Confessions of a Literary Streetwalker: Fetishes

(the following is part of an ongoing series of columns I did for The Erotica Readers & Writers Association on the ins and outs and ins and outs and ins and outs of writing good smut)


Of all the things to write, I feel one of the all-time toughest has got to be fetish erotica. Gay or lesbian - or straight if you're gay or lesbian or bisexual - is a piece of cake. I mean take a quick look at it: the elements of arousal are obvious, just insert body part of preference and go with it. For gay erotica it's male body, for lesbians it's female. For straight it's the opposite. You don't have to create the ideal man or woman, in fact it's better to describe someone (the lust object) who is a bit more ... real. Perfection is dull, and can be bad story telling, but a body with its share of wrinkles, blemishes, or sags can ad dimension and depth.

Same with the motivation, the inner world of your character. I've said it before but it bears repeating: the trick to writing beyond your own gender or orientation is in projecting your own mental landscape into the mind of your character. You may not know how gay sex, lesbian sex, or straight sex feels (pick the opposite of your own gender) but you do know what love, affection, hope, disappointment, or even just human skin feels like. Remember that, bring it to you character and your story, and you'll be able to draw a reader in.

But fetishes ... fetishes are tougher. Just to be momentarily pedantic, Webster's says that fetishes are: "an object or body part whose real or fantasied presence is psychologically necessary for sexual gratification." That's pretty accurate - or good enough for us here - but the bottom line is that fetishes are a sexual obsession that may or may not directly relate to sex. Some pretty common ones are certain hair colors, body types, smells, tastes, clothing, and so forth.

We all have them to some degree. Just to open the field to discussion, I like breasts. But even knowing I have them doesn't mean I can't really explain why I like big ones. It's really weird. I mean, I can write about all kinds of things but when I try and figure out what exactly the allure of large hooters is for me I draw a blank. The same and even more so used to happen when I tried and write about other people's fetishes.

But I have managed to learn a couple of tricks about it, in the course of my writing as well as boobie dwelling (hey, there are worse ways to spend an afternoon). I've come up with two ways of approaching a fetish, at least from a literary standpoint. The first to remember that fetishes are like sex under a microscope, that part of their power is in focusing on one particular behavior or body part. Let's use legs as an example. For the die-hard leg fetishist their sexuality (all or just a small part) is wrapped around the perfect set of limbs. For a leg man, or woman, the appeal is in that slow, careful depiction of those legs. The sex that happens after that introduction may be hot, but you can't get away with just saying he or she had "a great set of gams." Details! There has to be details - but not just any mind you. For people into a certain body type or style the words themselves are important. I remember writing a leg fetish story and having it come back from the editor with a list of keywords to insert into the story, the terms his readers would respond to, demanded in their stories. Here's where research comes in: a long, slow description is one thing but to make your fetish story work you have to get your own list of button-pushing terminology.

The second approach is to understand that very often fetishes are removed from the normal sexual response cycle. For many people, the prep for a fetish is as important, if not as important, as the act itself. For latex fans - just to use an extreme example - the talcum powder and shaving before even crawling into their rubber can be just as exciting as the black stretchy stuff itself. For a fetish story, leaping into the sex isn't as important as the prep to get to it - even if you do. Another example that springs to mind is a friend of mine who was an infantilist - and before you leap to your own Webster's that means someone who likes to dress up as someone much younger. For him, the enjoyment was only partially in the costume and roll-playing. A larger part of his dress-up and tea parties was in masturbating afterward: in other words the fetish act wasn't sex, it was building a more realistic fetish fantasy for self-pleasure afterwards. Not that all of your literary experiments need to be that elaborate but it does show that for a serious fetishist the span what could be considered 'sex' can be pretty wide.

The why to try your hand at fetish erotica I leave to you - except to say what I've said before: that writing only what you know can lead to boredom for you and your readers. Try new things, experiment, take risks. In the case of fetishes, it can only add to your own sensitivity and imagination - both in terms of writing and story-telling but maybe even in the bedroom.

And who could argue with that?

Confessions of a Literary Streetwalker: The End of Erotica

(the following is part of an ongoing series of columns I did for The Erotica Readers & Writers Association on the ins and outs and ins and outs and ins and outs of writing good smut)


In an interview on ERA, William Dean asked me "From your experience, what are we, as erotica readers and writers, apt to see as trends in the coming year?" After answering him I got to thinking about the future of erotica and where it could go - or, since it is my column after all, where I want to see it go.

My answer? I want erotica to vanish, to disappear as a literary genre, to utterly and completely GO AWAY.

Biting the hand that's fed me? Sour grapes? Making noise for the sake of noise? None of the above: hear me out.

Erotica exists because a need wasn't being met. Readers looked around at movies, books, television, and every other media and noticed that something was missing. Rob and Laura Petrie had twin beds, Ricky Ricardo and Lucy pulled off a trick not seen since Mary got knocked up by a ghost: a virgin (as far as we know) birth. If a book managed to actually talk about what happened behind closed doors and under the sheets, it was immediately banned, burned, or branded INDECENT.

So, erotica: a peek behind those doors and under those covers. Sex was out in the open and, more importantly, it was profitable. Sex sold, and very well - and with anything that sells well, the people doing the selling began to make more and more and more of it.

