Vixenwriter

I am finally finished with revisions on Undercover. They were pretty light but I wanted to be sure they were as good as possible so I was extremely careful with them. Whew. Now I’m on to a last polish of Sensual Magic, which is due to Harlequin April 1, that shouldn’t take more than a day or so, and finally I can get back to Unexpected. Yay!

I have to say, I got pretty sweaty when I read back over the sex scenes in Undercover. It’s hard when you’re writing something and then editing the first time. You’re very close to the book so you can’t really gauge. But reading it over again, some months later I was like, “wow!” I think this is the hottest book I’ve ever written but also, I was pleased to see the emotional depth in places too. I feel better about it and I already liked it before. Sweet relief.

I ordered some goodies for RT for our Love Shack reader party on Friday (don’t miss it folks!) This party will have goodie bags filled with excellent swag that’ll be exclusive to the party including books from the participating authors. I also ordered postcards for Undercover and Vegas and they turned out so pretty.

I wanted to take a moment to say thank you to Frauke, the person behind the creation of this website (and also the hosting service for it, Janus Portal Hosting) and a great many other websites you you see around. As well as the person who designs my bookmarks, my RT ads and other various graphics like business cards etc. She is truly wonderful. I will give her a few elements and she always turns them into something wonderful. I’ve been a client of hers for several years now and I’m always just so awed by her talent. Plus she helps me with technical stuff when I just can’t figure it out. She always takes pity on me and with good humor. So thank you, Frauke - truly, you make my job so much easier and you do it with style.

Totally UNconnected to any of the above - did you know there was Fraggle Rock fic? I sat in a corner and rocked for a while once I found that out. And then I saw a guy in a furry suit with black leather assless chaps. Don’t ask where I found it. But, well just don’t ask. I think I may have bad dreams.

Now, I’m off to catch up on the stuff I let slide today to finish up with Undercover. Happy Hump Day!!!

In closing, to combat bad dreams - my dreamboat, let me show you him…

Marcus Patrick

I usually read a lot. Several books a week along with writing but at the moment I’m working on three different projects at three different stages of the process (editing, revising and writing) so I’m so busy I’m not able to spend as much time as I like reading other people’s books.

Anyway, I’ve picked up two books recently where I’ve just had to put them down. The thing is, one person’s wallbanger is another person’s keeper. I totally believe this is true. There are books I hear folks raving about all the time but when I read them I just wasn’t engaged at all.

Here comes the part where I ramble about sex in books and a great many things I find myself annoyed by…

One thing I notice a lot is how sex is used in a book. Now not everyone writes erotica or erotic romance. Not everyone puts big sex scenes in books and that’s fine too. But one of my biggest peeves is how authors will toss in multiple, totally gratutitious sex scenes in a book. I don’t know why they do it. Perhaps it’s because sex sells and people think that more is better. I don’t know. Sometimes, more IS better. Sometimes that’s what the book calls for. Sometimes not so much.

A sex scene is like any other scene in a book. It should propel the story in some direction. If it’s just filler, it’s useless and it reads that way. Put from my perspective - it’s a wasted opportunity for great character interaction. Sex is rich with opportunity for an author! If you use it, use it wisely. If I skim past a sex scene, it’s not really motivational for the characters. Can I skip past large blocks of other scenes with the same effect? If so, same thing - you’re not utilizing your words.

There are authors who don’t have long detailed sex scenes but who understand the complexity and importance of a sex scene. It’s not the level of graphic words, it’s not page count - it’s content and purpose. Look at Nora when she writes as JD Robb - when Eve and Roarke have sex there’s a reason for it. That’s why the physical chemistry between them resonates with readers so deeply. Roberts understands how to use sex effectively even though she’s not writing 24 page sex scenes. There are authors who do write long, detailed sex scenes who DO know how to use them effectively (several of them blog right here at The Bradford Bunch) Sadly, I see a lot of stuff that mistakes quantity for quality and the use of certain words as shortcuts to try and seem sexy.

I’m not an expert more than anyone else is. I write sex. I like to write sex and so perhaps when I read, I see it differently than other readers do. I’m sure I’m far more nitpicky than some people can be. For instance - I don’t care how gargantuan his penis is, it’s not going into the heroine’s womb. The head of a penis can bump the cervix which can be painful or pleasurable depending on the woman, the time of the month and hell, the day or level of arousal. But the womb is closed, penises do not go into them. Now, there are times when a woman’s uterus contracts - often during orgasm and she feels THAT during intercourse, but that’s not a penis in her uterus.

