that early European-Americans indulged in such customs as bundling, where courting couples would share the same bed to test for compatibility, which doubtless included more than pillow talk. Thus our colonial forefathers and mothers might not deserve all the blame for the Puritanical streak that lingers in our culture today.

History is much on my mind these days because one part of my novel involves a trip back to the past. Until now, I’ve followed one school of thought that suggests you just start writing your novel, then do only the amount of research necessary to give your story authenticity in the second draft. This method helps you avoid the doctoral dissertation syndrome, where you spend years researching every last detail of a topic before you feel entitled to write—if, in fact, you have any interest or energy left over to finish the job. As I have no intention of writing a book suitable for publication by an academic press, I hoped to avoid this time sink. A fiction writer doesn’t need to be the world’s expert; a few lush factual details will suffice to bring a story to life.

This approach has worked well in terms of actually producing pages of a first draft, but now I find myself at a point where I do need to do some time traveling in order to move the story along. Part of me wants to continue to “fake it,” by which I mean write scenes that work with my outline, then go back and fix any anachronisms after I do carefully focused research based on my needs. As in, if I introduce a carriage ride, I can study up on horse-drawn transportation, but won’t need to bother at all if my characters decide to walk instead. However, that Inner Voice I keep talking about is starting to nag me again. Apparently she thinks I can find valuable inspiration in research that might help me write a more vibrant first draft.

I’ve decided to listen to her this time, too, making my second novel an exercise in (hopefully) positive split personalities! The challenge will be, of course, to do the research detour without losing forward momentum. If any readers out there have suggestions for me, please don’t hesitate to contact me. (I’ll post your suggestions on the ERWA blog for the benefit of other struggling novel researchers).

And, as my crafty Inner Voice alluringly whispers, the research itself can provide fresh details and reminders of the timelessness of human desire, erotic and otherwise, that will bring history to life. To return to the Pilgrims for a moment, I want to approach research as I would a night bundling with a brawny colonial lad: enjoy the experience for what it offers, but don’t feel the need to rush to the church the next morning. Besides, I’m feeling excited about this new phase of the project, and for erotica writers—or any writer for that matter—your excitement inevitably finds its way to the page and the reader.

This particular hurdle reminds me that writing a longer work, such as a novel, has its seasonal cycles. The “year” begins with a fear of starting a huge project, which gives way to a beginner’s elation at finally getting underway. However—this has happened with both of my novels and I’ve heard it’s extremely common—fifty or so pages in, many writers hit a rocky stretch where they begin to doubt the viability of their idea. Many novels are abandoned at this point. The very first novel I wrote suffered this fate, although I later revived it with plenty of hot sex to become Amorous Woman.

Indeed the writers who push through this block go on to report the next phase is like one long year-end holiday party: a passionate immersion in the novel such that it becomes your life and takes on its own momentum. Just as we might commemorate a rare moment of cooperation between Native Americans and Pilgrims over Brussels sprouts and pumpkin pie this month, the fact that no novelist is alone in riding the ups and downs of the cycle can be a positive reminder that we can survive famine to feast again, too. So at month’s end when you sit down to your Thanksgiving feast, raise your glass to novelist forefathers and mothers who have blazed the trail and shown you can finish, in spite of self-doubt and distraction.

Speaking of fall feasts, this month I wanted to share a recipe for a dish that is the essence of autumn: red cabbage braised in red wine. I like to call it “triple red cabbage” because of the addition of some red wine vinegar. I’ve tried many red cabbage recipes over the years, and this one has more spice and less sweetness—a more “adult” or X-rated flavor, if you will—than the traditional accompaniment to roast goose. Meat eaters can enjoy this with pork; vegetarians can make it a main dish with bread and cheese on the side thanks to the protein in the chestnuts. It’s delicious hot, but I’ve also lunched on the leftovers cold. In any case, the hearty flavor and heady touch of booze provide the perfect sustenance for a crisp afternoon of erotica writing.

Bon Appetit and Write On!

XXX Red Cabbage
Adapted from Eight Weeks to Optimum Health by Andrew Weil

1 Tablespoons olive oil
1 large onion, chopped
2 large carrots, peeled and sliced
1 large red cabbage, cored & sliced 1/4″ thick
1 large Pippin or Granny Smith apple, diced
salt to taste (minimal is healthier)
1 Turkish bay leaf
1/4 t. ground cloves
1 1/2 cups dry red wine (the perfect use for Trader Joe’s bargain cooking reds)
1/4 cup red wine vinegar
1 Tablespoon light brown sugar
As much of a jar of peeled chestnuts as you like

Heat olive oil in a large pot. Add the onion and carrots and sauté over medium heat until onion is translucent. Add the cabbage and apple and mix well, then add salt to taste, the garlic, the bay leaf, cloves, wine, vinegar, and sugar. Bring to a low boil, cover and cook for about 1 hour. Remove bay leaf and correct seasoning. You may also add 1 cup of peeled chestnuts to cook in the braising liquid.

Donna George Storey
November 2010

“Cooking up a Storey” © 2010 Donna George Storey. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.