That, in itself, isn't a bad thing. After all, if sex didn't sell we wouldn't have MTV, Fox, beer ads, Britney Spears, Ron Jeremy, the entire literary erotica genre, or even the Erotica Readers and Writers Association and my column. But all this and more is popular, and remains popular, because it doesn't exist anywhere else.

Pick up a book, switch on the tube, plop down half your paycheck for a movie ticket and sure there might be hints, suggestions, or allusions but that'll be it. The world remains a place where giving head gets an X, cutting off a head only gets an R.

Meanwhile, out here in the wild woolies of smut writing, we continue to write books and stories that address what no one else seems to be talking about: sex. The problem is that for the longest time, we were part of an opposite but equal problem, which was talking about nothing but sex.

Luckily this has been changing. It used to be that just simply writing s-e-x was enough, but as the public started to get more, they also began asking for more. Editors, publishers and more importantly readers have responded by demanding erotica with depth, meaning, wit, style, and sophistication - and writers have been doing exactly that, pushing the boundaries of what sex writing can be.

The result? Erotica writers have created a genre worthy of respect and serious, non-genre attention. This is a great time to be working in this field, because for the first time writing about sex is not a guarantee of condemnation or exile to a professional Elba. Erotica writers are breaking out and otherwise mainstream publishers are being to pay serious attention not only to the marketability of sex but because of what's developed in the genre, they can sell it without blushing.

This is a good thing for another, more important reason. Crystal ball time: As erotica becomes more and more refined and mature, more elegant and accepted, it may very well begin to be accepted as a valid and respected form of literature. But what I really hope will happen is what's happened with many other genres: assimilation. It used to be that anything to do with time travel, aliens, or space travel was exiled to science fiction. Then came a renaissance in that genre, and a subsequent use of the old elements in new ways - Kurt Vonnegut comes immediately to mind. The same thing has happened with mysteries, horror, romance, comic books (excuse me, 'graphic novels'), television, and so forth.

As the sexually explicit techniques and methods developed in erotica permeate other genres, the need for erotica as its own separate, unique place in bookstores will fade, then vanish. Erotica will become what it always should have been: a part of life, legitimate and respected - not something to be ashamed of, hidden away, or even just separate.

How will that serve us, the erotica-writing world? Wonderfully, I think. Erotica is fun, I definitely believe that, but it's only one genre. As we become better and better writers, trying new things, new techniques, dipping our toes in new pools, other venues will open up, other - better - playgrounds to frolic in.

Sure it might be scary, once erotica merges with the rest of the world and fades away as a genre in its own right. But think of how much better that world will be, a place where sex is something to be talked about, celebrated, and understood without fear or shame.

Our genre may disappear, could utterly and completely go away - but we will have accomplished something remarkable: We changed the world.

Confessions of a Literary Streetwalker: Staying Fresh

(the following is part of an ongoing series of columns I did for The Erotica Readers & Writers Association on the ins and outs and ins and outs and ins and outs of writing good smut)


This month’s Streetwalker comes from a suggestion by the wonderful Adrienne here at ERA. When I asked her for some possible topics to cover she gave me: “How about plot ideas, how to keep works fresh and unique and advice on where to look for plot/character inspiration?” If anyone else has any ideas for columns, by the way, please feel free to zap them to me and I’ll consider them.

Now I’ve sort of touched on keeping an eye out for story ideas before, but it bears exploring a bit more. Keeping your work fresh is more than a little important for any writer, especially for smut authors.

For me, stories are everywhere – and to be honest I don’t think I’m special. It’s all a matter of keeping your eyes open, but most importantly PLAYING with the world around you.

It should be obvious that in order to write about the world you need to know something about it, but what a lot of people don’t seem to realize is that sitting in a coffee shop, scribbling away in a notebook while you ponder the imponderables of human nature isn’t likely to yield anything usable. Getting your hands dirty, though, will.

By that I mean really exploring yourself as well as other people. Look at who you are, why you do what you do – both emotionally as well as sexually. The same goes for the people around you. Spend some time really thinking about them, their motivations, their pleasures, or what experiences they may have had.

Dig deep -- ponder their reactions as well as your own. Sharpen your perceptions. Why do they say what they say? What do people admire? Why? What do they despise? Why? That last question should almost always be in your mind – directed outward as well as inward: why? This depth of understanding, or just powerful examination, is a great tool for developing both stories as well as characters.

Along with studying the world, pay attention to good work no matter where you find it. A lot of writing teachers tell students to get intimate with the classics – which I agree with, but also think it’s equally important to recognize great writing even when it’s on the back of a cereal box. Read a lot, see a lot of movies, watch a lot of TV – and pay attention when something good, or great, comes along. Don’t dismiss anything until you’ve tried it, at least for a little while. Examples? Romance novels, comic books, documentaries, sitcoms, cartoon shows, old radio shows, pulps, westerns, and so forth. There’s gold all around you, if you dig around enough

Not for the fun – playing. Look at that guy sitting over there, the one by the window: Heavy, messy hair, chewing with his mouth open – easy to peg him as lonely, creepy, or even seriously perverse. Easy is a shortcut, easy is dull, easy is lazy. Instead try seeing him as something completely different than your initial assessment. Maybe his mind is lovely and musical. Perhaps his touch is gentle and loving. Who knows, maybe he’s a sex magnet – with more boyfriends/girlfriends than he knows what to do with.

