Showing posts with label erotica. Show all posts
Showing posts with label erotica. Show all posts

Monday, August 25, 2014

A Writer's Guide to Getting Your Sexy Back

by +J. Lea Lopez 

Source
To clarify, the sexy you're getting is for your writing. Sorry, I can’t help you with the real thing. Or maybe I can. But that's not a discussion for this space. Ahem. Focus, please.

Whether you’re writing hardcore erotica, sizzling romance, or just a single scene requiring some Tab A into Slot B action, I’m here to help you put your sexiest foot forward. We're going to focus on the language of the scene.

Let’s face it: it’s very easy to write a bad sex scene. You run the risk of clinically sterile language, or the opposite – coarsely pornographic language. There’s also the potential for unintended comedy. I don’t want that to happen to any of you, so I’ve compiled a few guidelines. Note that I didn’t say rules. It’s up to you to decide if/when to use each of these tips. And fergawdsakes, don’t overdo it with any of them!


More descriptors ≠ more sexy


Breasts are not made any more appealing when described as amazingly perky, round, brown sugar-colored globes of desire. Really? Would you say that to your partner, or want it said to you in a moment of passion? ‘Course not. You/they would likely burst into a fit of laughter. It's also important to find the right descriptions. For instance, wet is always preferable to moist. Stick to one, maybe two good descriptors, or let the image stand on its own. This also ties into my next point:

Euphemisms are your enemy


If everyone calls it a cock, there’s probably a good reason. Don’t go trudging through the thesaurus looking for other names for human anatomy. Abandon the aforementioned globes and just call them breasts. Or maybe your character would say tits. Titties and boobies are giggle-worthy and should be avoided at all times, in my opinion.

When in doubt, revert to the standard slang, or DON’T NAME BODY PARTS at all. Yeah, you heard me. She let go a breathy moan as he pushed into her. No need to say what pushed where – we already know.
Here are some tried-and-true anatomical words to use (try not to blush):
  • cock
  • tits
  • ass
  • breasts
  • dick
  • pussy
  • clit
  • nipples (not nips – please don't say nips)
  • cunt
Cunt has become much more mainstream of late, but it's not my personal favorite and I don't think I've ever used it. I rarely even write it because it doesn't hold positive connotations for me. Pussy is weird for me too, but I'll take that over cunt. It takes a very skilled writer to use that word in an erotic context and not make me flinch. That doesn't mean you shouldn't use it, though, if you like it. It's just not for me. I think it even sounds awful. Go ahead, say it out loud (preferably when you’re alone – not on the bus or at work). It’s guttural – all hard consonant sounds. Doesn’t scream sexy to me. Which brings me to my last point for today:

Pay attention to sound


No, not those sounds. Yuck. I’ll leave that for another post. I mean, pay attention to how the words you choose for your scene sound to the ear. I don’t know about you, but even when reading silently to myself, I still hear the words in my head, and, to a lesser extent, feel them in my mouth (oh boy, you’re gonna have a field day with that phrase, I’m sure.)

Never underestimate the sexiness of well-placed alliteration. His thumb slid over the sliver of skin peeking out above the waistband of her jeans. That s sound is just sensual, both to hear and to say, isn’t it?
To me, open, round vowel sounds as well as softer consonant sounds like f, h, and l (to name a few) can be the sexiest. The heat of his breath sends a slow shiver from the nape of her neck to her toes. Mmm, sounds yummy, right?

To contrast, clipped vowels and hard consonant sounds often are less sexy. You’d do well to notice that most of your standard curse words have this characteristic – fuck, shit, bitch, etc. I’m not saying there’ll never be a place for an urgently whispered Fuck me! in your manuscript – there is certainly occasion for something like that. Short, hard-sounding words can convey urgency. But an entire scene, or even just a few sentences, full of those types of words can really kill the mood.

Especially use this guideline any time you’re thinking of some anatomical euphemism. As I mentioned, cunt sounds harsh to me. Words like rod and pole don’t sound particularly sexy either, and even invoke painful images at times. Unless you’re writing some sort of BDSM scene, these are not the images you want to paint in your reader’s mind.

Keep these tips in mind the next time you write a sex scene, and I promise you’ll have something that gets the heat level rising.

Do you have any favorite words that you find super sexy, or words that make you cringe?

J. Lea López is an author who strives to make you laugh at, fall in love with, cry over, and lust after the characters she writes. She welcomes online stalkers as long as they're witty and/or adulatory. Kidding. Maybe. Check for yourself: Twitter, Facebook, Blog. Get help with your sexy scene writing here.
 

Monday, August 6, 2012

Romance vs Erotica vs Porn

by J. Lea Lopez

Even though I'm not a fan of Fifty Shades of Grey, have no problem with porn, and am not a mommy (to anything except my adorable dog), my blood still boils when those books are called "mommy porn." I find it extremely degrading to women as readers and sexual beings, as well as to erotica writers. While many erotica writers use terms like "smut" and "porn" to describe what they write, in an attempt to reclaim the words from their contemporary negative connotations, those words do still have that feel of negative judgment. Especially porn. I think many of us would agree that in calling a book mommy porn, the intention isn't praise.

In any case, it has brought up discussions surrounding the apparently difficult-to-define lines between romance, erotica and porn. It's fairly clear in my mind, but I can see how it might be more muddled for others. Especially as some romance gets steamier and erotic romance becomes more prominent. When I'm asked about the difference between erotica and porn, however, it's pretty obvious that the person asking is under the impression that erotica IS porn, and that they don't think very highly of that. So let's look at the difference.