Another month has flown by and it’s time to step on the scale for my monthly novel weigh-in. Have I been a good girl this month? Well, I’ll admit, I’ve been no saint, but what use would that be for an erotica writer? On the other hand, I have generated some new prose and, more importantly, I’m definitely moving deeper into my story, to the extent that the Universe itself seems to be supplying inspiration.

For example, my novel’s protagonist is married to an older man but will suddenly find herself involved with one who is younger, a difference of thirty years. Thus far the “reality” of this was nothing more than a twist of plot in my preparatory outline. I hadn’t given the details of it much thought. Then last Friday, I walked into my yoga class to find my usual teacher—a charismatic, well-toned Santa Claus type—had arranged for a substitute, a man about thirty years younger. The new teacher had a slightly different take on the classic poses, and this made me more aware of ways to envision and enact the positions in my body. Not to mention, the younger man did some handstands and effortless flips that gave an acrobatic dazzle to a usually sedate class.

Yet I also missed the soothing familiarity of my regular teacher and was mildly annoyed he hadn’t warned us of the personnel switch. Then, about halfway through the class it hit me—this is just like my novel! My heroine will experience this same unsettling change with her lovers, in a more intimate way than I did of course, but now I could be her in a more visceral way as I registered the differences between mellow maturity and the edgy energy of youth.

That’s when I knew I’d reached a new level of engagement. There’s a point in every longer piece of writing—be it dissertation or novel—when everything in your life suddenly becomes relevant to your project. Halloween, the fiction writer’s favorite holiday, is another example. Forget the cheap candy, ever since I can remember, my favorite part of October was dressing up and trying on another identity, just as I’m doing in my novel. Yet this year I’m more keenly aware that hiding myself behind a costume actually reveals something about me that I don’t usually show to the world.

Dressing as a witch or ghoul helps us get in touch with our shadow, of course, but even if the connection isn’t direct, the choice of alter ego itself speaks. When I decided to be “Melanie” from Gone With the Wind or Anne Boleyn back in my elementary school days, I was also showing my girlish attraction to the romance of history. In later years I’ve gone for a sari, a Korean hanbok, an Austrian dirndl and a Venetian carnival get-up—all but an open announcement of my international Wanderlust.

In the cool-eyed, rational phase of outlining my plot and developing character sketches, my protagonist was most definitely “make believe.” Her job, her family and romantic history, her looks, her sexual preferences were, in factual terms, very different from mine. And yet, now that I’ve slipped into her shoes and begun to live her life out scene by scene, I feel us growing closer. I can’t quite say whether I’m becoming more like her or she’s becoming more like me. In any case, our moments of communion have taught me a few things about my fantasies and desires I don’t always see in “real life.” Thus, while tricking my reader with my fiction, I’m really treating them with an intimate glimpse into the real me.

Talk about scary.

While I’ve never written an erotic story that is 100% autobiographical—120% is the most I’ve managed—I will admit that my readers know more about my erotic self than the majority of people who’ve actually had sex with me. Now and then, that thought still makes me feel shy, even tempted to hide myself behind more veils of make-believe. But I quickly realize that tactic is futile. Every story, every image, every word speaks of the writer’s sensibility. As an avid reader, I’ve long been aware of the irony that I seek deeper truths about the human heart in fiction. But only recently have I realized that even when a writer is all dressed up in her characters’ clothes and fantasies, s/he is essentially naked.

Accordingly, for one (very) brief moment, I toyed with the idea of going naked on Halloween, my naughty parts modestly covered with a flowing, long-haired wig, so that when I was asked if I were Lady Godiva, I could reply, instructively, “No, I’m a writer.” If you found this idea scandalous, I assure you I quickly decided I’m too busy with my novel to shop for such a wig. If that decision disappoints, there’s always next year when I might dare to show an even braver and bolder side to the world than my current story does now.

After all, the writing life is nothing if not an unpredictable adventure.

As cooler weather descends, our bellies crave warming foods—especially true for naked writers—so I’ll leave you with a recipe for a filling dish that mingles a sweet and tender winter squash with sturdy grain and manly legumes. Bon appetit and may this Halloween reveal new and fascinating facets in your life and your writing!

A Very Revealing Barley, Butternut Squash and Black Bean Ménage à Trois
(Serves 6; adapted and corrupted from a recipe in Prevention, February 2005)

1 cup barley
1 14 oz. can chicken or vegetable broth
1 Tablespoon olive oil
2 leeks, white and light green parts only, thinly sliced
2 cups chopped butternut squash (1 small or 1/2 medium)
3 Tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
1 15 oz. can black beans, rinsed and drained
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 Tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

Cook barley in broth according to package directions, add water to broth if necessary. Meanwhile heat oil in large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Add leeks and squash and cook, stirring occasionally until slightly softened and lightly browned, about 10 minutes. Add a Tablespoon of water if the vegetables seem dry and half of the parsley and cook 2-3 minutes longer. Transfer vegetables to a large bowl. Add barley, black beans, salt, remaining parsley, lemon juice and pepper and stir to combine. Serve warm or let cool to room temperature—it’s delicious either way.

Donna George Storey
October 2010

“Cooking up a Storey” © 2010 Donna George Storey. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.