I mean seriously.
This is just a tiny observation, but I always smile every time I see a story mention “a glistening bead drop of pre-come” because that line appears in almost every other story I read. I guess it’s because there aren’t that many ways to describe pre-come without getting abstract or flowery, but it’s always there.
I’m not particularly turned on by the idea of rivers of pre-come which just seems sort of gross, but I think describing arousal is good. A drop is small enough to be subtle, but it’s just used so much that I think it’s turning cliché.
I just found this list of old-timey words for sex. My favorite item: amorous congress.
I’m of the school of thought that all the things that you see writers doing in movies (smoking, doing drugs, fucking, writing in cafes, drinking lots of coffee, writing late at night, drinking whiskey, writing on a typewriter, etc.) are all the exact opposite of what you should be doing if you want to be an effective writer. HOWEVER there is one exception (and one caveat.)
That exception is music. Music, for me, is essential because it puts me in the mood but more practically it drowns out all the very unsexy noises around me. Are there dogs barking? I can’t hear them. Are people fighting upstairs? Can’t hear them. Is someone listening to NPR really loud? Exactly. I can’t hear them if I’ve got something playing.
The caveat is that the music has to be music that doesn’t have lyrics because otherwise I find myself getting too distracted by what the singers are saying. It’s like trying to count while someone is yelling random numbers at you. For this reason I listen to jazz and classical music which already have the added benefit of being supremely classy — something all erotica writers should strive for. ♦
I was at the gym early this morning doing cardio when began to observe my own thoughts and I began to wonder if the personal trainers ever hooked up with the foxy yoga instructors inside the physical therapy room. Then something dawned on me: writing Erotica has changed the way that I daydream.
Years ago I would typically reflect on something different like (for example) whether or not David Duchovny would make a good James Bond. Now I reflect on whether or not Sean Connery’s James bond would seduce Fox Mulder while working hard to crack a case involving terrorists collaborating with aliens.
But, then again, who hasn’t had those thoughts?
As many of you have found out by now I love writing smut. I like the characterization, I like exploring taboo subjects, and I love love love really sinking my teeth into something explicit. However there’s something about writing smut that I really dislike and that’s naming my characters.
Often it’s a tossup between giving them erotica-y names like Aiden and Silver or giving them authentic names like Beck and Steve. Often I just walk around my study and I steal the first names of authors off books which gives me names like Naomi and Neil, but that’s often unsatisfactory too.
I think I’m just going to start taking names from spam, but then I might end up writing erotica like this:
“Oh Donotreply,” said Ngabi Nateme. “You could change. I know that your past is dark and murky and full of international trysts, but now that I have your child you could settle down. You could love.“
Donotreply turned his head slightly and stared into the middle distance over the water.
“Could I?” He asked. “I told myself decades ago that I would never change, that I would stay true to myself.”
Nateme held herself close to Donotreply.
“You could,” she said. “With one weird, old, trick.”
So I just found this article which talked about why students should study pornography in college and I absolutely agree, but I’m also astonished that there’s even a controversy about this.
There’s this really weird aspect to a ton of moral panics that seems to assume that people are robots and that things like pornography (or Harry Potter, or marijuana) will turn regular people into zombies.
College students are adults. They can handle cocks and pussies and buttholes and, just admit it, people like those things because they’re fun and sexy and not because the great Satan of college education has brainwashed those students.
So I found this erotic thesaurus. I don’t usually use them when I write, but sometimes it’s good to use them to get just the right word you’re looking for.
I also found this thing right here. It’s pretty good if you’re looking for extra words for cock and ass. (Two major problems that reviewers have pointed out before.)
If you want to write better then it’s always a good idea to do a little experiential research. Go out and really examine the subject that you’re trying to describe. I’ve been tempted, lately, to post an ad on craigslist that would read something like this:
I’m a voyeur – early thirties Korean lady in good shape. I’m looking for two gay men who I can watch while taking notes. I also reserve the right to smoke. I hate smoking, but it seems like the right thing to do while watching people. Send me an E-mail if this seems like something you’d be interested in.
I expect that someone will respond and we’ll meet up, have an adult conversation, and then they’ll lead me back to their apartment where they’ll begin to undress.
“WHOA, WHOA,” I’ll say. “What the fuck are you doing? I just said that I wanted to watch.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean just go about doing your business and I’ll watch,” I’d say while reclining on their couch. I imagine that at this point I’m lighting a cigarette and probably trying my best to stifle a cough. I’m not inhaling the smoke. It’s just sitting in my mouth.
“Tell him that you love him,” I’d say while poking the burning cherry of my cigarette at them.
“I, I, love you,” one would say to the other. Then one would pause and turn to me.
“This isn’t hot at all. This isn’t what I was expecting in the ad you posted – ”
“Now get off him and wash some goddamn dishes. This place is filthy. Go about your normal routine. Do some cleaning. Turn on the radio and turn to the local college radio. I want you to try to sing along to what’s playing.”
I imagine that, at this point, the two would be recoiling in terror.
“Now you! Go get the mail and complain about your job. Do it!”
At that point I think the two guys would probably get a little too creeped out and they’d kick me out for being a little too weird. I was just trying to get some source material. It’s too bad nobody “gets” me.