The Smut Has Hit the Fan

What's the difference between erotica and pornography?

What you're willing to admit you own tons of and let your friends borrow.

I happen to have both. (Considerably more of one than the other, but that's another entry.)

So I've finally succumbed. I've decided that writing *ahem* adult content isn't so bad after all. You know, seeing as how it might get me out of debt if I do a halfway decent job at it.

I just need some smu-um, story ideas.

I already have a huge revolving (ignore the imagery) idea for a series. I was going to do like a 10 or 15 part series, but the more I think about it, I'm sure a neverending story will be right up my alley. It'll be the smut version of my Fire and Ice saga. You know, minus all the blood and violence (unless the characters are into that kind of thing).

So who wants to be memorialized in my new venture? I've already got 4 people who post at my favorite message board (they know who they are-hehe Wanda as a dominatrix) as lusty maids at my kinky hotel. Anyone volunteering to be a guest? (Yes, that is my evil cackle.) I guarantee you'll enjoy your stay.

The Thong (d)Evolution

Warning: If you are skinny and/or flat, this entry may not be for you.

In my quest to prove my “you can be sexy without being naked" theory, I have decided to start a war against thongs. Just one more thing bringing down popular culture in America (not that it has far to go).

Well, maybe it's not that serious. But ever since they became popular, they've annoyed the hell out of me.

Take shopping for instance. I believe every woman should dress (or undress) any way they please (within reason, but that's another entry), but I don't think clothing manufacturers feel that way. Over the past few years, every halfway decent clothing trend has become more revealing and less like something a lot of adult women would wear. Do they really expect us all to dress like video hos or a gaggle of giggling teenagers on TRL? I'm almost ashamed of the way teenage girls and young women feel they have to dress in order to be accepted or feel attractive. Is this what the quest to be popular does to us? I'm sure they don't all feel they have to dress that way, but if there was no pressure to follow these trends, would they wear skirts so short they can barely sit down and pants so low they have to have special underwear to get away with it? Why do you need to buy colored or bespeckled butt floss in order to wear a simple pair of jeans? I thought jeans were casual wear, so why does even the most basic of clothing items need it's own set of special accessories?

A sad state of affairs.

For the past four years or so, clothes shopping has become...difficult. If you're a woman of a certain body type (meaning: if you're above a size 8 or so and have an actual shape), clothing options have become vastly limited. It seems as if all of the major retailers think fabric has become optional. If you want to wear a skirt, it either has to be ankle length or show off your waxing job. If you wear jeans, you have to worry about showing off everything within a half inch of your butt crack and panty lines because jeans just aren't thick enough anymore. It all started with that evil thong. Am I the only one who remembers when you could just throw on a pair of jeans without worrying about who was staring at your butt trying to figure out what color/underwear type you had on?

If the thong wasn't an option, what would women do? Would they stop buying the clothes that show everything short of their natural hair color? Or would they force clothing companies to make attractive clothes for women who are body conscious? Well, maybe force isn't the right word. Unless we're going to go into stores and burn the offending clothes, I doubt they'll realize that women need more of a choice than being next door to naked or dressing like somebody's grandmother.

I know bra burning belonged to another generation, but I don't believe there's an expiration date on a good idea.

Since I've already got the matches out, I propose we start out with thongs, low rise underwear (like some people don't have enough trouble keeping those things in place), low rise jeans, ultra low rise anything and skirts that don't come at least 4 inches below the point of no return.

Even if burning isn't the right answer (and I'm still not sure on that one), I'd still like to have the option of buying jeans in my size that don't tell everyone within 20 feet my personal business. It's horrible when you have to go into a store and try on jeans several sizes too big because everything is low rise and slim fit. The average woman in this country is a size 14 and over 150 pounds. So who really fits these things? The mythical college coeds who bounce through Girls Gone Wild videos? Or the people who starve themselves and get everything lifted and pulled so tight they can't even tell what they look like anymore?

