Hello! I’m Mia Marlowe and I’m thrilled to be counted among the Brava authors. Since I’m working on my novella for the IMPROPER GENTLEMEN anthology (July 2011) with Diane Whiteside and Maggie Robinson, my topic today is improper thoughts.
In straight talk–sex scenes. Writers work with nothing but ink on a page and somehow hope to breathe life into our characters. We play on their hopes and dreams. We catalogue their triumphs and failures. Nowhere are these things more evident than in our character’s sex lives.
My literary first time was not in a romance book. It was from that highly respected literary genius, John Updike. I was a junior in high school, an extremely naïve junior, when I read Rabbit Run. The scene where Harry Angstrom coerces a hooker into giving him oral sex while his wife is giving birth was a shock to me. First, because I had no idea people did such things. Told you I was naïve. And second, because the relationship in which the oral sex occurred was so cold and devoid of joy. But did it deepen my understanding of the characters and propel the story? Like a runaway locomotive.
It also convinced me that every scene—especially the sex scenes—should deepen my characters or propel the story. Preferably both.
If they’re so important, why are sex scenes so hard to write?
Probably because writers need to get over themselves. We worry that someone will think our sex scenes are autobiographical, sometimes with good reason. When I first started writing, my DH used to go to RT with me. One day a woman who’d read my work came up to him, gave him the once over and said, “You must really be something.”
The wicked man just smiled and said, “Thank you, ma’am, I am.”
Part of what makes writing a sex scene difficult is puzzling over what language to use. Which brings us to “purple prose.” If you’ve ever giggled over something as ridiculous as “the ruddy tower of his power” you know what I mean. Beauty of language is one thing, but let’s not lose our heads. There’s no room in any scene for, pardon the pun, flaccid prose. Keep it crisp or the story will be lost in our Victorian silliness. Unless of course the story is set in the Victorian era, but even then it’s best to keep the euphemisms down. Or better yet, let the characters laugh over their verbal coyness.
Call it what your character would call it. When the plain sense makes sense, seek no other sense. Technical terms may not sing, but they don’t confuse anyone either. And it is possible to write a totally hot sex scene and not mention any body parts at all.
Mark Twain said “A successful book isn’t made of what’s in it, but what’s left out of it.” I promise to leave out purple prose.
What “purplism” frustrates you? My mother hates the word “groin.” Any time we write about body parts or sexual acts, someone will be offended by the words we use. What term do you wish your favorite author would leave out?
Mia’s debut Brava title TOUCH OF A THIEF comes out in May 2011. Visit http://www.miamarlowe.com/bookshelf.htm to read an excerpt.
Looking forward to next summer, Mia!
There are just so many words I refuse to use when writing—it’s a wonder I can get anything down. Anything ‘throbbing’ is just wrong.
Me too Maggie! I love the whole “improper” premise of IMPROPER GENTLEMEN.
LOL I remember giggling over some purple prose when I was in high school.
Maggie, what about purple veins throbbed in his staff. lol
Interesting post, Mia.
I’m all for detail, but it’s possible to go overboard. People have hairy moles too, but I don’t want to know about them.
Good grief, great minds thought alike at exactly the same time! http://www.bravaauthors.com/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_twisted.gif Waves to Sandy.
Are manly veins “purple” enough to turn you off? Any time the male hydraulic system is described in such fine (or gross) detail, I skip to the dialogue.
Speaking of dialogue, has anyone ever figured out why “Oh, God” is used so very often in sex scenes?
Throb doesn’t bother me so much as long as it doesn’t preface some silly euphemism.
There’s a woman who attends RT with buttons that say “Rage against the pebbled nub!” Hysterical.
I’m with you on that one. And ‘pebbled nub’, LOL
I don’t like it when a woman’s part is referred to as a flower… but I also wouldn’t find it sexy to be reffered to as a vagina.
For the man, I don’t like wand and nor do I like penis or dick.
