Wink, Wink, Nudge, Nudge
Today I wrote the main sex scene for my book. I have been avoiding it for days, writing around it, leaving a prominent INSERT SEX SCENE HERE message for myself on a half-blank page.
You probably think I was just too embarrassed, right? Not quite sure how to put it all down on paper? WRONG. If I could make a living at it, I would probably write erotica all the time. Like maybe for that new Harlequin/Silhouette line called Spice that will be coming (!) out in trade paperback next year as a monthly single-title release retailing for $12.95.
I am not a proponent of that so-called erotica that is really just insert tab A into slot B pornography. What I'm talking about is that full-blown (!), wrapped in ALL the senses, metaphorically spasmodic sex on paper that makes you have to turn the ceiling fan to high. The kind of literary sex that drops its phrases into your mind years, even decades later. (Thank you Anais Nin - the train scene is with me always.) So that's what I wrote, toned down for Harlequin's regular romances, of course.
And I let two people read the scene. And did they gush over the rhythmic pacing, the tactile lushness, the melodic prose? No. Both of them had issues with my single use of the word "penis." They seemed much more comfortable with some of the ridiculous euphemisms from days gone by.
(To refresh your memory or increase your archaic vocabulary, click here, but be prepared for overkill).
What is up with that? It IS a penis. That's its real name. GET OVER IT. I write gorgeous, erotic prose, filled with emotion, and people trip over penis? (My apologies if that last phrase brought a visual to mind that has you spewing Oreos through your nose.)
So I wrote the sex scene and I am happy with it and now I can get on with the cut and dried detective work of the next few chapters. Yawn. But the writing will probably go much faster and I can definitely turn off the ceiling fan for this one.
Sigh.
You probably think I was just too embarrassed, right? Not quite sure how to put it all down on paper? WRONG. If I could make a living at it, I would probably write erotica all the time. Like maybe for that new Harlequin/Silhouette line called Spice that will be coming (!) out in trade paperback next year as a monthly single-title release retailing for $12.95.
I am not a proponent of that so-called erotica that is really just insert tab A into slot B pornography. What I'm talking about is that full-blown (!), wrapped in ALL the senses, metaphorically spasmodic sex on paper that makes you have to turn the ceiling fan to high. The kind of literary sex that drops its phrases into your mind years, even decades later. (Thank you Anais Nin - the train scene is with me always.) So that's what I wrote, toned down for Harlequin's regular romances, of course.
And I let two people read the scene. And did they gush over the rhythmic pacing, the tactile lushness, the melodic prose? No. Both of them had issues with my single use of the word "penis." They seemed much more comfortable with some of the ridiculous euphemisms from days gone by.
(To refresh your memory or increase your archaic vocabulary, click here, but be prepared for overkill).
What is up with that? It IS a penis. That's its real name. GET OVER IT. I write gorgeous, erotic prose, filled with emotion, and people trip over penis? (My apologies if that last phrase brought a visual to mind that has you spewing Oreos through your nose.)
So I wrote the sex scene and I am happy with it and now I can get on with the cut and dried detective work of the next few chapters. Yawn. But the writing will probably go much faster and I can definitely turn off the ceiling fan for this one.
Sigh.
posted by Pete at 12:39 AM
6 Comments:
I recommend the penis alfredo. It comes out of the nose much easier than Oreos.
Ahahahahahahahahaha!!!
As one of the 2 readees, I have been grossly and unfairly mis-characterized. I did ooh and aah about the brilliance of that sensual, sexy, scintillating scene. And I wondered aloud if other "hairless" writers used the P word.
Oh, for crying out loud. Now I've got to explain the comments:
1) During a discussion of the "p" word, Jessica tried to change the subject and describe what she had for dinner at Carabas - unfortunately, because the "p" word was stuck in her mind, her entree de jour turned into "penis alfredo" - hmmmmmm.....
2) And before any of you think I have gone totally bald or shaved my head, "hairless" refers to the SpellCheck correction of "hairlessness" that appears every time I type in "Harlequin"
Jeez...
There'snothing wrong with the word "penis".....just depends on where you put it and how you use it!! Tee hee hee........!!!!
Now that's what I'm talking about
ooh, I concur with nancy!!!!
Post a Comment
<< Home