Who am I kidding? Maybe it's the whole culture that needs to go down. The members of Outkast said it best in Behold A Lady. “I kinda dig those old school, cute, regular draws." Let’s take back our clothes! Take back our booties!

W*****'s B****

You recognize the title. It's not a four letter word, but should be. You know what it's like. You sit in front of the computer (typewriter/blank notebook), gather the writing implements of your choice and get ready to relay your brilliant thoughts to the world at large.

Then the blankness.

You try everything. You put on that CD you haven't listened to in oh...hours. You pace around the room. Pick up a book—no, wait. Might lead to plagiarism. Put the book down and turn on the TV. Switch that off because you realize you'll never get anything done staring at that thing. You wear out Solitaire to the point where your eyes cross every time you see a deck of cards on screen.

Now what?

How do you get rid of that ugly blankness that seems to be taking over your mind, eating away at the creative juices you worked so hard to conjure up that day? What do you do to get the ideas that seemed to be dancing on the edge of your mind out and into the world?

Dang if I know.

LOL Sorry. Half the time I'm as stuck as the next writer, staring at a blank page as if it'll magically fill itself. But I can offer a few tips that might help others with the same problem. After all, I'm writing this during one of my dry spells.

First, try not to stress out about it. (I don't even say w*****'s b**** because the words themselves seem to get in the way.) Everyone goes through days, even weeks or months when nothing seems to come out right, or come out at all. Take a deep breath and try to relax your body. Even if it doesn't make the words flow, it'll go a long way towards getting your mind in the right state. How many writers have you heard of that produced their award-winning pieces while wondering how much time they have to buy the groceries or counting the seconds till their next deadline?

Sometimes, real life does intrude on the fun of writing, but part of your job as a writer is to focus on the task at hand and make telling a good story your priority. Even if it means forcing yourself to forget about everything else for a while.

What else works? Corny as it sounds, writing exercises can be a life saver. I can't tell you the number of times I've tried to start something new and come across a writing exerise done through an e-group ages ago. Even if it's just a paragraph (or a page of mad libs) to get you started, sometimes it can inspire a new novel or short story or even a new twist to your current work in progress. There are a few places you can find useful exercises online, but my favorite is Charlotte Dillon's Resources for Romance Writers. The exercises themselves are not always genre specific, so give them a try if you're looking for a different type of motivation.

Something else you may not have thought of: rewriting. I know, I know. You're doing that anyway. After all, what writer is so flawless that everything comes out perfectly during the first draft? But sometimes the problem isn't what your characters should be doing next, but what they were doing before you got stuck. I've found it helps to look through my most recent passage, find a problem spot, and rewrite the next few paragraphs or pages. You may like what you wrote. You may love it so much you can't imagine parting with one word of it. But are you willing to sacrifice the whole story to save one part? In the words of Stephen King, murder your darlings. Take that seemingly brilliant piece of prose out and see if your story doesn't read better without it. Who knows, you may even be able to put that selection into another story.

You may also want to try getting your friends to help. Everyone should have at least one person they're willing to show their unfinished masterpiece. If you don't know anyone with a good eye for your specialty, there are lots of writer's groups online that offer peer-to-peer critique services. If you're willing to look at chapters from other writers, you might get a lot of good feedback on your own work. You could even find a little inspiration from fellow children of the craft.

My point is this: getting stuck every once in a while isn't the end of the world. There are lots of ways to get things going in the right direction again, if you're willing to give other methods a try.

Then again, there's always online poker.

Confessions of a Porn Queen

It's not my fault.

No, seriously.

Apparently, my “best" writing is erotica. Popularly known to my friends as softcore porn. In the literary world these two are not the same thing, but for readers, the distinguishment does not need to be made.

