Monday, May 30, 2016
Saturday, May 28, 2016
Thursday, May 26, 2016
by Jean Roberta
Writing fiction set in the past (even a past era of the writer’s own lifetime) is a challenge because, as someone once said, the past is a foreign country; they do things differently there.
When writing a story set in the 1920s, I introduced my teenage female narrator to a handsome boy in her class in high school. His parents were friends of her parents, and now that her father is dead, his father is providing a salary for her mother, who works as his secretary. The boy likes the girl, and she is delighted to discover sexual pleasure with him when they are alone together. She is terrified of getting pregnant too soon, but he assures her that they are planning to marry anyway, so if they “start a family,” they only have to arrange an earlier wedding.
Realistically, my heroine knows she isn’t likely to get a better offer. She is also practical enough to know that she – a very intelligent person who is not male and not white – can’t leave home alone to seek her fortune and expect to be better off than she is in the relative safety of the community where she grew up.
In the real world, my young storyteller would probably settle, as so many women did in her time. Yet she really doesn’t want to marry her boyfriend. His chivalry often slides into condescension, even though she gets better grades in school than he does. Sex is a revelation to her, but does the ecstasy of his touch really mean that he is her soul-mate? She hasn’t had enough experience to know.
She has heard mutterings about sexually-experienced women: hoochie-coochie dancers who drink illegal booze in joints that cater to dangerous men. She doesn’t know how or where to apply for a job like that, but she knows how all her nearest and dearest would react if she did.
I don’t really know what better future I could provide for my character than marriage to her boyfriend, followed by childraising and membership in his church, one of the things they disagree about. The spell of historical fiction should not be broken by the intrusion of twenty-first century options and values.
Still, I want more for her. She wants more for herself, and she knows on a gut level that there must be a companion for her somewhere in the world who is more than “a good provider” with conventional beliefs.
I’ve always had trouble writing happy-ever-after endings, and I sometimes think this is because men and women still don’t really have equal status, even in Canada where we’ve had it in theory since the 1980s, according to a marvelous federal policy called the Charter of Equality Rights. However, the problem isn’t just a gender clash. Many a lesbian relationship has ended with hard feelings on both sides, and communities of gay men are also full of gothic stories about deception, heartbreak and violence – so I’ve heard.
In traditional romance plots, the lovers persevere despite threats to the relationship from other people and from each other. They have faith that in the long run, being together will be much better for both of them than being apart, and so it turns out. Most people claim to admire long-term relationships, but only if no one is being exploited, abused, or diminished in any way. That’s a big if.
In fiction, as in life, I worry about exaggerating the fault-lines that exist in every relationship, but I also worry about limiting a character’s potential by keeping her in a trap. There were several notable differences between my parents besides gender, but if they hadn’t stayed together for the first seven years of their marriage, I would never have been conceived. To honour my own roots, I should probably value sacrifice and compromise, even in a fictional world.
One of the appealing qualities of a short story, as distinct from a novel, is that not all questions have to be answered. The plot can end on a hopeful note, with an implication that the central character(s) will boldly go to an unknown destination. So I keep writing in order to discover new plots. Maybe some day I’ll have a clearer sense of when a happy ending requires an escape, and when it requires a commitment.
Tuesday, May 24, 2016
by Kathleen Bradean
As many of you know, I write a fantasy thriller series under another name. A character in the third book in the series suffers from arthritis so severe that he can barely use his hands. He's an elderly gent, recently retired, and still has an eye for the ladies. I got a very sweet thank you note about that.
While I wrote him as elderly, I knew a guy in high school with this problem. His fingers were permanently curled into fists even though he had several operations to cut the tendons in the hopes that his fingers could straighten out. And they would, for about six months, before slowly clenching again. A teenager stuck with the hands of an old man. Everyone past a certain age knows what it's like to feel like you're twenty or thirty until a mirror cruelly reminds you that no, you're not. Inside, you're a very different person than you are on the outside.
We don't see enough people like this erotica. We don't see them in real life and definitely not in our stories. In real life, we can't seem to bear the idea of anyone with physical problems being a sexual person. It seems a real taboo.
I'm not fond of fatal disease porn, those romantic stories about angelic people teaching important life lessons before dying from cancer. Mawkish sentimentality I think is the usual critique, but I think it's worse than that. It makes being ill and bearing it bravely all a person is. It makes illness seem like a key to higher insight about the human condition. It takes away a person's right to be furious that their body is betraying them just when things are getting good. And it might make a normal person who might have a real reason to complain about their plight from time to time feel as if they're somehow experiencing their life wrong.
