Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Sex Scenes: the Good, the Bad, the Dirty - Part 2

So now you're at the point where you've decided, well, either sex is going happen in the book, or not.  But how much sex?  And where, when, and with who? And lastly, what kind?

The first question really depends on the genre and type of book you're writing.  Sometimes your character will just up and demand sexy tymes with another.  It happens.  If it's not going to kill the story, let it.  If your story isn't meant to have lots of it, then use the "fade to black" technique; have your characters show interest, maybe flirt, and the next thing you know, one of them is showering and the other's making breakfast.  Of course, a good writer can break rules (or a bad one...see 50 Shades of Gray), but in general, in terms of sex content, a book falls into one of four basic categories, regardless of genre:

Mainstream:  You acknowledge that sometimes sex happens, and sometimes it happens to your characters.  However, it is not the main goal of the story, and it is by no means a driving force or regular on-screen occurrence.  When it does happen, the characters slip between the sheets, get it on, then go about their normal day, as does the reader.
Romance:  Character relationships drive the story.  Sex is the reward, both to the reader and the characters.  It's a logical conclusion.  If graphic scenes appear, they are designed to give attention to the relationship; they may be descriptive, but typically capitalize on the emotional feelings behind the act rather than the physical.
Erotica:  The story is about sex.  It remains the driving goal behind much of what the characters want to accomplish.  Sex occurs on-screen most of the time, with more attention given to the mechanics, but characters themselves remain well-developed.
Porn:  Debbie does Dallas on the page, and you don't give a shit who Debbie is while she does it.  As long as she goes from one sex act to another, you get what you paid for.

Once you've determined that sex is going to happen, and you've decided how much you are able or willing to commit to the page, there are still the 4 "W"s to consider.  When I speak of the  where and when of a sex scene, I am not talking about the physical location or timing in the story.   We all know people will fuck almost any place they can fit their bodies.  What I'm talking about is where in the book is an appropriate place to put a sex scene.  There's no formula to this, but there are a couple of places where I find the placement of a scene problematic.  I have summed them up here:

Bond Sex:  This is the sex your characters have immediately following, or even in the middle of, a perilous situation.  Sometimes it can work, sometimes it's hot.  Other times you are wondering where the bad guys are while the protagonist is getting his rocks off.  This type of sex scene straddles the line between Duran-Duran-mad-sex-guns-and-passion, and just plain stupid.  Consider your genre and pacing and use sparingly.
Hate Sex:  Two characters who have spent plenty of time dissing each other suddenly wind up doing the nasty.  Maybe it's hot, but consider how realistic it is.  Also, if your reader has taken one character's side in a dispute, it may be hard for them to grasp why the two characters suddenly decide making up in bed is a good plan. 
Stranger/Plot Hole Sex:  We're not talking about one-night stands or the mysterious and attractive love interest.  We're talking about how well the reader knows the character(s).  Stranger sex occurs when no time has been devoted to developing either one or both characters, yet you expect the reader to show interest when you put them in bed together.  Unless there are plot reasons, don't rush them into the sack.
Invisible Sex:  This is the sex that happens when the characters have nothing else to do.  If your characters are having sex because they are waiting for something to do, maybe you should consider writing porn.
Ultimately, it will be your ability as a smut writer which should dictate how much sex the readers sees, and how much remains between the sheets. 

Some of these categories also address the who of the sex scene business, but to me, there is only one hard and fast rule concerning who is involved:  unless you are writing porn, the reader should know a bit about the persons getting it on.  Sex is the perfect medium to inspire emotion, and whether that emotion is desire or revulsion or something else, the point is that the reader needs to have a sort of connection in order to process the act. 

So we've covered how much sex fits a book, and 3 of the 4 "W"s, when, where, and who.  In Part 3 of this series, I will discuss the last "W" - what happens in a sex scene.  So maybe you already know:  sex happens.  This post will examine more closely the dirty bits of a good sex scene...otherwise known as the  good bits.  Stay tuned!

Tuesday, May 1, 2012

Sex Scenes: the Good, the Bad, the Dirty - Part 1

Is there such a thing as bad sex?  In the flesh, many desperate folks might argue that there isn't.   However, as hard up for some sexy time as you may be, nothing, and I mean nothing, makes a bad sex scene worth reading.  Sure, it can be fun to laugh over a poorly written bang session, but in terms of intriguing or arousing, the two primary goals of smut writers, a bad sex scene is one that turns the reader off to the character, the story, and potentially your writing in general.

Now there's bad sex and there's a badly written sex scene.  I want to distinguish between the two.  Many good writers cannot write smut.  It's not something we're all required to excel at.  It's simply a tool in the arsenal for those of us who can.  And some smut writers can't tell a story.  The grinding and pounding reads flawlessly, but when it comes to constructing a plot, it's a crap express train to fail town.  Rather than talking about writing and how to do it, I want to talk about "bad sex" ie. sex that, if we were to be given the option of experiencing it ourselves, we would quickly walk the other direction.  I am talking about the kinds of sex scenes that appear as fetishes on the internet's most secret of hidden Craigslist ads.