I spent most of last summer experimenting in what was, for me, a new genre. I've been reading romance novels since I was around 7 or 8 (back when they were full of chaste kisses and hand holding) and have been writing romance/drama since age 14. I wasn't really into the love thing until college, when I discovered it was easier for me to write that than focus on building a good suspenseful plot with well-developed characters. (Kinda sucks since my first passion is horror stories and I can't write anything scary to save my life.) This is not to say that romance novels can't be well-written, but most of the good romance ideas have already been done. There's only so many ways to do the surprise-baby-playing-hard-to-get-fight-and-make-up-three-pages-from-the-end thing. In the past few years I have discovered the dozens of subgenres associated with romance, so please don't get the idea that it's limited to the basic boy-meets-girl scenario. I wouldn't have been writing it this long if that was the case.

I blame one of my friends for the predicament I'm in now. Until high school, my main (really, only) writing influence was Stephen King. I picked up the occassional Christpher Pike or R.L. Stine as a kid, but no one does horror like The Master. By my sophomore year, I was convinced I was going to publish a book of horror shorts scary enough to have people screaming in bed, too frightened to turn out their lights and too excited to stop reading before the end. Then I came across an early version of my friend's message board. It was dedicated to my favorite entertainer and full of something I'd never thought I'd find, horny female fans. Imagine that, innocent little me at age 16, marvelling over how “real" women found my fantasy man attractive. My friend was writing a novel starring said fantasy man and... well let's just say reading that one changed my life.

Less than a year later, I started my own story about him (no comments from the peanut gallery—I WILL finish it soon) and haven't really been able to stop since. At first, I was writing the typical fan fic stuff: excited fan meets her idol, blahblahblah, they live happily ever after. As I got further into the story, I realized I had a knack for suspense so I kept adding twists into the story in order to keep it going. No, this is not a good writing technique, but it worked for me at the time. I shied away from writing about sex in these stories for two reasons. First, I wanted people to like my story because it was good, not because it was a non-stop orgy with the merest suggestion of a plot. Second, (my friends don't believe me on this because they didn't know me when I started the story) I am SUCH a prude when it comes to sex. I can't even read someone else's (mild) story without blushing.

As you might imagine, this has changed a bit.

I was asked by someone I was close to at the time to inject a sex scene randomly into the story. Now seriously, the only reason I did it at that point was because it was my friend asking. Anyone else would've gotten a flat-out no. After all, how much sense does it make to add sex into Chapter 18 when you didn't get into any detailed coupling scenes earlier in the novel? If you're going to write it out, the first time the couple is together should really be it. I didn't think of this common sense argument when having this discussion with my friend, so I buckled down and laid down 6 pages of hot steamy lovin' outside in the rain. Maaaaaaaan! The reaction to that? You would've thought the next chapter of the story came with a video of the goings on. As I wrote the last few chapters of my masterpiece, I tried to steer the story away from any possible porn-inspired moments, not hard since my heroine was pregnant with twins by that point.

Two things happened in the intervening years to change the course of my writing. The first, I started reading Harlequin Blaze novels and my inner A. N. Roquelaure was inspired to come out and play (I plan on publishing with them when my current WIP is complete). Then, I was practically challenged by friends at this message board to come up with something a little spicy to read. Truth be told, we all had waaay too much time on our hands that summer, and pushing the boundaries was a way to release some long-held tension.

I was in the middle of rewriting my formerly chaste fan fic when it occurred to me that prudishness and fantasy had no reason to be associated with each other. If I wanted my fantasy man, I—er, my heroine—could have him, any way she damn well pleased! Gee, after that the story got really dirty. It's not my fault, the couple in the story like expressing their love in very um... public ways. You can only write what the characters tell you, you know.

Back to our little summer adventures. We started debating whether said entertainer could be into ladies of the night and somehow that spawned a story (or three). Then one of the ladies started wondering if he could be sleeping with a (married!!!) business associate. Somehow in all of this, I had the man going out in disguise to meet women, having sex with a complete stranger in a hotel room, and being on the receiving end of a little whip and candle action. Darn that HBO for putting ideas in my head!

