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Sexytime!: A writer’s dilemma
All writers have a sticking point.
Some can’t figure how to end a story, or how to begin it. Some get tripped up by the niceties of grammar, spelling and punctuation (no, spell-check does not cure all ills). Some have trouble coming up with compelling characters or realistic dialogue.
This month, I’m helping to run a series of workshops offered by the Round Hill Writers’ Group, and we’ve tried to address these kinds of things as we go. It’s a process, and the only remedies are to read, write and have others critique your work to see if you’re getting the job done.
Read, because the more good (and bad) examples you see in print, the better you get at recognizing what works and what doesn’t. Write, because it’s what you should be doing anyway and the more you work with the elements that vex you, the better feel you get for ways to deal with them.
But some things will not get better. Some things are darn nigh impossible.
For your consideration, my own little bugaboo: the dreaded sex scene.
Come on now … I know there are many of you out there with a memory from your wonder years. You got your hands on a book with “good parts” – maybe from a friend or an older sibling.
I seem to remember my sister leaving a copy of “Our Bodies, Ourselves” lying around our house years ago. This is a work of non-fiction, a book that is still periodically updated and is credited with helping along the women’s health movement of the late ‘60s and ‘70s.
But it is also, shall we say, graphic, in its depictions of women and men and the ancient dance between them. And as a junior high schooler – naïve, infinitely impressionable – I was fascinated with it, much as other generations have been with “Lady Chatterley’s Lover” or the works of Anais Nin.
Nowadays, of course, sex scenes in books are fairly commonplace. I can’t give you examples of really good ones for a couple of reasons: 1) this is a family website, and 2) I don’t really know any. I tend not to gravitate toward books that have those kinds of things in them.
It’s not that I’m a prude. I’m not really offended by this kind of thing. It’s just that I find them … well, a little comical, and embarrassing. This is one of those things that I think many writers probably do well, and others certainly enjoy. I just can’t figure out a way to tackle it.
I applaud the efforts of budding authors in this area. It’s a bold move. And sometimes, when it comes to others critiquing your work, it takes a certain leap of faith.
A few years ago, I was taking a writing workshop. We’d bring in things we’d written – short stories, articles, or in my case, chapters from my book in progress. There was this older guy in my class, very genial, nearing retirement age. He was an engineer type in a very technical field, a husband, a father, a grandfather, who wanted above all else to write erotic romance.
Oooh-kay … like I said, a bold move on his part. This guy would bring chapters of his own book in progress to class, enclosed in a plain brown wrapper.
Now, I couldn’t tell you if it was good or bad – I’m not the one to judge that kind of writing. But, I gave him serious points for sharing this stuff with an instructor and four or five other students – all women. With that kind of chutzpah, I was rooting for him.
As for me, I’m just going to have to learn to live with this literary shortcoming – rest assured there are a number of others. I’ll work on those instead.
It isn’t just the humor or the blush factor. I genuinely think that implied actions can be just as compelling as graphic depictions, especially when they’re not the main point of the plot, but rather, exist to tell you something about the characters or move the story from point A to point B.
Sometimes, leaving things to the reader’s imagination is the way to go.
Anyway, that’s my story, and I’m sticking to it. # # #
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