Say you’ve stumbled on a particularly good book, show, series, or whatever. Great, bravo, applause – now write something like it. Who cares that the show will never, ever look at your story, or that the medium is long dead (like radio drama). Do it anyway. Have fun – PLAY! Get into the habit of automatically either writing your own version or fixing what you see as a flaw in the original. If you’re reading a book, stop halfway through and finish it in your mind – and then when you do finally turn that last page was your version better? If not then what did the author do that you didn’t?

I love coming attractions, the trailers for movies. Watching them, I always make up my own movie based on what I’ve seen. Sometimes it’s better – at least I think so – sometimes not, then I look at what the director did better than I did when the flick finally comes out.

Playing and watching, studying, that’s the ticket. If you keep your mind sharp, notice details, and examine yourself and the world around you as well as challenging and playing with story ideas, then writing a story for a very specific Call for Submission or for some other strange project will be easy and your story will be original and fresh.

Confessions of a Literary Streetwalker: What's Next?

(the following is part of an ongoing series of columns I did for The Erotica Readers & Writers Association on the ins and outs and ins and outs and ins and outs of writing good smut)


A fellow pornographer startled me the other day when she said that she wanted to be "the best erotica writer." I couldn't help but applaud and also be a bit disappointed. I mean, why stop there?

I mean erotica is fine and good and to reuse one of my favorite lines "it's been very, very good to me," but it isn't the only thing out there. Why stop with writing just smut?

Aside from the expansion of your potential sales arena, there are lots of other great reasons to try your hand at other genres. Erotica isn't just about sex, it's merged and melded with all kinds of other genres - mainstream, science fiction, horror, fantasy, and all the rest of them - or, it could be argued, erotica is nothing but those genres with the sex put back in. In any case, increasing your hand in other genres can't do anything but add something extra to your smut.

But we're still talking about smut. Okay, wanting to be great in anything is a noble effort but it's still trying to be big in a relatively small pond. Writing other things is it's own reward.

I know that's a scary thought, especially if you're either beginning to get comfortable with being an erotica writer or even building up some respectable credits. It's definitely not easy to jump into a whole new genre and basically start from scratch.

But you know what? Writing is hard. When it stops being hard maybe it's time to give up and do something else. No, I'm not saying that it never gets easier, just that writing is a process, and as with all good processes there's a good deal of stretching and straining that goes into it. Staying with just one kind of writing, or genre, is fine and fun but playing it safe and easy can make a writer lazy, and worst of all - dull.

Besides, you don't know what you might be great at. Sure you may be a fine and dandy erotica writer but you could be a real kick-ass non-fiction, horror, romance, mystery, thriller and so forth writer. You won't know until you try.

Certainly there's a chance of failure, of being rejected, but at least you would have done what few people have done: tried to stretch your ability, or writer's voice. Here's something else to think of: in all the world you're doing very few people would even dream of do, let alone have the courage to do - be a writer. That's the hard part. Trying to write something else, that's easy by comparison.

Confessions of a Literary Streetwalker: SHUT UP!

(the following is part of an ongoing series of columns I did for The Erotica Readers & Writers Association on the ins and outs and ins and outs and ins and outs of writing good smut)

You've seen them everywhere on the web: Amazon, Netflix, the Internet Movie Database - and too many more to name. They are usually called different things depending on the site, but each and every one boils down the same thing: the chance for some ignorant yahoo to express his or her American Right of Free Speech. "Reader Reviews," "Featured Member Reviews," or "Customer Reviews," call them what you will but I always think - or even say - the same thing when I see them: Shut Up!

I've said it before and I'll say it again, creating anything is damned hard work. Movies, books, plays, music, painting - anything. It takes determination, lots of failures, facing a lot of personal demons, and a hellava lot of other icky stuff just to make something out of nothing, let alone send it out there into the world. What needlessly makes it harder is when that work is splattered by some unenlightened pinhead who feels that because they CAN say something nasty, they SHOULD.

Sour grapes? You betcha. But believe it or not, this isn't about anything I've written. Instead, this rant is about the reviews I've seen for what I thought where thoroughly excellent movies, books or what have you - demeaned if not ruined by droolers who can't wait to show off their 'smarts' by trashing something that took an author, painter, musician or movie crew years to create. Oh, yes, I've heard it all before: the sacredness of Free Speech, the Web as "the great equalizer," the chance for the "little guy" to be heard. I'm all for intelligent discussions and thoughtful criticism but if you can't be intelligent, can't manage thoughtful then keep your gob shut.

What does this have to do with writing? Well, aside from perhaps putting a dollop of empathy in those of you out there who like to post bad reader reviews, this is also about how to give good criticism.

Too often writers work in the dark, meaning they have absolutely no idea if their work is any good. They show it to mothers, fathers, boyfriends, girlfriends and so forth who obviously are not going to say anything but "fantastic, honey!" The only other option is to find a writer's group, a bunch of folks who share the same goal: to write as well as they can. The problem is, writer's groups way too often catch the same pitiful disease that infects Reader's Review posters. Straight up insults or what are thought to be 'witty' jokes fly, personal tastes get in the way, jealousy clouds respect, "old hands" turn into "old crows," and people get hurt for no good reason.