Also - some things are just plain painful. If an author is going to use backdoor play in her story - can she please avoid scenes without lube or (cringe) double dipping? It’s not safe to have the fingers/toys or a penis go from anus to vagina.

In many scenes a little goes a long way. As in - just because you have him dangling her upside down from the side of a building, singing the national anthem with sparklers in his ears while attempting four movements from the Kama Sutra, doesn’t mean it’s “hot” - no, sometimes it makes me cock my head and wonder just how bendy any one human can be. Most people aren’t double jointed.

And I was just discussing this with someone who will remain nameless earlier today - what is with the gagging scenes during oral? I’ve noticed this as a trend in porn too. Maybe I’m alone in this feeling but it’s not sexy. First of all, have people actually gagged? Because it’s not a pleasant thing. Second of all, while I’m sure a great many people have triggered the gag reflex while giving oral sex, it’s usually not on purpose. Sounding like one is about to vomit doesn’t ring my bell and I tend to wonder about the dude whose bell it does ring. Again, this is just *my* perspective and I could totally be wrong and gagging could be the sexiest thing since Gerard Butler in a leather kilt.

Anyway, I’ve just finished a huge edit/revision so I’m braindead. The best you get from me today is a ramble. What are your pet peeves with sex in books?

BTW - I’ll take the folks who reply and toss the names into random.org and choose a winner for an ARC of Standoff - you have until 2/10 at noon pacific to reply!

I’ve been watching a discussion about words used in erotic romance and erotica. I’m a word whore, I admit it up front and I do believe that words have a unique sort of power to impact what you read. Not “shock” value but in making choices to evoke a certain feel.

In truth, what the choices mean to me may not mean the same to other people when they read. But if I spend all my time thinking about that, I’m not writing the story as it should be written. So I don’t. It’s not that I don’t care, it’s that if a scene calls for “cunt” I’m going to use it. If a scene calls for “cock” I’m going to use it.

I saw a comment - boiled down it was something like “the character wouldn’t have considered what happened fucking” And hmm. That’s fascinating to me on a few levels. Firstly, I love that the book or story resonated so much with that person she felt like she could say that and truly believed it. That’s powerful storytelling, IMO (and it wasn’t about my book so I’m not complimenting myself here, LOL). Secondly, it points to the power of language and words because I don’t see “fucking” as a bad thing or a worthless thing or as a demeaning thing. But some people do, which means the power of the term is watered down by generational/cultural/gender/whatever perspectives. At the same time, what can you do as an author? The author could have said “intercourse” which seems clinical to me. Or she could have said “making love” which is, IMO too soft for what happened between the characters.

There are times when a word can change the scene drastically and yes, that’s using words for a certain sort of shock value. Not in the way it’s meant most often, but words, when used right, can evoke strong feeling.

I didn’t use to use the word cunt. I grew up in a time when it was bandied about as a gender epithet. Admittedly the word comes with baggage. And yet, over time I’ve come to use it in certain scenes because I think the scene calls for it. I don’t actually think only the man should use it, quite the opposite, I’m far more comfortable when my female characters own it for themselves. Still, I know the word carries a lot of reaction - negative and positive. Still? I think it’s a great word. It’s hard. It’s sharp, nearly feral in a sense and sometimes sex is that way.

Anyway, I’m babbling but I’m working on so many things right now I wanted to get my thoughts down! What do you all think about words - strong words like cunt and cock? Do they totally put you off to the point where you don’t read that book or author? Do you skip them? Do you like them?

Rachel Kramer Bussel is a very smart woman. She’s one of my favorite commentators and I think she often has so much of importance to say on issues of sex and sexuality and in a far more coherent and cogent fashion than most people. (Also, she loves cupcakes as much as I do, what’s not to like?) To wit - she wrote a piece that appeared on Alternet yesterday deconstructing Carol Platt Liebau’s book, Prude: How the Sex-Obsessed Culture Damages Girls (and America, Too!)

I say deconstructing because it’s more than a review, Kramer Bussel takes the huge wad of hyperbole and pulls it apart, addressing it bit by bit. Sadly, this sort of journalistic exploration of ideas is rare. Far rarer than the consistent conflation of several concepts into one terribly skewed point.

I think what bothers me so much is the idea from those like Platt Liebau, that sexuality is a one size fits all concept. When in fact, it is not. What I as an adult feel is appropriate for myself is not what I’d consider appropriate for my children.

