Wednesday, August 31, 2005
The Big Love Scene
As I write this, I have reached the spot in my latest story when the big sex scene is about to unfold. Other erotic romance writers will be familiar with this moment, and readers may find it interesting. Writing the Big Love Scene is, at least for me, a whole nother experience from writing the rest of the narration.
The rest of the narration is plot, description, and dialogue. The plot is just a matter of creative planning and getting from point A to point B. Honestly, it takes more discipline than anything else. The description requires a bit more imagination but it isn’t bad. The dialogue is a joy because it’s typically just the process of writing down what the characters have to say.
But the sex is different. You have to have your imagination cranked all the way to eleven, because sex never writes itself. The plot to sex is pretty much a variation on a half dozen possibilities. The description tends to be clichéd. And usually there isn’t much dialogue. So if you want to get words on paper, words that will actually move the reader, you have to have a sexual experience in your head that is worth telling about. A real sexual experience.
I’m a terrible actor but I can relate a bit to those who use method acting because that’s what an author must do for the Big Love Scene. I have to become the heroine. And by the time I let the hero have his way with me, I have to know him well enough and feel strongly enough for him that I can’t resist him. (Now you know why it usually takes awhile to get to my sex scenes!) This guy has to be vivid in my mind: his appearance, his unique charms, the feel and scent and sound of him. And he can’t make love to me in some commonplace way; there has to be something notable about it.
Once all this is achieved, the nudity and touching can finally get underway, and hopefully something lustful ensues. Okay, it always does, but only because the preparations were carefully made. And then it’s time to make an attempt to actually record this imaginary encounter, in language potent enough to convey it successfully to the reader.
I wouldn’t go through the bother of this work if it weren’t so fun. But of course it’s one of the most fun things ever, especially after the writing is over and I can read the passage as often as I like. Really, what’s not to like about having perfect, consequence-free sexual encounters with men I created myself? Reminds me of the guys who made the female robot in “Weird Science,” only the supplies required are much cheaper.
So I don’t mean to whine. But I need to stop stalling and write this scene. Raniwa (that’s his name—plan to buy Soulful Sex III if you’re curious) is waiting…and although he has infinite patience, Rebekkah doesn’t. I wouldn’t either if I were her.