Rule of Thumb for Giving Good Criticism #1: Don't give criticism that you wouldn't like to get. Think before telling or writing anything about another writer. Put yourself in their shoes - especially if it's someone just starting out. Would you like to hear that your story "sucked?" Of course not, so don't say it.

Rule of Thumb for Giving Good Criticism #2: Don't be "funny." Make jokes on your own time, not at the expense of someone else. Criticism is not your stage; it's talking about someone else's. If you want applause, get up there on the stage yourself. Otherwise see the title of this column.

Rule of Thumb for Giving Good Criticism #3: Give as well as take. Never give a completely bad review of someone else's work. A lot of things go into a story: plot, characterizations, dialogue, descriptions, pacing, - it all can't be bad. I've very often hated a film (for example) but loved the soundtrack, one special actor, the dialogue in one scene, whatever. Leave the author something that they did well, even if it was just that the paper was clean.

Rule of Thumb for Giving Good Criticism #4: This story wasn't written for you. The fact that the story didn't turn you on is your problem, not the author's. I can't say this enough. If you hate westerns but you have to critique someone's western story don't say you hate westerns - or do I really have to be that obvious?

Rule of Thumb for Giving Good Criticism #5: Leave your baggage at home. If you don't like the 'politics' in a story, then shut up. If you don't enjoy a certain kind of food mentioned in a story, then shut up. If you don't like a kind of sex in a story, then shut up. If you don't like - you get the point.

Rule of Thumb for Giving Good Criticism #6: Be specific. No, not down to word and sentence, but rather avoid saying things like the plot was "bad," or "dumb," or "predictable." Rather, give useful information: "There was too much foreshadowing, especially on page two. I could see the ending coming from then on."

I could go on but I hope I've made my point. If I could sum all this up into a rather long fortune cookie it would be to try and remember that it's easier to criticize than create, but more important to create than criticize - or at least help create, rather than harm.

Confessions of a Literary Street Walker: Why Not?

(the following is part of an ongoing series of columns I did for The Erotica Readers & Writers Association on the ins and outs and ins and outs and ins and outs of writing good smut)

This month's column comes from a request by my pal Tulsa Brown. Tulsa, and many folks on the ERWA list, have been frustrated by rejections for stories that seem to be just what the editor would be looking for: smart, stylish, deep, interesting, heartfelt, and all the rest. A sure winner, right? But even though Tulsa, and a lot of other writers, are trying their best, their labors of love keep getting shot down.

But first, a quick word about rejection slips. One of the other questions Tulsa asked was if those 'notes of doom' editors send out to let you know your baby isn't what they want for their precious anthology, are honest. Do they really express how the editor feels about your work? No, they don't. Now that doesn't mean that some editors aren't being sincere when they send out their rejections - especially if they include a personal message with their generic rejection - but it's just about impossible for one editor to write everyone who didn't make the cut. Answer: the form rejection letter. They can be polite ("Sorry, your story didn't meet the needs of our publication"), cold ("Your submission was not satisfactory"), sympathetic ("I know how tough this is") or even rude ("Don't you EVER send me this drivel again") but they mean the same thing: better luck next time.

But there is a bright side - really. Think of it this way; at least that editor spent the time to send those notes out. There are still some cowardly editors out there (shame, shame) who never reject; you just hear that your friends were accepted (and obviously you weren't) or the book comes out and you're not in it. At least getting a note - any note - means that you can now send the story somewhere else.

Now then, the Great Secret of Being Accepted. Ready? You sure?

Okay, okay, put the baseball bat down. The Great Secret of Being Accepted is ....

There isn't one!

If there were, don't you think I'd be selling it? If there were, then why the HELL do I still get rejected?

The fact is that even though you think, hope, and work really hard to give editors exactly what they want, the decision is still very subjective. In my own case, I've been rejected because:

a) The story is too long by a few hundred words
b) Didn't get aroused reading my story
c) There is already a story selected that's set in New York City
d) The editor doesn't like the use of certain 'words' in a story
e) The publisher may object to it
f) Some of the sex is 'objectionable.'

Now I've never used any of these reasons - either subconsciously or consciously - in rejecting a story, but that's just me. Every editor is unique, as are the criteria for taking (or not taking) a story. At first, that seems like a situation that should, nay must, be corrected somehow but that's just the way the world works. The editor is the boss and he or she is trying to put together the best book they can, using what stories they got, according to their own call for submissions. If there was a concrete method for selecting stories, we'd have books by machine, and anthologies created by a precise formula. Luckily for the reader, we don't, but this lack of a more scientific (or at least quantifiable) method for picking stories can be very frustrating for the writer.

If it helps, rejection never gets any easier to give or to get. As an editor, I hate to give them out, but have to because I feel writers deserve to know whether they made they cut. I'm also in a position of having to put together the best anthology - as I see it. As a writer, I still get rejection notices and will get even more in the future. It's simply part of the writing life; good, bad, or indifferent. The only remedy I can offer is to keep writing because - as I've said before - the only way a writer fails is not when they get rejected but when they stop writing.

And by keeping at it - trying to write each story better than the last one, never giving up - you'll stay on the road to becoming perhaps not a great writer but at least a better one; published, rejected, or not.