This statement, which Liebau endorses and goes running with, is exactly where most such books and pundits fail. Instead of simply advocating for chastity and/or abstinence, they must cross the line to insist that their way is the Only Way. The rest of us are just coarse and vulgar sluts who are ruining it for those who want to wait (not an exact quote, but, I believe, an accurate paraphrasing).

What’s especially sad about this polarization is that plenty of feminists, even of the “do-me” variety, also care passionately about young women’s futures. We want women to succeed and gain access to all the educational, political, and workplace opportunities they can. However, I don’t think any of us should have to sacrifice our sexuality in order to do so.

Liebau pits those of us who are sex-positive against those who favor abstinence until marriage, and I’m still not sure why we should have to pick a side. I’m not anti-abstinence or anti-abstinence education. I’m against abstinence-only education, which leaves those who are already exploring sex, or are simply curious about it, at a complete loss. But reading Prude, you’d think we have armies of sex-positive feminists like me recruiting teenage gurks to forget their homework, whip off their clothes, and get busy with their boyfriends. If anything, I’d rather give them vibrators so they can learn about pleasuring themselves first.

It’s precisely this sort of “One True Way” perspective I find so distressing from those who seek to censor and condemn sexuality and those of us who use it as a medium.

I write sex. I love to write sex and I speak with women every day who enjoy reading the material I and my fellow authors create. Women who come from a huge cross section of cultures, ideals, economic strata and educational background. Women who are devoutly religious, women who aren’t. Women like me with kids and a husband, single women, gay, straight, bi. College students, college professors, secretaries, clerks at convenience stores, stay at home moms. My point being, all kinds of women like to read about sex. And good for them.

As for those women who don’t want to read about sex? Well, good for them too. No one should have to read erotic fiction, or inspirationals, or sci fi, or fantasy, or anything else they don’t like.

Adult women should read what pleases them without guilt, without shame and the idea of returning to a point in our history where women who embraced the beauty of their sexuality were thought of as whores while those who embraced guilt were the “good women” is one that scares me.

I consider myself to be sex positive. I also consider myself to be a good mother and a good member of my community. There are things I don’t include in the culture of my family. My books are not for children, my children understand mom writes and what she writes is for adults. It’s not a difficult concept really and if my six year old can grasp it, I’m sure adults can too.

In other words, I’m not thrilled about the commercialization of sex and how young people are prodded by media culture to be mini-adults at 7. So, um, as a mom I make sure my daughter doesn’t wear hot pants with “slut” on the butt. At the same time, she plays with barbies and adores pricesses. She’s a kid, she’s got it hard enough when mom reads Bust magazine and won’t let them play with Bratz.

However, the standards one applies to children are not those we should apply to adults. And also? The standards I apply to MY children aren’t necessarily what you’d apply to yours so please do me the same favor.

But I don’t pull any punches when I’ll say up front that I believe erotic romance and spicier sex scenes in romance to be revolutionary for women. I don’t apologize for that because I believe sex should be something women enjoy without shame. That doesn’t mean I think teenagers should be blowing every boy who comes along and the suggestion is insultingly preposterous.

The truth of the matter is, these issues are not black and white. There is no “one true way” and that’s not coming from an “anything goes” perspective either.

Putting down something I’ve written and being tingly and flushed. I mean, wow. Writing sex is an interesting process. Sometimes a scene just flows from you, it connects to something deep inside you and as you write it, you’re really connected and involved. Those scenes I think tend to really jump off the page.

But not every scene is like that in a book. Sometimes the scenes it takes longest to write are the ones I read back on later and they make me sweaty! Other times the scene is one I like (or it wouldn’t be there) but while it serves a purpose in the story, it doesn’t particularly move me one way or the other.

Anyway, last night I re-read Battlefront - this is something I do with any project I sell on partial and then pick up later to write. I have to get back into the book and just having written several books and novellas back to back, I needed to find my way into the story again.

The partial ends on an emotional point. A breakthrough emotionally for Sera after an argument she has with Ash. They’ve been apart for ten years, it’s complicated and I’ll talk more about that later. Anyway, they have sex. And the book has BDSM elements. If you’ve read my BDSM writing you’ll know I like to get to the stuff in between people’s heads and emotions rather than just have a few whacks on the ass and call it a day. So essentially, this scene is about walls coming down and true power exchange. And i’m so happy I can look back at it months later and love the scene!

Now, to start writing! And Brandt has just come in so wheeee!