Reviews for Do You Love Me
Guest chapter 1 . 10/4/2012
How To Write Sex Stories Good

by Michael K. Smith

It has been represented to me recently by at least two readers that there must be "some secret" to writing sex stories that work, some patented formula they might apply, if only they knew what it was, which will turn drab, coarse prose into sparkling erotica that would leave even English teachers panting with arousal.

Well, no. There's no secret. But there's no reason, theoretically, that anyone with a couple of years of lit classes behind them, an established habit of reading, and the willingness to work seriously at developing their skills, couldn't improve the quality of their writing many-fold. To that end, I shall try to lay out the ingredients I believe must be considered in writing erotica - which, it turns out, are almost exactly the same as in writing any sort of fiction. I won't talk about gerunds and indefinite pronouns, though; that's been done elsewhere much better than I could do it.

Why me? What gives me the chutzpah to set myself up as a writing consultant? Well, . . . (1) people have been paying me to write a wide variety of things for more than a decade, (2) I've been fixing other people's writing for half again that long, (3) I've taught the occasional writing workshop before, and (4) I'm entirely lacking in false modesty.


Perhaps this is too obvious a point, but the first necessity is to be able to think of a story. Small children do this all the time, making up tales to tell their teddy bears and concocting elaborate adventures for their toy soldiers.

The question most writers dread being asked is, "Where do you get your ideas?" (Harlan Ellison's reply is "Schenectady.") But ideas pop up all around you. Do you ride the bus to work? Good: You're trapped in a miniature mobile community for the duration of the trip. Look around at your fellow passengers; they're the leading characters in the stories of their own lives.

The proper-looking secretary trying to put on her lipstick in the jouncing bus may be wearing a red thong beneath her skirt. Maybe she's planning to seduce her boss. Maybe her boss asked her to wear it. Maybe she's blackmailing her boss and next week she'll be driving a new Mustang to work. Maybe she lives with a man and a woman and is intimate with both of them. Maybe she's having to re-apply her lipstick because her husband got horny and nailed her on the breakfast table just before she left to catch the bus.

And I promise you, that paragraph was written off the top of my head just now, spun out as I imagined sitting on the bus. If you're a college student, you also are a part of numerous communities filled with potential characters for a story: Your classes, your dorm, the MacDonald's across from campus, the parties you go to, the library just before term papers are due. . . .

Okay, try the library. Make that the front steps of the library. Specifically, the girl sitting on the second step from the top, shading her eyes as she peers down the path, clutching her book-bag rather nervously. She's waiting for someone, obviously. Maybe she fears she's pregnant. Maybe she's been playing slave/master games and The Man is late. Maybe she has a crush on that other girl.

See? It's really not hard.
Characterization and Plot

Some writers are strong on devising a plot, some are better at inventing characters and dialogue. But you have to become at least competent at both. The ideas churned out in the previous section have mostly to do with characterization, without which I maintain there is no plot. I'm speaking for myself here, but my stories are almost always character-driven - but that's true of nearly all erotica, which is primarily about the interaction of people.

I carry around a fat little notebook in my pocket nearly all the time (most writers do something similar) and when I overhear odd bits of conversation, or see an interesting-looking person, or am struck by someone's name, I jot it down. Later, when I'm trying to think what to write about, I'll browse my notebook. Then I'll just start elaborating on a physical description, or I'll extend the conversation and see where it takes me.

Very often, I'll go back into my own memories and experiences for "pieces" of several people I've known and see how they might be fit together. Eventually, a character emerges and takes on a life of his or her own, and all I have to do is follow along behind and take notes. I very often do not know where the story is going to take me. I admit that other writers will shudder at this perhaps casual attitude toward plot, but it works for me. The writing muscle in my brain seems to concoct the plot-line on its own and it's usually ready when I need it.