Confessions of a Literary Street Walker: Tooting

(the following is part of an ongoing series of columns I did for The Erotica Readers & Writers Association on the ins and outs and ins and outs and ins and outs of writing good smut)


There are a lot of myths about being a writer: Fame, fortune, tweed coats with leather patches, million dollar advances, movie deals, publisher-sponsored book tours and so forth. Not that there aren't a few instances of these things actually being true, but for their rarity they might as well be right up there with unicorns and trolls under bridges.

For the most part these fables only turn a smile into a frown for the newly published writer, but with book tours and publicity the affect can be much more traumatic: the writer who depends only on their publisher for publicity is quickly going to find their book remaindered, their work quickly forgotten.

Certainly some publishers are very good about heralding their books - like Alyson Books, who I've worked with several times - but that still doesn't mean they're going to do all the work. It all comes down to numbers: even a great publisher has a LOT of books to sell; they simply don't have time or resources to publicize each and every one. Most of the time you're lucky that the publisher sends out a dozen or so review copies or galleys - let alone does the legwork and makes the calls to drum up interest. Getting your book published, in other words, is just part of the battle: you have to do even more work to get your work noticed.

There is a fine line in publicity, one that's way too easy to cross: one side is humility and invisibility, on the other is hyperbole and arrogance. The trick, obviously, is to try and put you and your work somewhere between the two. I wish I could say I'm good at this, but to be honest I have the same problem other writers have in regards to publicity: you don't know you've become one or the other until it's almost too late.

Publicity usually takes several forms, but what I usually do just a few - mainly because I have a full-time job and my time is limited: press releases, readings, and interviews. Press releases are simple in concept, but take some skill in creating effectively: they should be short, a page to a page in a half, be attractive to various media outlets (magazines, radio, Web sites, etc.), and give all the info they need to write up something about your book. For interviews, you can create your own - which works quite often - or ask a friend or regular interviewer to do one and send it out with your press stuff. Readings are tougher, as it usually requires quite a bit of time (research, phone calls, sending our press stuff) and the rewards are scant, but it can get your name out there - especially to bookstores that, after all, buy your books.

Speaking of books, many publishers give free copies of your book, but only so many. I always buy 30-40 copies of whatever I do and then spend about $4 each sending them off with press releases and interviews to all kinds of friends, reviews, magazines and Web sites. Yes, it is unfair that you have to buy your own books - though most publishers give you as much as a 50% discount, which is nice - but that's the facts of life. Besides, if a copy you buy gets enough publicity to sell more books then it's more than worth it.

A Web site listing your accomplishments, contact info, and reviews is also a very good idea. Try and keep it professional, lean, and easy to access (no flash or java). Don't date it unless you plan on updating it regularly (unlike me), and don't put anything up there you wouldn't want your parents to see - erotica can make a lot of media nervous and you don't want to scare them off.

As for what to say and how to avoid sounding like a self-important jerk easy, take a good look at what you've accomplished and try and present it realistically, though attractive enough for a reviewer to pick up. Try and get some nice juicy blurbs from other writers, especially those who you recognize and respect (or who sell books). In your press release, mention and quote any reviews you may have gotten (though be careful of getting permission - some don't care, others are very prickly about such things). Avoid hyperbole in describing yourself or your accomplishments - this might work in getting your name out there, but can cause problems when other writers, editors and publishers get annoyed at you calling yourself "the greatest living American writer," or some such - though if a lot of other, neutral folks have called you that then go for it. Also, try and keep your announcements down to a dull roar - or set up an email list so people at least know that it's a regular thing and not just an "I'm fantastic" email that comes in your mailing every few months, unsolicited.

Another cold hard fact about publicity is that it usually only works for books - short stories in anthology, magazines, and Web sites simply aren't impressive enough to warrant a press release. The best you can do for shorts in magazines, Web site and anthologies is volunteer yourself for readings and offer possible reviewers or interviewers for the editor.

Doing publicity always reminds me of the joke where a man is constantly entreating God to let him win the lottery. Finally, fed up, God responds: "Meet me half-way: buy a ticket." In others words, the reality of writing is that success comes to those who try, try again, try some more, and - more than anything - keep trying. The work of making your book a success doesn't stop when you finish writing it - in fact, that's often just half the battle. The rewards, luckily, are more than worth it - especially when you get your first good reviews or people actually start to know your name.

Confessions of a Literary Streetwalker: Penis, cock, dick, member, rod ....

(the following is part of an ongoing series of columns I did for The Erotica Readers & Writers Association on the ins and outs and ins and outs and ins and outs of writing good smut)

Just to show either my dedication to this column, or my complete lack of sanity, I’m writing this on my laptop while sitting in the passenger seat of my girlfriend’s car as she drives us back from a Thanksgiving visit to my mom’s house. Ain’t technology wonderful?

One of my favorite things when teaching erotic writing is to talk about how it basically isn’t any different than any other form of writing. You still need, after all, a plot, characterization, description, a sense of place, suspension of disbelief, etc. Thinking otherwise will only put training wheels on your writing, which - believe me - readers and editors can easily pick up on. If you sit down and try to write a damned good story, that happens to be about sex or sexuality, the result will generally be much finer artistically than an attempt that’s just tossed off. The instant you approach a story as “just” anything (horror, romance, science fiction, erotica, etc.) you’ll demean yourself and the reader. The bottom line is that there really isn’t much of a difference between a great erotic story and any other genre’s great story.

