Saturday, 10 November 2012

Review: How to Write Hot Sex


This guide, edited by Shoshanna Evers, should be a must-read for anyone in the early stages of becoming an erotica writer. It combines a wealth of useful, practical information with some thought-provoking debates on the nature and appeal of erotica. I didn’t always agree with the authors but I did welcome the range of points of view.

One of those debates is the distinction between porn, erotica and romance. One chapter, Writing the Fine Line Between Erotica and Porn by Kate Douglas explicitly attempts to differentiate with a view to avoiding being labelled as porn. Personally, I’m not so precious about what people call my work as long as they enjoy it. But I can see Douglas’ point in that porn may have no real story behind it. In her piece, she explains how motivation, strong characterisation and plot are what make the difference. And that’s good advice for any kind of writing, whatever you want it to be called.

On the other hand, running throughout the book is another debate about the place of plot in erotica. Controversially, Cara McKenna writes: ‘When I write erotica, I don’t saddle myself with the burden of plot.’ In her view, this avoids making the sex scenes seem like they’ve been ‘crow-barred in’. And sure, you don’t want your characters suddenly dropping everything because you’ve gone 500 words without them getting down and dirty. But other authors bring different perspectives and flesh out what plot means in erotica. Christine d’Abo writes about how sex, although a necessary component, is not the heart of what’s happening and must be a means for the characters to develop. Isabo Kelly writes: ‘They want story with their sex’ and explains how the sex must mean something to the plot. Delphine Dryden, writing about BDSM erotica, advises to ‘think of yourself as writing a story first,’ while Cari Quinn says you are ‘telling a story through sex’.

Douglas’ debate about whether or not we’ve crossed the line into porn feeds into another debate over crossing our own personal lines as writers. Several of the authors mention the need to avoid self-censorship, not worrying about what people will think of you for what you have written. Quinn tells us ‘Don’t be afraid to go there,’ don’t hold back on an idea because our inner critic is telling us it might be too much. And as McKenna puts it, it’s that ‘edge’, the nudge into feelings of emotional discomfort or shame for our characters that can make a story sparkle. It’s when your brain says one thing but your body’s not listening.

That inner censor is a real demon, telling you that if you write about BDSM everyone will assume you have a fully equipped dungeon in your cellar. But as Giselle Renarde recalls the words of Selena Kitt: ‘You don’t have to be a murderer to write a murder mystery’. McKenna adds her voice to this side of the debate, assuring you not to worry about readers thinking everything you create is autobiographical. But you do have to do your homework and in the days of the internet you can engage with people who do know and find out an awful lot without leaving home. Christina d’Abo writes about how you can produce m/m romance if you’re not gay, and indeed not actually a man at all, giving a useful tour of the biology and logistics of gay sex and a warning to avoid the stereotypes of drag queens and fashion designers. Dryden’s advice on writing BDSM is similar; you may not have to practise it, but you don’t want to make it obvious you don’t by getting it wrong.

As well as d’Abo’s guide to gay sex, there are other practical tips and glossaries from Renarde on the nature and psychology of fetish and Dryden on the terms used in BDSM. Jean Johnson goes over the physiology of arousal and the difference between the genders, with an anatomy lesson of the all-important naughty bits. Editor Shoshanna Evers gets down to basics with a survey of the publishing industry and how to make a professional approach.

But what about the writing itself? Tips please... Well, Charlotte Stein talks commas, sentence length and repetition, showing how a little finesse with these can help your reader get under a character’s skin. She also explores the issue of deep point of view, the emotions and inner dialogue that bring an erotic encounter alive. I swear that woman could write about grass growing and she’d have readers dashing off to the loos for a quickie. But I guess to watch grass growing, you’d have to be lying in it. Up close. Maybe the dew is dampening your skin... but I digress. When it comes to erotic content, Quinn reminds us of the value of talking dirty, how realistic dialogue can bring out the emotion. Desiree Holt goes over ways to use all five senses, while McKenna suggests cutting through the dullness of perfection in our characters and their sexual encounters and into the ‘ugly’.

With Evers’ advice on reviewing and the importance of avoiding pissing people off in mind, I’ll keep my criticisms short and sweet. My main gripe with the book was how the self-promotion sometimes leaked out of the ‘about the author’ section into the main pieces, including sometimes overly long extracts from their own work. I also thought it would have been nice to hear from some male writers.

1 comment:

  1. Tilly, thank you for the twitter link so I could find this--so funny, but since the book came out, I've been swamped by life and work and haven't even read the other authors' sections. After reading your review, I guess I'd better pull out my copy and start reading! Thanks for a terrific review of what's sitting on my shelf. (I know, I am really embarrassed!)

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