Porn


Plain and simple, porn in writing is the same as porn in film: meant for sexual arousal. It's stroke material, if you'll forgive the crudeness of that term.

Some people will assume, then, that any book with super sexy scenes must be porn, because what are those scenes meant to do but to get the reader hot and bothered? Of course a sex scene in romance or erotica should be hot, but there's more to those scenes than sex. Or at least there should be, in my opinion.

In romance and erotica, the sex has purpose in the context of the story; in porn, the story is merely a vehicle to deliver the sex.

I hate to say it, but a good portion of self-published "erotica" I've come across would probably fit better in the porn category because they recycle the same tired old tropes, have little character depth or development, and the plot feels like an afterthought thrown in to hold together the sex scenes. There's nothing wrong with porn, but please call it what it is.

Romance


There are two key components that define romance: a focus on the development of romantic love between the hero and heroine, and the HEA—or happily ever after—ending. Story doesn't have these things? Chances are it's not a romance.

There are other implied expectations in romance, as well as some very specific requirements from some publishers and imprints (like Harlequin). They can include things such as:
  • Specific age ranges for hero and heroine
  • Alpha male heroes
  • Heterosexuality
  • Monogamy
  • Heroines who are vulnerable, but "complex, strong and smart."
  • "Sexual language is euphemistic and romantic, not explicit" (Harlequin Desire)
The list could go on and on. Bottom line, though, is that there's the development of romantic love between a man and a woman, and it will end with either an implied or stated committed relationship.

Erotica


Erotica can trip people up sometimes. They aren't sure what it is. Is it just romance with more sex? Is it porn with a bit of romance? What IS it? It's difficult to sum up in a one-sentence definition, but I'll try. Here's what I think erotica is:

Fiction that includes explicit sex as a major part of the plot, but that is not necessarily romance.

That seems like it leaves a lot of wiggle room, doesn't it? Some people say that in erotica, sex or a a sexual journey are the story, but that feels too restrictive to me. I think there's room for a lot more than just that. There may certainly be some romantic elements in erotica, but HEA or even HFN are not requirements. What else makes erotica different?
  • Plot and writing are just as important as they would be in romance or any other genre!
  • Free to explore ideas like non-monogamy and sexualities outside of hetero
  • Bring on the love triangles! (or rectangles, or hexagons, or whatever...)
  • No need to wrap everything up neatly. Sometimes melancholy endings are good.
  • Freedom to explore, in-depth, some of the emotional and psychological issues surrounding sex and sexuality
Sex scenes should be at least mildly sexually arousing, whether in porn, erotica, or romance. (Unless there's some other purpose for the scene.) That's what sex is. So simply relegating all writing with sexually arousing scenes to "porn" would be doing a disservice to all literature.

What are some other differences you can think of when it comes to romance, erotica, and porn?

J. Lea Lopez is a writer with a penchant for jello and a loathing for writing bios. Find her on Twitter or her blog, Jello World. She has had some short stories published, most recently in the Spring Fevers anthology.

Thursday, March 31, 2011

Erotica Writer's Manifesto

by J. Lea Lopez

I write erotica. I don't mean "I occasionally write an erotic story," I really mean I. Write. Erotica.

It's where I plan to focus much of my writing time and energy. It's where the stories in my head naturally lead. It's the type of writing I'm good at, and that I enjoy writing.

You may not think it's a big deal to stand up and announce yourself as an erotica writer, but you'd be surprised at some of the reactions. Sometimes I think people want to ask me why I write erotica (as if the answer would be anything different than one they'd get from someone who writes SF/F). Sometimes I get the feeling they want to ask how I got into something like that, as though I've just admitted to a shoplifting addiction or secret life as a porn star or something else considered equally deviant. I'm sure when I tell some people I write erotica it conjures images of all the really bad sex writing out there, which is NOT what I write. It elicits giggles and blushes as much as blank stares and brows furrowed in confusion.

I want to let you in on a little secret. Lean a little closer so I can whisper it... A little closer...

PEOPLE HAVE SEX!

Sshhh! Don't go spreading that around now, y'hear?

Seriously, though. People have sex. It's been known to happen. A lot of what's communicated—or not communicated—during sex is emotionally loaded, rich with meaning. People relate to each other through sex. People create and resolve issues with sex. They learn about themselves and each other. And aside from all that, sex is just plain sexy and fun, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with reading or writing about it!

So I'm putting it out there for any reader, agent, publisher, editor, etc. who might want to take notice: I write erotica, and if I may say so, I'm pretty decent at it.

I'm an erotica writer, and here is my manifesto:

  • I will not use ridiculous euphemisms for body parts or actions unless I intend them to be ridiculous.
  • I will portray realistic bodies and body images without being condescending, patronizing, insulting, sexist, or demeaning.
  • I will write characters who are realistic and easy to relate to. I will write characters you care about, who will stick with you after their stories have ended.
  • I will write sex scenes that arouse and excite.
  • I will write sex scenes that are thought-provoking and touching.
  • I will make the sexually explicit scenes relevant to the story. Even in erotica, I believe gratuitous sex is unnecessary and boring.
  • I will not write trash.
  • I will portray realistic sexual actions - including, but not limited to, mutual and solo masturbation, oral sex and all the hang-ups that may come with it, sexual dysfunctions, safer sex practices, birth control, sex aids, and much, much more. Furthermore, I will handle these issues with humor, tenderness, valid medical/scientific research when necessary, honesty, and passion.

What would you include in your personal Genre Manifesto (erotica or otherwise)?