Be aware that for a story to work, the characters in it must have depth. Nothing is more dreary than a plot inhabited by flat, two-dimensional characters with no color or detail to them. And I don't mean the size of their genitalia, either. The rule is "always know more than you tell." Take the time to construct at least a minimal back story - the earlier life and activities that produced the person you're writing about, that formed the psychological makeup that will practically force them to behave in a certain way under certain circumstances. If you don't know what that is, how are you going to communicate the character's individuality to the reader?

From this, you may also infer that writing a good story takes time. You may be stuck by inspiration and dash off the main action and characters of your story in a couple of hours (it happens), . . . but that's only the beginning. You still have to become intimately acquainted with the main participants in the plot. You have to study them and play "what if" with them. This produces parallel plots and spins off subplots and gives depth and individuality to the players. Often, this process leads me to abandon my original plot idea in favor of something that comes to light more slowly.

How many really awful stories have you read on a.s.s. that were actually only isolated scenes, apparently ripped from a nonexistent larger narrative? There's no beginning or end, just a chunk of action that starts from nowhere and stops somewhere else, and you can tell it took only a half-hour to write and was posted immediately. This is not a story. Length isn't a criterion, either; an exquisite short story, after all, is preferable to a lame, formless novel.

What the structure looks like is up to you, but it must exist. And it must include some kind of action. That is, things have to happen. Perhaps the reader is yanked into the midst of furious action, like a James Bond movie, and is thrust ahead at breathless speed. It's difficult to successfully maintain a pace like that, but it can make for rousing erotica.

Maybe the story is treated as a symphony, building slowly, then climbing sexual arpeggios to a thundering crescendo, then tapering off to an afterglow. This pace generally is easier to manage.

This is not to say that the action must be external. It's perfectly legitimate to tell the whole story from the perspective of, say, a character locked up alone in a dark closet. But why is he there? What's going through her mind? Those things still constitute "action."

How you end a story is also up to you, but it should be obvious to the reader that the narrative is coming to a close even without putting "END" at the bottom of the page. Personally, I have a tendency (an unfortunate one, perhaps) of nailing down the last sentence or paragraph with some bit of recursive information, or a closing laugh-line, or a telling observation by a secondary character.

I also have a personal preference for happy endings, which - for me - seem to go very nicely with an erotic story. But then, I'm an infamous romantic.

(And, in case you didn't catch it, the previous sentence is just the sort of wrap-up device I was talking about. . . .)

I say this as a lifelong reader of fantasy and science fiction: The story must be believable. If it isn't, the discerning reader will mutter, "Gimme a break," and go on to the next story. Does the hero have fifteen geyser-like orgasms in thirty minutes? If you're writing a Superman parody, perhaps - though Larry Niven wrote a classic essay about that. Does the heroine scream with pleasurable anticipation at the prospect of sex with a whole herd of Clysdales? If she's deeply twisted, perhaps she'll fantasize about it. But you've lost me.

Okay, this is my own bias speaking, I'll admit that. I don't get off on Smurf sex or Star Trek plots, though I might enjoy them otherwise as stories. (Well, probably not Smurfs.) But the essence of erotic writing, to my mind, is the ability of the reader to project himself (or herself) into the story, to imagine he's part of the action. Isn't that what even a rudimentary masturbation fantasy is all about? If the reader can identify with one of the protagonists, can imagine the setting, can share in the plot development, . . . then you've got him.

Some of the fan mail I've received that has pleased me the most has been from readers who've said things like, "My relationship with my first lover was just like that," or "Wow, I could practically feel that happening as I read it." I take such comments on a story's believability as major compliments.

Are you limited to real-life occurrences? Of course not; erotica is a form of fantasy, after all. These are the things the reader wishes would happen. And, for that to be possible, the reader must be able to believe that the plot and the action could happen.

Another factor in believability is verisimilitude - attention to telling detail. Don't just have the girl leave the house: Have her step out on the porch, shiver at the unexpected cold, and step back in to put on her new quilted jacket, the one her fianceƆ gave her that matches his own. Such details make the story more real. Don't just say, "He came," or even "He ca
ASkyie chapter 1 . 9/23/2012
So sweet. :3