With that in mind I agree with most everyone’s advice towards writing short stories (or longer works): polish your writer’s voice, give the story a sense of place and time, flesh out the characters, construct an interesting plot, create evocative descriptions (show don’t tell), etc. One way I tell people to approach erotic writing is to remember that erotica doesn’t blink. In just about every other genre, when sex steps on stage the ‘camera’ swings to burning fireplace logs, trains entering tunnels, and the like - in other words, it blinks away from the sexual scene. In erotica you don’t blink, you don’t avoid sexuality - you integrate it into the story. But the story you’re telling isn’t just the sex scene(s), it’s why the sex IS the story. Something with a bad plot, poor characterization, lousy setting, or lazy writing and a good sex scene is always much worse than a damned good story full of interesting characters, a great sense of place, sparkling writing and a lousy sex scene. The sex scene(s) can be fixed, but if the rest - the meat of the story itself - doesn’t work you’re only polishing the saddle on a dead horse.

So there really isn’t much I believe that separates good writing in any other genre from good smut writing. But like all so-called ‘rules’ of writing, there’s an exception. As you might know, a lot of people preach that it’s poor writing to use the same descriptive word too many times in the same section of writing. In other words:

“The sun blasted across the desert, scorching scrub and weed into burnt yellow, turning soft skin to lizard flesh, and metal to rust. Outside LAST CHANCE FOR GAS, the radiation of the explosion had turned once gleaming signs for COCA-COLA and DIESEL into rust-pimpled ghosts of their former selves.

“Parked outside LAST CHANCE, was a rusted pickup collapsed onto four flat tired, windshield a sparkling spider web under the hard white light of the sun’s explosion.”

Okay that wasn’t terrific, but I am sitting in the passenger seat of a old Toyota while barreling up California highway 101, for goodness sake. The point is - aside from the poor metaphor of the sun as an explosion - the word “rust” springs up a bit too much in that off-the-cuff description. It’s not ‘that’ bad a description, but having the same word pop up repeatedly (especially if it’s tied to the same image, such as ‘rusted metal’ the writing will come of as lazy, unimaginative, or simply dull. To keep this from happening, many writing teachers and guides recommend varying the descriptive vocabulary. Now you don’t need to change rust to ‘corrosion’ or ‘decay’ or ‘encrustation’ once you’ve used it once in a story, but if you need to use the same kind of description in the same paragraph or section you might want to slip in some other, perhaps equally evocative, words as well.

Onto that exception for erotica. In smut, we have a certain list of words that are required for a well-written erotic scene: the vocabulary of genitalia and sex. If you follow the ‘don’t ever repeat’ rule in a sex scene the results are often more hysterical than stimulating.

“Bob’s cock was so hard it was tenting his jeans. He desperately wanted to touch it, but didn’t want to rush. Still, as he sat there, the world boiled down to him, what he was watching, and his penis. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. Carefully, slowly, he lowered his zipper and carefully pulled his dick out. Unlike a lot of his friends, Bob was happy with his member. It was long, but not too long, and had a nice, fat head. Unlike the rods his friend’s rarely described, his pole didn’t bend - but was nice and straight.”

- another bit of less-than-brilliance as my girlfriend ducks in and out of traffic. But hopefully, you’ll get the idea: if you follow the ‘non-repeat’ commandment, you’ll quickly run out of words to describe what the hell’s going on in your story. With women’s anatomy it gets even worse - I’ve read a lot of amateur stories that go from cunt to pussy to quim to hole to sex ... somehow getting a down-and-dirty contemporary piece to a story that should be titled Lady Rebecca and the Highwayman.

It’s more than perfectly okay to repeat certain words in a story - especially an erotic one - if other words just won’t work, or will give the wrong impression (if there anything less sexy than using ‘hole’ or ‘shaft’?). My advice is to stick to two or three words that fit the time and style of the story, then rotate them: cock to dick, pussy to cunt, etc. Some words can also be used if you feel the story is getting a bit too thin on descriptions: penis, crotch, groin, etc. - but only if kept to a very dull roar.

One of the best ways to avoid this problem is to describe parts of the character’s anatomy rather than using a simple, general word. For example, lips, clit, glans, balls, shaft (when specific, it’s fine, but not as a general word for cock), mons, etc. Not only does this give you more flexibility, but it can be wonderfully evocative, creating a complex image rather than a fuzzy impression of the party going on in your characters’ pants.

The bottom line is what while there is a core similarity between a good erotic story and any other genre, there are a few important stylistic differences - and, as the old saying goes: viva la difference!

Confessions of a Literary Streetwalker: First Impressions

(the following is part of an ongoing series of columns I did for The Erotica Readers & Writers Association on the ins and outs and ins and outs and ins and outs of writing good smut)

There's been some debate going on about how aspiring writers should conduct themselves. As someone on the receiving end of 'clumsy virgin syndrome' as well having been a novice myself oh-so-many moons ago, I think I'm qualified to wax a bit on this and so, without further ado, here's a quickie guide for those who want to make some good first impressions.