Can’t wait to read your story!
Thanks Eliza.
The problem is many of the words used to describe female anatomy have a derogatory connotation. It’s not romantic when I feel insulted by what the author calls the heroine’s equipment.
I prefer a penis to a willy, and a dick to a cock. (Can’t help thinking of the rock song “I’m a little red rooster.”) A trouser snake makes me vaguely uneasy and would be ridiculous among kilt wearers.
I’m not fond of man meat, come to think of it.
Naming something is a way of controlling it.
I think part of the problem stems from the fact that sexuality is a very deep part of us. We feel exposed, and not just physically, by it. So we shroud it in silly language and rudeness. It’s as if we believe if we can laugh at how ridiculous it is when you really think about it, perhaps we’ll feel less threatened by the idea of joining so completely with another person. If we make light of sex with the words we use to describe it, we can ignore the deeper connection it’s supposed to create.
Hi Mia,
Great blog. I agree, I think we need to use the terms that the characters would use/think. We are in their point of view. The same goes for dialogue. My heroes are cops would think or say, “Oh, shucks.”
Great post.
CC
Agreed, Christie. In addition to the POV character, the type of story will help determine what language is used. If it’s a sensual historical, don’t look for the same bluntness as an erotica. Readers have different expectations across sub-genres. We writers ignore that at our peril.
Euphemisms tend to pull me out of the scene. It’s like calling a leg a limb. Who does that in real life? Then why do we do this in books?
Well, if the story is set in the Victorian era, a well-bred girl would refer to a leg as a limb because to do otherwise was considered indelicate. It’s a good way to show differences in your characters. The dowager countess would say “limb,” but her scullery maid would likely use what would be considered more crude language.
Hi Mia, fellow WisRWA writer here. I’m with you about the sex scenes, since it’s not really about thesex but about the emotion and connection between the two people involved, sometimes it’s hard to know what to leave in and what to take out – in a mannner of speaking. And while I didn’t have an actual sex scene in my YA novel, I did have loads of sexual tension – and from the male’s POV which is basically all sex all the time. So I always, whether writing an adult full-blown sexual encounter, or something just slightly naughty, have to remember the people involved, the feelings and their development, that’s what’s important.
I also hope to have the same kind of mind-blowing sex as as my character Beverly had with Kyle – God was he good.
We are sexual beings. Even if your YA characters aren’t sexually active, they think about it as often as you do, or in the case of your randy guys, maybe even more often!
But there’s plenty of excitement in anticipation. Sometimes, the pleasures of a kiss are lost because we’re in hurry to get on to the main course. But I ask you, what’s more intimate than a shared breath?
Great Blog, Mia! You had me grinning and nodding in agreement. And I was wondering if and how purplisms change over time.
Oh my, yes, purplisms change over time! I loved Kathleen Woodiwiss, but she was the purple prose queen by today’s standards. But we have to keep in mind reader expectations. In the 70′s and 80′s, readers were looking for those flowery descriptions in the 600 page doorstops she turned out.
If you want some serious giggles, try this Victorian Slang site. Want to know what a “dollymop” is? You’ll find it here.
And when it comes to what to call a guy’s package, how could we ever top “Nebuchadnezzar?” “To put Nebuchadnezzar out to grass” meant to engage in sex.
Shaking my head in wonderment. How in the world did they come up with that?
Well, Nebuchadnezzar was best known for his Hanging Gardens…
Snort!
I thought I’d find it hard to remember what terrible examples of purple prose I’d read, but all this talk of purple body parts has brought the very worst example I know right back to me. I’m not sure what the source was, but the term translates as ‘purple-helmeted soldier of love’. Auch! I wonder if anyone ever really wrote that
.
As for slightly more sedate euphemisms for ‘penis’, I’m not fond of ‘member’ and ‘organ’. They both sound so detached – not like proper names for essential body parts which are highly appreciated and loved by the average protagonists in sex scene. Neither does ‘penis’, but at least that’s the most neutral term I can think of…
Whoever wrote “purple helmeted soldier of love” should never admit it! LOL
That’s got a pretty high “ick” factor.