So while I don't advocate that approach to characters, I think we need to push boundaries this way. We need to examine why the thought of a differently abled person having sex makes us so uncomfortable, and why sexy is the hardest attribute to accept for them.
Posted by Kathleen Bradean at 1:08 AM
Saturday, May 21, 2016
Thursday, May 19, 2016
It's May, it's May, the lusty month of May...
That gorgeous month when everyone goes blissfully astray.
Celebrate the lusty month of May (which also happens to be National Masturbation Month) by sharing a sexy snippet!
The ERWA blog is not primarily intended for author promotion. However, we've decided we should give our author/members an occasional opportunity to expose themselves (so to speak) to the reading public. Hence, we have declared the 19th of every month at the Erotica Readers and Writers Association blog Sexy Snippet Day.
On Sexy Snippet day, any author can post a tiny excerpt (200 words or less) in a comment on the day's post. Include the title from with the snippet was extracted, your name or pseudonym, and one buy link.
Please post excerpts only from published work (or work that is free for download), not works in progress. The goal, after all, is to titillate your readers and seduce them into buying your books!
Feel free to share this with erotic author friends. It's an open invitation!
Of course I expect you to follow the rules. One snippet per author, please. If your excerpt is more than 200 words or includes more than one link, I'll remove your comment and prohibit you from participating in further Sexy Snippet days. I'll say no more!
After you've posted your snippet, feel free to share the post as a whole to Facebook, Twitter, or wherever else you think your readers hang out.
Wednesday, May 18, 2016
The goal of the writer of historical fiction is to bring the past vividly to life with as much authenticity as possible. The materials we can draw from are varied: diaries, novels, oral histories, contemporary articles and advertisements, historical studies of political and social life, photographs and paintings. For those of us seeking a sense of the erotic, we often must read between the lines due to the conventions of respectability. But occasionally, as with the erotic letters of James Joyce, the past does hand us an illuminating gift.
This month, I’d like to share another favorite sexy treasure I discovered—the “peeping-at-undressed-ladies” drawings of John Sloan. Now on first consideration, you might think photographs would provide the most “realistic” visual inspiration to recreate life in New York City of one hundred years ago. And indeed, the photographs of that time are helpful in terms of setting the scene. However, when it comes to a sense of what it was like to be in the city, to encounter its vitality and variety by both day and night, the work of the Ashcan School—artists including John Sloan who strove to portray the truth of modern life in the city—provides the most satisfying glimpse into the libidinous desire of the early 1900s.
Take, for example, the drawing above, Turning Out the Light (1905). From reading Sloan’s diary, John Sloan's New York Scene, 1906-1913, I know that the artist drew material from intimate scenes he spied through New York's windows. As evening fell, a lighted room in a neighboring apartment could indeed provide a provocative show. Generally speaking, detailed accounts of what went on in bedrooms in the early 1900s are quite rare, but Sloan’s drawing is worth more than a thousand words. Women in those times were officially passive in bed, but the voluptuous woman in this drawing is clearly in control. It is she who takes the initiative to begin the amorous encounter by turning off the light while her lover waits in anticipation. The glance between them leaves no doubt at the pleasure to come. The petticoat over the chair, the stocking over the headboard, the fact she must hold up her shift, which had probably already been pulled from her shoulders during foreplay suggests that some of the preliminaries have already been observed by the artist. This glimpse of the moment before offers delicious food for the imagination.
Roofs, Summer Night (1906) treats a city custom of the less affluent—seeking relief from the heat on a sultry summer night. Apparently the whole tenement building camped out on mattresses on the rooftop, the women stripping to their shifts (a long slip worn next to the skin). Here instead of being the sole voyeur, as we were in Turning Out the Light, we also observe another's voyeurism. Note the clear fascination of the man with the mustache at the right of the picture with a voluptuous woman who is not his wife (presuming the woman beside sleeping him is his spouse). The man’s desire imbues the scene with an extra kick of sexual tension that would not be present in a scene of only sleeping figures.
Sloan dials the voyeurism up even higher in Night Windows (1910). A dark male figure spies on a woman at her evening toilette, illuminated in her window as if she is on a stage, yet presumably innocent of the illicit pleasure she provides. Again it is hard not to connect the lurking male figure with the scantily clad woman taking down the laundry from the clothesline right below him, although of course the connection is less definite than the couple in the previously discussed community sleep out. But look a little closer and you'll see another man inside that apartment, appreciating his wife's shift-clad behind. Yes, life in the city is a feast of endless temptations for admiring eyes.