Right off the bat it's important for a newbie writer to understand some basic rules about editors. I've said it again, but it bears repeating: editors have absolutely no legal responsibility to respond quickly, fairly, or compassionately. It sucks, but that's the way it is. They do not have to answer your emails, they do not have to give criticism or praise, they do not have to even let you know if your story's been rejected. This is why when you come across a good, kind, generous, supportive, editor (like myself - ahem) you should treat that person as the gift from above that they are. The only thing - again 'legally' - an editor has to do is contact you if your story's going to be published (and even that's a bit hazy) and pay you if you have money coming.

If you understand these harsh-but-true rules it makes dealing with the world of professional writing that much easier. Unless you have a real good relationship with an editor, simply don't expect anything beyond the least amount of contact. In defense of editors, I do have to say that editing is a very tough gig: YOU try going through hundreds of manuscripts, copyediting, sending out contracts and rejection notices, dealing with distribution and publicity headaches, and then have time for any kind of a social life. I try to do the best job I can but even I have been known to be slow answering emails or answering questions. Editors also have one of the worst jobs on the planet -- being someone who has to break hearts and shatter dreams all the damned time. It is not easy having to send out rejection slips but it's part of the job.

On the writers side, there's a lot that can be done to help the editor out . Why should you help an editor? Because in many cases, you make a friend rather than someone who dreads getting one of your submissions.

The first step is: exercise patience. When you send something out, one of the first things you should do is start working on something else. This tactic makes it easier for you to deal with the sometimes VERY long wait between submission and hearing the good (rare) or bad (often) news about your story.

Step two is: practice compassion. Editors have lives (at least some of the time). Things happen to derail even the most professional and compassionate editor. The fact that you haven't heard back from someone for a few months does not mean they are sitting on the beach drinking Mai Tais without a care about your story. The same goes for questions you might ask an editor. If you were an editor, you, too, might get testy and annoyed having to answer the same question over and over again. That doesn't mean an editor has the right to be rude, but if an answer does come and it's a bit short or abrupt, it's understandable. Don't take it personally.

Make the editor's job as easy as possible, is step three. I cannot emphasize this enough. Read and obey the guidelines. If the book (or magazines or website) says 'NO' that means 'NO.' Exceptions do happen, but never count on them. If they say no email submissions, do not send one. If they say no horror, no S/M, no straight sex, no gay sex, no whatever then that means what it says. Though some rules are fairly flexible (word length by a few hundred words and so forth), always observe the Calls for Submission as Absolute Law.

When you do send stories in, always put your name, address and email on the manuscript - that goes for paper as well as email submissions. A story without any of this is rejected - period. And for heaven's sake, if you submit something by email, sign the damned email -- it's simple courtesy and allows the editor to easily respond to your submission without having to look at your submission to figure out who the heck you are. Please do not ask for anyone to write or send a postcard (even if it's provided) to acknowledge receipt of the manuscript. Most editors won't comply or, like me, they don't even open the envelopes or start to read stories for months after the call for submission is sent out. On the manuscript itself, you don't need a social security number or even a phone number, but you do need information on how to contact you by mail and/or email. Put it on your cover letter, put it on your manuscript, put it on your Self Addressed Stamped Envelope (SASE), tattoo it on your butt - just make sure it's there for the editor to find.

Step four would have to be arguing, or bargaining, with an editor. Unless you get a personal note asking for a rewrite, or suggesting some changes, a rejection note is just that. Sometimes an editor will be flexible if you want to send along something else for consideration but, once again, that's the exception and not the rule. From my own experience as an editor, rejections are the last thing I send out - so even if you have something perfect waiting in the wings, it's useless once the book's already been put together. If it's a paper rejection, simply take your bumps and get on with life. If it's email, it's nice to send a little note, if anything because that way the editor knows the message actually got to you. All you need to say is something like "Thanks for letting me know. Best of luck with the project!" is fine. I do have to say that understanding on the part of a writer can score MAJOR points with an editor. I've personally invited folks I've rejected from one project to submit to another because I appreciated their courtesy and professionalism. As always, you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar - not to compare editors like myself to flies, you understand.

Lastly, try and learn as much as possible about the business so you don't make silly, dumb mistakes like arguing with the editor about rights, payment, scheduling, covers, and so forth. There are lots of places to learn about the biz - including right here on ERA. Nothing sours an editor towards a new writer faster than having to give him or her the basic run-down on what can or cannot be done. Keep in mind there are a lot of writers out there, and all an editor needs is any excuse to consider you or your stuff as 'too much trouble to deal with' before he or she is out looking for someone else -- just as good -- to take for their project.

So there you go, the quick and simple ground rules for the newbie writer. If I had to sum all of this up in a simple sentiment, it would have to be that it's important for beginning writers to understand that submitting should be a smooth and seamless process for both the editor, as well as the writer. The editor gets a trouble-free story to read, and you - because you know the score - don't have to worry about making silly mistakes.

Confessions of a Literary Streetwalker: The Best of the Best of the Best

(the following is part of an ongoing series of columns I did for The Erotica Readers & Writers Association on the ins and outs and ins and outs and ins and outs of writing good smut)

Here's a quote that's very near and dear to my heart:

"From the age of six I had a mania for drawing the shapes of things. When I was fifty I had published a universe of designs, but all I have done before the age of seventy is not worth bothering with. At seventy five I'll have learned something of the pattern of nature, of animals, of plants, of trees, birds, fish and insects. When I am eighty you will see real progress. At ninety I shall have cut my way deeply into the mystery of life itself. At a hundred I shall be a marvelous artist. At a hundred and ten everything I create; a dot, a line, will jump to life as never before. To all of you who are going to live as long as I do, I promise to keep my word. I am writing this in my old age. I used to call myself Hokosai, but today I sign my self 'The Old Man Mad About Drawing.'"

