No, I did not have sex at eight in the morning today. Get your minds out of the gutter.
This should really have been a chapter update for ‘Desconocido,’ and not a ramble, right?
But, I needed a distraction, because for the last few days I was furiously battling with the voices in my head and trying not to play favorites with them.
In case you were wondering, I’m writing three stories at present. Don’t ask why I indulge in such insanity.
You must never, ever ask me why.
And because of that (the stories, not the insanity) all the characters in each one of those tales are pain in the ass, attention seeking whores who want to be written.
So, I left them to battle it out on their own in a free-for-all fight with weapons of their choice and no rules to follow. Not that any of them follow rules except their own.
Unfortunately the characters in ‘Desconocido’ didn’t win first place. But, that sometimes happens to
fresh meat new characters in new stories.
They’re not fully seasoned you see.
If you’re shifting about on your seat right now thinking “WTF is she talking about? Who talks to her and has she seen a shrink yet?” – Then all I can say is that every character is like a real person in my head. With real voices.
But, because I write them out and make them have sex with each other, it can’t be called schizophrenia.
And speaking of sex. Don’t you just hate it when sex scenes are crappy in stories?
I’ve written a lot of sex scenes. Some good, some bad, some which later made me go ‘WTF was THAT?’ etc. But one thing I’ve come to realize is that word usage in sex scenes is limited. And I hate that.
There are your usual words like hot, wet, hard, soft, fast, moan, suck, stroke, lick, fuck, and so on.
Also, there are words which while I’m reading I notice are either over-used to death, some which are just tossed in for the sake of description, and some which are downright wrong and laugh/cringe worthy.
Overdone and/or dressed up for nothing descriptions in sex scenes can become one big mess and the scene starts to resemble vomit. When I’m reading, it drives me to distraction.
Let me show you how.
He dipped his iron-shaft into her intoxicating honey-pot.
Tony Stark meets Winnie the Pooh’s twin sister.
The nectar of her core was as sweet as the juice of a grape.
Oh purpley, purple prose! I’m betting she ate six bowls of grapes before he tasted her. Otherwise, she’d taste different. And when you say “core” I think “apples.”
He jammed his member into her with repeated force and the bed rattled. Her walls closed around him and she screamed with pleasure.
And her ovaries flew out of her mouth. His member was happy albeit a bit soft now. And I just felt claustrophobic with all those closing in walls.
Her perky breasts were perfect and he stared in speechless wonder.
Perky is not perfect. Perfect is perfect. Perky is perky, and not all breasts are perky. Also, not all breasts are perfect. Men deal with that fact better than we do.
Good lord! If there was ever something named with absolutely no thought in mind. It was the penis.
Just like a starving little pussy wanting a saucer of cream.
He enjoyed a mouthful of her sensitive neck.
Necks are a delicacy. And a substitute for mouthwash.
He took her all night, brutally.
First he took her to the park, then he took her to a movie, after that he took her shopping. It was tiring.
Let me clarify here that I have at some point ventured into the mad world of metaphors when writing out a sex scene. (I was barely out of the gates of my mental writing convent then).
Once I even described the entire sex act as a storm.
I don’t know what I had against storms at the time… Or words. But it happened and I’ve never forgiven myself.
What I’ve learned though is that if you’re not comfortable with sex, or presenting it in written form, it’s nearly impossible to write it. But, if you push ahead anyway (pun intended) and write it while you’re squirming with shame/guilt/your last 50 Shades of Shit never-to-be-read-again memory on the inside. Then you can be sure it will show itself in the scene more than the sex itself. Very clearly.
A lot of people are uncomfortable with sex, or even the idea of it. Hell, most of us come from nations devoted to only telling us how wrong and sinful the very thought of anything physical is. It can make the best of us squirm in dismay if we come across it. And, writers fall into that category too. They’re not exempt from discomfort because they clack out words to a story with sex in it.
Some writers will hide behind purple prose and dress up that sex scene with so much mushy detail, it’ll make your head spin (like me when I penned the hurricane of raging thundering passion).
Humans are more inclined to hide behind silken veils than they dare to show themselves as mortals with needs. Another lesson drilled into us from the squirmy societies we belong to. Dress it up, but don’t strip it off. If you do, then you’re a disgraceful slut.
Some writers will approach sex scenes in a more businesslike manner, and at the end of the scene you’ll feel as if you just finished reading an instruction manual from Ikea.
He touched her breast. She closed her eyes. He put his penis inside her vagina. She clutched the sheets. He humped her harder. She had an orgasm. He had an orgasm. She sighed. He rolled off her and decided to just jerk off next time to get more bang for his buck.
And then there is the current rapey sex culture liberally added into love stories which always makes me gnash my teeth.
If the heroine is screaming/whimpering/whispering/pleading “No.” all through the sex scene, and the hero continues anyway till she “submits” – It’s rape, not “hot sex.”
Oh and if her helplessness turns him on? Rapist! Because you know, rape is all about the control.
Don’t confuse that with consensual sex where she agrees to be helpless so he can play macho dick (and no, if the heroine is married to the hero it doesn’t mean she signed over her body to him to do with it as and when he pleases.)
Glorifying rape in romance stories is just pathetic. Glorifying rape in any form is pathetic, period.
Phew. I haven’t been up on that soapbox of mine for a while. Feels good.
So, back to sex scenes.
Oh wait! No.
Voices in my head again, so write I must (because they’re being polite now and saying please.)
Thank you for stopping by, and for being so patient (AND for reading all the above drabble). I plan to write more about this topic in the future, so may the gods help you poor things.
‘Desconocido’ update coming soon. I’ll try for today or tomorrow at the latest if possible.