When writing Messiah of Monsters, I ultimately decided to leave out two sex scenes.  The first is an event that impacts protagonist profoundly, but by putting the story in first person, I had to be realistic as to what someone in Sam's situation would be willing to disclose to an audience.  What happened to Sam wasn't good, or appealing, or sexually arousing.  I didn't want to lose readers by introducing my character's first sexual experience as something that was horrific and traumatic, with no redeeming features.  I decided to avoid including an all-out rape scene.

Rape scenes are an alienating gambit, particularly in erotica.  No matter what other categories the book may fall under, if you include a scene where someone is raped, then do not pass go, do not try to point out all the other happy, consensual sex scenes.  You have just placed yourself into the "non-consent" or "reluctance" genre.  It's your fault, you know.  Your job is to entice, and you just gave them sex and they expected to be turned on by it.  Now, unless your reader can wrap their brains around the fact that, 100 pages later, the character is fucking and having a great time of it (either in spite of or because of their experience), you've lost them.  Maybe years have passed for the character, and they've worked through it however they do, but your reader has only had a few hours to digest the action.  Rape is brutal, beyond taboo, so unless your reader buys into the the whole fetish and enjoys rape fantasy on some level, they're gone.

Rape scenes in non-erotic novels usually have less impact on how you view the characters sexually, because the book is not geared toward making you find the characters sexually appealing.  And though I did decide to leave out the details of Sam's scene, I did decide to keep the final scene as-is.  Yes, there are definate elements of non-consent in the final chapter, but who's to say what part of the act is what leads Danny to want out?  My guess is that he drew the line at blood, specifically his own blood.  And that's the horror of it.  I was writing erotic horror, after all. 

There is one other scene that I elected to leave out, and this is one I've come to regret leaving behind.  At the very least, it would have been unique.  But it also would have placed the squick factor over the top before the novel's end.  I'm not sure I would say it that it would have eclipsed it, but on what scale do you compare necrophilia to cannibalism?  Can you think of a single book you've read where a woman has sex with a mummy-like body?  Me neither, and I'm sorry I wasn't the first.

Marlaena's strange and symbiotic relationship with Tiomir is equal parts sensual and disturbing.  As disgusting as it sounds, there is a certain beauty to a love that trancends death and the physical body.  Think of all the vampire erotica out there, and you'll see my point.  I think I managed to convey the extent of their interaction while remaining in Sam's headspace for the scene.  He was an outsider, and so the reader was kept outside as well, forced to make a choice between acknowleging the implications or ignoring the obvious.  Confession:  I'm looking forward to writing the second book as a collection of interwoven stories, where each character's own tale is allowed a climax (see what I did there?) that remains true to the sensuality of the individual.  With enough characters, there are inevitably going to be some boundaries that get pushed.

In both cases, I made a choice not to include these scenes, but I really had to think about it.  There are only two kinds of sex scene scream *avoid at all costs* to me.  Bet you can guess what they are.  And while I imagine I will never need to write a scene involving bestiality (I had to try to spell this word a dozen times, that shows how rarely I have even seen the word in print), I am approaching a project that definitely involves underage participants.  Fortunately, it's not erotica, and I can avoid alienating and infuriating the general population by some clever fade-to-black moments, though I will also not be shy in reflecting on how these very real, very human experiences, impact the characters.  It's history after all, and sexuality is a dominant part of our growing up, however fast we do it.  Our culture and the time we live in gives us the luxury of an extended adolescence.  But imagine:  Romeo was 15, Juliet was 13, they wanted to get married, and the people of Shakespeare's day didn't think this was odd.

It's all about perspective, which is the point I am driving at:  sex scenes are particularly critical in determining the perspective you impart on the reader.  Because it's sex, it's LGBT-oriented, and it's horror, Messiah is a book that appeals to a limited audience, and this fact is what led me to choose self-publishing.  The sex scenes I left out prevented me from stripping away another large portion of my audience.  My treatment of the story as a first-person recollection, and the ability to expound or experiment in-depth in a later volume, keep me from feeling like I was dishonest with my readers.  I don't think Sam's rape scene will ever see the light of day; it's unnecessary, brutal, and not at all sexy. Marlaena and Tiomir's will probably get some attention, though.  Maybe this is because I rejoice in getting under my reader's skin, or maybe it's because it's a challenge to make such a naturally repulsive thing alluring. 

Part of a good sex scene is finding out what pushes someone's buttons, and going there without hesitation.  If you hesitate your reader will, too.  If you're not sure what I'm talking about, then read some of Brande's philosophy from the novel.  He's pretty much got it down; it's part of what makes him both sexy and dangerous.  To continue this discussion, later this week I will post my basic 5-step guide to writing a successful sex scene.  I'm sure you can't wait...