Of course, my favorite of these three is Turning Out the Light for its frank portrayal of female desire, pleasure and agency, but the erotic yearnings of the men in the early 1900s are just as pleasurably exposed through John Sloan’s windows into the male sensibility. Although I work in prose, I’m very grateful to him for sharing with the viewers of 2016 these visions of nights of long ago.
Donna George Storey is the author of Amorous Woman and a collection of short stories, Mammoth Presents the Best of Donna George Storey. Learn more about her work at www.DonnaGeorgeStorey.com or http://www.facebook.com/DGSauthor
Sunday, May 15, 2016
“He is so hot when his cock is being used. It brings him into himself, straightens his shoulders, stirs his pride. He knows he is skilled at this.
My boy is focused. It’s not about his pleasure—it’s about you—and he is so focused on you that you feel larger, immense, like you fill the entire room. Abe only wants to give you what you need, to create the kinds of sensations you most enjoy, and he pays such close attention. His gaze and focus are mighty things, and as I watched him turn them to Marcus, watched him serve in this particular way, I filled with pride that he was mine. It made my dick throb. Watching him steadily piston Marcus was intensely hot, but it also lit me up to watch him take such pride in his service. That’s my boy, I kept thinking. That’s my boy.”
“Téo knew his line. He’d been waiting for it, to claim this gender that fit so right, in front of queers who actually got it. He swallowed around the fear rising in his throat. “I am a tender…,” he whispered, then stopped. It turned out it was harder to say than he’d thought.
Mikey met his gaze, gripped his face in her paw, and said, “What was that? Old tigers like me need it a bit louder.”
Dax took the opportunity to spread his thighs with hir claws, and Lee bit down on his stomach. Damn. Rebecca came over to hold his hand. That helped. Jericho came over to their boy and laid their hand on his shoulder. Rusty still hadn’t let go of his curls, but that felt grounding now.
“Looks tender,” said Xóchi, who had pulled up on the other side of his stomach with her knife out, and was tracing it along his collarbone, up toward his face.
Fuck, okay, he said to himself. You can’t talk when you aren’t breathing. You can do this. Let it out. It came out in a whimper, which only made Xóchi grin and press the knife deeper into his skin. Lee was nuzzling his stomach again, and Mikey held him captive in her gaze. Why couldn’t he look away? Why was it so damn hard to say?
Mikey’s eyes were warm and firm all at the same time. Her gaze said, Take your time. We are here. We know it’s hard. We’ve got you.”
Wednesday, May 11, 2016
By Sam Thorne, Storytime Editor-in-Chief
- frustrate your main characters’ (MCs) aims
- show what’s important to your MCs by creating inner conflict
Clare checked her texts for traffic updates and found one from Mark, sent just a couple of minutes ago.Geoff’s off sick. Any chance you can get in early for hand-over?She flicked a glance at the time—07:15—and bit her lip. So long as she got out now, and the A316 was clear, she’d have a few minutes alone with him before shift started. To hand over, of course. She thumbed back On my way and shoved her mobile into her back pocket.Clare didn’t hear any movement from Lisa’s bedroom, but picked her way towards the front door nonetheless, treading only on the non-creaking floorboards. She passed the hall table, sliding her keys into her palm. She had her hand on the latch when she heard a sniff. Her heart fell.Don’t look round.‘Clare?’ Lisa’s voice had that tell-tale waver. ‘Have you got a minute?’Damn it!‘It’s just…I heard from Joe last night. He’s not doing well.’Clare longed to be able to say ‘sorry to hear that’ and make a run for it, but Joe had been ill. And if it were her brother going in and out of hospital, she’d need a bit of support.Suppressing the sigh, she turned and gave Lisa a hug.
1) Next time you’re up at two in the morning, replaying an argument in your head and gnashing your teeth, get up and write down some of the things you wish you’d said. If nothing else, it might help you sleep better. Anger-induced insomnia is usually a sign of repressed resentment. Tap into that resentment more closely and you’ll find a golden stockpile of material for internal conflict.
2) Make a list of love-to-hate characters in movies and TV. What makes them so infuriating? Can you transplant that behaviour/trait to a different context?
3) Read books on coping with idiots at the office. They feature long lists of aggravating behaviours which you can apply to just about any situation. Some good guides are:
Dealing with Difficult People (Drs Rick Brinkman & Rick Kirschner)
The Way of the Rat: A Survival Guide to Office Politics (by Joep P.M. Schrijvers)
4) Finally, watch and listen to stand-up comedians. They usually have some kind of routine that kicks off with some variation of: ‘I can’t stand it when…’ If they make you laugh, jot their point down. If you can identify with it, so will many, many others.