In addition to writing a lot of erotica, I edit quite a bit of it. And when I put on my editor’s hat, I often find there are three kinds of submissions: good ones, filled with hot sex and great writing (which get an instant yes from me); bad ones filled with clich’s and beginner mistakes (which get an instant no and a suggestion to join a critique group); and almost-there ones.
The almost-there stories are the ones which have many things right about them, but which fall short in other areas. These are the ones that go in my “maybe” file. Which basically means that I want to read them again before I make a decision. And, it often means that surrounding events will have an impact on my decision- Are we short on stories this month? Then I’m more likely to accept it. Do I really have the time to tackle this story and make it into a great story? If not, then it’s likely to be rejected.
Writing an almost-there story is a good place to be, because it means you’ve moved beyond the basic mistakes. But it’s also a difficult place to be, because the mistakes are more subtle and thus harder to find and correct.
To me, these mistakes are divided into two categories: sex-specific no-nos and general story no-nos. Because this is an erotica column, I’ll keep the focus on the sex-specific mistakes. Here are what I see as the top ten erotic no-nos:
No Way!
One of the most common mistakes I see is sex that is just not physically possible in this world. Some parts just don’t go together, or they don’t go together in the way that the author describes them. If you’re unsure whether the penis bends that far backward or if a dildo can bonk the baby’s head during sex, be sure to look it up before you put it in your story.
Not Likely
Does your female character come just from bumping against someone’s zipper? Are your characters having anal sex without lube (or with something that’s a poor lube, like water)? These are the kind of implausible acts that will throw a discerning reader right out of your story. Readers need to trust that you know what you’re talking about, or they won’t suspend disbelief and keep reading. You can get away with implausible acts, if you acknowledge them. “She was the first girl I’d ever been with who was that sensitive” or “Doing this without lube was a stupid idea, Brad realized.”
They’re Doing What?
This is unclear sex, where the reader is scratching her head and trying to figure out exactly what the characters are doing and what position they’re in. Being clear is especially important when you’re breaking a reader’s expectation; a good example is anal sex. Most people assume this is done doggy-style, but many heterosexual and homosexual couples prefer to have anal sex with the receiving person on his or her back. So, be sure to say “Erik lay on his back and put his legs up so I could see his asshole.” If you don’t know what the kind of sex you’re describing actually looks like, watch a porn, ask your friends or try it out at home.
Eek, Too Much!
Writers also go the other way and over-describe what their characters are doing. This can be not only boring, but it’s also confusing, because your reader doesn’t know what to focus on. Does it matter that his right thumb and pointer finger are tweaking her left nipple? Or is it more important that he is tweaking her nipple? Focus on the important body parts and movements and trust the reader to imagine the rest.
Eww-
Sometimes sex is just, well, unsexy. And I don’t mean this in terms of topics. After all, one reader’s squick is another’s favorite fantasy. What I’m talking about is something much more subtle. It’s in the author’s tone and the way they write about their characters. I’m amazed at the number of stories I read where the author doesn’t seem to delight in sex or has no respect or love for their characters. Be careful; if you have issues about certain kinds of sex or about people who partake in certain sex acts, you might want to steer clear of writing about those. You’d be surprised how much of your own prejudices come through on the page.
Overly Perfect Anything
This, for me, is the difference between erotica and porn. Porn has characters who are perfect (or who display a physique that is perceived as perfection). Erotica has characters who have imperfections. These can be physical or mental, and they are what make the characters — and the sex they have — come alive for readers. If you’re writing about a Pamela Andersen look-alike, she’d better be deeply bruised in the inside, or your reader may not care enough to keep reading.
Dangerous (And Not in a Good Way)
Erotica doesn’t always include safe sex. It is, after all, a fantasy world that we’re creating here. I don’t always include condoms and dental dams in my stories (and when I have, I’ve had editors remove them, saying that they detract from the sexy feel.).
Yet, there are some general common sense things that should avoided. The one I see most often is when a couple is engaged in anal play and they switch to vaginal play without washing themselves and/or switching condoms or toys. Another common mistake is putting a submissive character in real danger, such as leaving them tied up on the bed while the other character drives to the store. The difference, for me, is that many readers won’t notice if you leave out the concept of safe sex. But they will notice if you put in something that’s dangerous.
What’d You Call That?
When you describe a character’s anatomy, it’s important to get all the pieces-parts correct. Vagina is not an all-encompassing word for the female genitals (in fact, the vagina’s inside; vulva is the word used to collectively describe the external female genitals). Know the difference between testicles (the male counterpart to the female ovaries which produce sperm and male hormones) and the scrotum (loose pouch of skin that holds the testicles). It’s also important to know which slang terms relate to which organ of the body, so you don’t have readers imagining the wrong body part.
What’d You Call Me?
There are a lot of terms that are used within specific sex communities. Using these terms incorrectly can ruin a story’s authority. Do you know the differences between a dom and a top? How about a transsexual, a transvestite, a cross-dresser and a boi? If you’re not a member of the community that you’re writing about, it’s a good idea to research the proper terms, both out of respect to the community and to be sure you get it right.
Goody Two Shoes
As with everything, all of these rules are made to be broken, so don’t follow them too closely. The truth is, you can get away with anything as long as you know — and admit — that you’re doing it. If you’re trying to show control or domination, anal sex without proper lube might be the way to go. And if your character doesn’t know the difference between her vagina and her labia, that tells us something about her character. However, if you as the author, don’t know your perineum from your asshole, then that tells your editor something about you — and it isn’t a good thing.
Luckily, we live in a culture today where sex information is both abundant and mostly correct. There are number of great books, online sites and communities that will help you learn the proper terminology, safe sex options, bodily functions and everything else you need to know that will take your story from an almost-there to a yes.
More Places to Get It Right
- Minotaur’s Sex Tips for Slash Writers
- GLTB Slang Dictionary
- Sex-Lexis: The Language of Love, Lust, Sex
Coming in July: Climactic Moments: Putting together your first draft.
Shanna Germain
May/June 2007
“Sexy on the Page” © 2007 Shanna Germain. All rights reserved.