Writers are often asked \u201cwhere do you get your ideas from?\u201d It\u2019s a valid question. My usual response (I steal plots) is probably not a valid answer. However, \u201cwhere do you get your ideas from?\u201d is not a question that\u2019s often levelled at erotic fiction writers. I think the reason for this is that most people know where we get our ideas from. We erotic fiction writers get our ideas from having sex.<\/p>\n
Admittedly, this is the other reason why I invariably take a fat pencil into the bedroom. I did try using a pen in the bedroom but it would often lead to making a terrible mess on the sheets. And sometimes the pen would dribble ink. There were occasions when I tried to take a laptop into the bedroom for the purpose of making notes for story ideas. However, I can\u2019t do that any longer since my floppy has become obsolete.<\/p>\n
Of course there are disadvantages to using this method for collecting and remembering ideas. The main problem is that it means having to have sex with the lights on. I don\u2019t like this kinky variation on traditional missionary-position-in-the-dark-lie-back-and-think-of-England sex. If the good Lord had meant us to see what we were doing in the bedroom he wouldn\u2019t have made sex happen at night.<\/p>\n
And I\u2019m not alone in thinking that sex with the lights on is unnatural.<\/p>\n
My wife (rightly) objects to sex with the lights on unless she\u2019s wearing the blindfold or (as an alternative) I\u2019m wearing the gas mask to improve my appearance. I\u2019ve repeatedly told her that the gas mask doesn\u2019t improve my appearance \u2013 it hides my face. However, she insists that this is a considerable improvement.<\/p>\n
So, we get our ideas whilst we\u2019re having sex.<\/p>\n
I don\u2019t just mean erotic fiction writers get their ideas whilst having sex. My wife had an idea to plaster the bedroom ceiling the other week. That thought came to her whilst she wasn\u2019t wearing the blindfold. By the time we\u2019d finished that particular session she\u2019d come up with ideas for new curtains, improved wardrobe space and an improvement on the room\u2019s Feng Shui that would harmonise our entire lives. It had clearly been quite a productive three minutes.<\/p>\n
She\u2019s also had ideas for modifying my gas mask so that it doesn\u2019t make a Darth-Vader-esque wheezing sound every time I happen on the prospect of an exciting story development. That idea wasn\u2019t particularly great because the modification meant my brain stopped receiving oxygen for half an hour, although it\u2019s not like it caused any permanent brain lettuce.<\/p>\n
I find it\u2019s quite stimulating to think about character development, plot lines and Freytag\u2019s pyramid during intercourse. It certainly beats trying to remember the more mundane things relating to sex, such as where I put the salad tongs and whose turn is to use the stapler.<\/p>\n
Only last week, during our monthly episode of congress (please excuse the dirty language there but we\u2019re all adults reading this, aren\u2019t we?) I had a brilliant idea for a novel. I say it was last week, it could have been the month before because we\u2019re like rabbits and we do it every fourth Saturday night whether I want to or not! But, during coitus (there\u2019s some more of that dirty language) I had a brilliant idea for a novel that I knew would be a bestseller and the source of international literary acclaim.<\/p>\n