So what's my real complaint after all this gabbing? It's sick, but after all these years of writing fic and posting at this board, I really do get the most responses when I “sacrifice" plot for porn. Now, I try to put as much “story" as I can into the overall piece, but when the whole purpose is to write a sexual adventure, there's only so much you can do to make it legit. I'd like to think I'm a decent writer period, but I think I might be trying to find out with the wrong crowd. Either that or I'm not.

What sucks even more, one of the ladies gifted me with the title Porn Queen over the summer. Yay? Yes. Wonderful. Now I'm infamous for smut when I don't particularly like writing it in the first place. It's not...challenging. No, that's not quite what I want to say, but that's the word my brain is spitting out at the moment.

So what did I do? Embrace this apparent gift and run with it? Nah. That would be too simple. I stopped writing such graphic stories for months. Only recently did I post anything even remotely sexual and that was because it was bouncing around my brain faster than Tom Cruise on an unarmed couch (that poor, poor couch).

I've decided I may as well embrace it. Who knows when I'll have time for “real" writing? Besides, erotica does pay well. And at least I'm not starring in the movies.

The Angelina Obsession

Being in love with Angie's eyes does not make me a lesbian. Wanting to doing something dirty with her does. Or does it?

I read a survey a couple of years ago and the results were surprising (but somehow not). Just about every (hetero) woman surveyed said they had a girl-crush on Angelina Jolie. What is a girl-crush you ask? My lame definition: when one woman admires another woman's personality and/or looks in a (usually) non-sexual way. Girl-crushes can be admitted without embarassment, unwanted questions about sexuality, or the suggestion from your boyfriend that you “just try it once, for him."

Until this point, I'd honestly thought I was a rare breed. A woman with a thing for Angie (and her eyes/lips/smile/sexy voice). *sigh* I'm starting to think there are no women left who don't find her attractive (except for that bland chick Brad used to bone). It's not such a bad thing. Until I realized something else. She is possibly the ONLY woman I'd ever want to be in a sexual relationship with. I pride myself on being a bit openminded. I have nothing against most people or their beliefs (excepting my allergies to fakeness and stupidity) and I try to be open to most suggestions in a hypothetical manner. I've always thought if I had the chance to be with a woman I completely trusted, I wouldn't have a problem doing the do with her. Wrong. Without getting into specifics, I've had the chance before. Without hesitating, I decided there are places my mouth will probably NEVER go, even if the hypothetical female in question splashed her bits and pieces with tequila and held a lime between her nether lips. It couldn't work for me. I find lots of women attractive (there I go being “openminded" again), but I just don't see myself having some sort of oral interaction with another female. On the giving end anyway. What can I say? I'm selfish. Comes with being born a queen. But Angie? I'd probably still hesistate, but not for long. I mean really, who could resist the urge to put that look on her face if they could? Not me. I might be a scared little non-lesbian, but I'm not stupid. There are some opportunities that could never be duplicated and I can't really think of anyone who would give up the chance to hit that.

My fixation with her isn't just about sexual attraction, but I'd rather not get too deep into the other stuff right now. Just know that I admire a lot of the things she's been doing around the world and I don't spend my movie-watching time imagining her naked (when she isn't already) instead of paying attention to the plot.

Hmm. Why did I write “naked" and “Angelina" in the same post? My train of thought is almost completely gone now. Dang it.

What was I saying? Oh yes. The girl is hot. I know what you're thinking. DUH! But you don't know how hard it is for me to admit that, especially knowing I've linked this blog to a few hundred (sometimes) judgmental folks at my favorite message board. Then again, half those jokers want to do her too, so maybe I won't get teased too much. After all, don't we all want to dip in her honey pot?

Great. Now that brings to mind all kinds of images of smacking lips and tongues darting out and...mm.

If someone hears her next movie is looking to cast a big booty black chick, kindly let me know. Your reward? A blow-by-blow after my “audition."

Signed,

Only a lesbian for one woman who I'll probably never have (and I'm pretty sure that doesn't count)