Susan, I have read, but don't as a rule usually read, stories with much erotica. Some of what I've read has been good (to me). I feel self-conscious when I try to write sex. I'm not sure why.
I'm new to both fic and feedback-giving, so I'm a little self-conscious about that as well, but let me tell you what I liked.
I liked that you were frank in the telling, without making the sex scene either clinical, or unromantic. I liked that the sex had meaning, but you didn't take yourself too seriously in the telling of it. The grin and the laughter made it for me.
t TMI
I love when dh and I end up laughing during sex, as long as it isn't act-ending laughter, and even then...
t /TMI
I liked that you told it from Buffy's POV (I may still be a little B/S sex gun-shy, I'm not sure, so it may be that having it told in from her POV makes it clear to me she's in it out of choice, not resignation). And I like what you told my from her POV. I liked that you had her thinking. I'm always thinking during sex - I mean the thoughts are usually act or emotion-centric, but, you gave more than just the 'his turgid manhood' stuff, which to me is just not good sex-scene writing.
The Joy of Writing Sex deals with writer discomfort/awkwardness in writing sex scenes. It's honest about the fact that most of us do have problems writing it, at least in part because if you think about it, sex is awfully silly when you try to describe it.
I write a fair amount of sex, and those are still the parts that take me the longest to get something approaching right.
I actually write almost no sex, because I tend to prefer it implied to described. I am as to writing sex as I am to choosing clothing: I think a hint of something hidden is a lot more enticing than the average J-Lo "Look! You can count my pubic hairs!" outfit.
But sometimes nothing will do but good hot porny porn.
Speaking of, another of my random fandoms has attacked me. For anyone who watches Alias and is into slash, it's here.
I liked that you were frank in the telling, without making the sex scene either clinical, or unromantic. I liked that the sex had meaning, but you didn't take yourself too seriously in the telling of it. The grin and the laughter made it for me.
Well, the two things I've concluded about my Philosophy of Sex Scenes, so far are that 1) I'm determined to find a way that's frank and non-purple but still sexy/romantic, and 2) rather than focusing on a play-by-play (which has its place, but I don't think I'm the writer for it), I try to think in terms of what the sex means for one or both characters, and base what I include and exclude on that. So maybe I'm on the right track with that--cool!
It's honest about the fact that most of us do have problems writing it, at least in part because if you think about it, sex is awfully silly when you try to describe it.
Yep. And I'm furthered hampered by the ghost of my Baptist grandmother and the worry over what my friends and family will think when they learn I'm writing this stuff. Which, in some ways, helped me determine my philosophy above--I tried to come up with an answer for the inevitable questions I'm going to get about why I'm writing this, and what I kept coming back to was, "Sex is a part of life. If I left it out entirely, I'd lose what it means for my characters and the way they grow and change."
I saw your conversation about some of this thought process affecting your approach to your novel, (discussion was in Bitches - I think) but wasn't present when it was going on, Susan.
I think I shy away from writing sex, in part, because of my beliefs, but I don't think it needs to be taboo, because of exactly what you said above. Because I do think it has a place in literature, but *I* need to write it in a way that feels right for me, but don't know what that is, I just end up avoiding it, instead. I very much liked what Betsy had to say at the time, about God giving you the gift to write, or your imagination (not sure on the wording).
Also, sometimes some of the sexiest (to me) scenes I've ever watched or read, had no overt sex. I love old time movies, that fade to black and leave it to my imagination. But deb's right, sometimes the story needs a sexy sex scene.
Guh, Dana. I think I'm almost glad I'm not familiar with the Alias cast, because I can sort of cast it randomly. Hot. Hothothot.
She moved so readily in this world, but then she’d had the best training. The club stank of sweat and beer, must and clove cigarettes. Mmmm, she wanted one. So many little vices she’d learned to indulge since they’d finally begun sending her out on assignments. Giles got so incensed when she mixed Laphroig with Coke that time that he skipped the lecture and taught her how to drink scotch properly. Respect for scotch overriding any paternal instincts. The DJ effortlessly slipped across decades and brought “A Forest” into the mix.
A pretty Berliner boy approached her, hair flopping across his forehead just so. He’d seen a lot of anime before he’d been turned. She checked his wrist and saw the celtic cross brand she was looking for. Matched the Codex – and that was their initiation rite. The lights strobed and the music pumped and she nodded as he lead her onto the dance floor. So fun when Faith took her dancing in L.A., all those scuzzy industrial-goth clubs. She let herself go in the music, feeling her body. She’d always loved to dance. Yet she never let down. Nobody was ever going to sneak up on her again. Always aware, always conscious, still…The music was good. Good to be in her body, dancing with this sly little vampire that figured her for a treat.
They walked off the dancefloor at the segue, heading for the chill out room. He allowed her to press him up against the wall, whispering to her in German. She surprised him as she muttered something filthy in a passable Bavarian accent. Wes had been a good teacher. They all had. She ran a hand under his shirt, feeling his thin body, the other hand unbuckling his belt, loosening the jeans. Her fingers slid under the waistband, and just as he went into vampface the cross hit his cock.
“Gott!”
“Got your attention then?” she asked. “Tell me something nice.”
He gasped and tried to writhe away but she had him effectively pinned in the corner. Leverage and pain, that’s all she needed. She raised an eyebrow. “Any compliment will do.”
“Your hair…is very shiny,” he whispered.
“I’ve heard that. Tell you what, I’ll settle for your sire’s name, address and the massacre your nest is planning.” She bared her teeth, smiling and pressed harder. She could smell him burning. She loved that part. “My research indicates that you’ll need a fair amount of blood for this raising.”
“He’ll kill me!”
She inhaled with a stagey look of pleasure. “It’s burning,” she told him matter of factly.
“Michel…The new moon….the cathedral catacombs….”
“That’ll do, prig,” she said, and a spring-driven stake shot out of her sleeve dusting him.
Her partner rose from the couch where he’d been following the scene.
“The rig looks good,” he said.
“Did you see how I did that all cool and Bond-villain?” she fairly bounced on her heels and couldn’t stop grinning. “Oh yeah, Xander broke it down about five times and put enough oil on it to lubricate a seminary.” She patted the stake-driver under her sleeve affectionately.
“Effective and…” his nostrils twitched “grossly aromatic.”
“Buffy told me once about putting a cross down a vamp’s mouth. I just tried to think how Faith would do it.” She paused and grimaced, which in no way distorted the unreal beauty of her features. At 22 she was probably the most beautiful woman in the club. “Am I a freak?”
“Without question. I’m disturbed to say that I really liked it.”