‘Member’ and ‘organ’ do sound detached, but if you have a very self-contained, repressed character, those might be the words they’d think. This is one case where the words we use should be our character’s, not ours.
In TOUCH OF A THIEF (coming May 2011) I have an Indian courtesan who refers to her clitoris as her “little pearl.” This sounds a bit purple out of context, but it isn’t. It’s what she thinks, how she feels about this precious part of her.
That sounds kind of cute, actually
. It also helps if expressions haven’t already been overused – this one is not a cliché and therefore more likely to come across as a character’s own words.
I guess the rule of thumb for writers is keep it real, keep it true to the character.
I dislike the words “moist” and “creamy”. Those do not elicit erotic images for me.
I’ve had a similar experience with a reader, but mine wasn’t so sweet as to compliment my man’s prowess. I’ve published a few erotic horror pieces and I had a reader email me and tell me what a great writer I was, how much he liked the story, etc and so forth. Well, I emailed him back to thank him for taking the time to give me feedback and that I was glad he enjoyed the story.
From my email, he managed to hack my server and my computer. He got my phone number, my address and he said he was going to come to my house and give me what I obviously needed, etc and so forth and in much plainer language.
I’d never experienced anything like that before. I’d never stopped to consider that people would associate the characters as me. I’ve always just considered myself the conduit of the story.
Wow, he actually hacked your computer? That’s so scary!
Yeah, it was a little scary. But I didn’t play around. I reported it to the FBI as a computer crime and forwarded the emails and messages he left on my answering machine. I got a restraining order and he got arrested for stalking. He only ended up getting probation, but it made a record of his behavior.
Saranna,
That’s horrible. And it underscores why a pen name is a good idea. I know it’s possible to discover real names in a few clicks, but whatever makes it harder to do protects us from crazies.
I don’t activate any of the “location” elements on my Twitter or Facebook. Only my family needs to know where I am. And frankly, I rarely accept male friend requests from people I don’t know on Facebook unless they are authors or somehow connected to publishing as well.
Mia-
It seems there’s always a chance of fixation when you’re in the public eye. I’ve had some wild experiences in my life, so I wasn’t as startled as maybe some people would have been, but it was still a surprise. And of course, offensive.
And scary. I’m glad you knew the right things to do to document his behavior and keep yourself safe. What he was about wasn’t sex. It was about power and a planned assault.
Certainly. That was obviously predatory behavior. I’ve worked with sex offenders for a long time. Of course, when this happened it was early in my career and I was just learning how to handle it. In a way, I’m thankful it happened to me, because I did know what to do and he wasn’t able to victimize anyone.
I’m with Saranna. The word ‘moist’ will almost make me shut a book and not open it again. I dislike it THAT much.
Blah. Great post, Mia! 
However, I’ve never committed a “cream.” That always suggests an infection of some sort to me.
Hi Mia,
I liked your post. The plainer the terms the better, for me. What causes me to cringe is giving me details about the dirty, muddy place two lovers are in, then being specific anout where certain body parts go–too microbial.
I hear you, Barb. Everytime I see that old black-and-white snippet of FROM HERE TO ETERNITY, I alwasy remember how my bikini bottom filled with seaweed and salt when I was on the beach in Florida.
No, the DH and I weren’t trying a reenactment in the surf. I was playing with the kids making sure they weren’t carried off in the waves.
I have the great privilidge of being Mia’s critique partner. Let me tell you, no purple prose in her work, ever. Just some of the best, clear concise writing I’ve ever read.
I can’t wait for touch of a thief. I loved that story, but didn’t have a chance to get to the end due to other things getting in the way. I’m buying it as soon as it comes out!
Ash
Thanks, Ash. You’re the best when it comes to helping me keep it real.