That was from Katsushika Hokusai, a Japanese painter of the Ukiyo-e school (1760-1849). Don't worry about not knowing him, because you do. He created the famous "Great Wave Off Kanagawa," published in his Thirty-six Views of Mount Fuji - a print you've probably seen a thousand times.

Hokusai says it all: the work is what's really important, that he will always continue to grow and progress as an artist, and that who he is will always remain less than what he creates.

Writing is like art. We struggle to put our thoughts and intimate fantasies down just-so, then we send them out into an often harsh and uncaring world, hoping that someone out there will pat us on the head, give us a few coins, and tell us we did a good job.

What with this emotionally chaotic environment a little success can push just about anyone into feeling overly superior. Being kicked and punched by the trials and tribulations of the writing life making just about anyone desperate to feel good about themselves - even if it means losing perspective, looking down on other writers. Arrogance becomes an emotional survival tool, a way of convincing themselves they deserve to be patted on the noggin a few more times than anyone else, paid more coins, and told they are beyond brilliant, extremely special.

It's very easy to spot someone afflicted with this. Since their superiority constantly needs to be buttressed, they measure and wage the accomplishments and merits of other writers putting to decide if they are better (and so should be humbled) or worse (and so should be the source of worship or admiration). In writers, this can come off as someone who thinks they deserve better ... everything than anyone else: pay, attention, consideration, etc. In editors, this appears as rudeness, terseness, or an unwillingness to treat contributors as anything but a resource to be exploited.

Now my house has more than a few windows, and I have more than enough stones, so I say all this with a bowed head: I am not exactly without this sin. But I do think that trying to treat those around you as equals should be the goal of every human on this planet, let alone folks with literary aspirations. Sometimes we might fail, but even trying as best we can -- or at least owning the emotion when it gets to be too much - is better than embracing an illusion of superiority.

What this has to do with erotica writing has a lot to do with marketing. It is an illusion - and a pervasive one - that good work will always win out. This is true to a certain extent, but there are a lot of factors that can step in the way of reading a great story and actually buying it. Part of that is the relationship that exists between writers and publishers or editors. A writer who honestly believes they are God's gift to mankind might be able to convince a few people, but after a point their stories will be more received with a wince than a smile: no matter how good a writer they are their demands are just not worth it.

For editors and publishers, arrogance shows when more and more authors simply don't want to deal with them. After a point they might find themselves with a shallower and shallower pool of talent from which to pick their stories - and as more authors get burned by their attitude and the word spreads they might also find themselves being spoken ill of to more influential folks, like publishers.

Not to take away from the spiritual goodness of being kind to others, acting superior is also simply a bad career move. This is a very tiny community, with a lot of people moving around. Playing God might be fun for a few years but all it takes is stepping on a few too many toes - especially toes that belong on the feet of someone who might suddenly be able to help you in a big way some day - making arrogance a foolish role to play.

I am not a Christian (despite my pseudonym) but they have a great way of saying it, one that should be tacked in front of everyone's forehead: "Do onto others as you would have then do unto you." It might not be as elegant and passionate as my Hokusai quote, but it's still a maxim we should all strive to live by - professionally as well as personally.

Confessions of a Literary Streetwalker: The End of Erotica

(the following is part of an ongoing series of columns I did for The Erotica Readers & Writers Association on the ins and outs and ins and outs and ins and outs of writing good smut)

In an interview on ERA, William Dean asked me "From your experience, what are we, as erotica readers and writers, apt to see as trends in the coming year?" After answering him I got to thinking about the future of erotica and where it could go - or, since it is my column after all, where I want to see it go.

My answer? I want erotica to vanish, to disappear as a literary genre, to utterly and completely GO AWAY.

Biting the hand that's fed me? Sour grapes? Making noise for the sake of noise? None of the above: hear me out.

Erotica exists because a need wasn't being met. Readers looked around at movies, books, television, and every other media and noticed that something was missing. Rob and Laura Petrie had twin beds, Ricky Ricardo and Lucy pulled off a trick not seen since Mary got knocked up by a ghost: a virgin (as far as we know) birth. If a book managed to actually talk about what happened behind closed doors and under the sheets, it was immediately banned, burned, or branded INDECENT.

So, erotica: a peek behind those doors and under those covers. Sex was out in the open and, more importantly, it was profitable. Sex sold, and very well - and with anything that sells well, the people doing the selling began to make more and more and more of it.

That, in itself, isn't a bad thing. After all, if sex didn't sell we wouldn't have MTV, Fox, beer ads, Britney Spears, Ron Jeremy, the entire literary erotica genre, or even the Erotica Readers and Writers Association and my column. But all this and more is popular, and remains popular, because it doesn't exist anywhere else.

Pick up a book, switch on the tube, plop down half your paycheck for a movie ticket and sure there might be hints, suggestions, or allusions but that'll be it. The world remains a place where giving head gets an X, cutting off a head only gets an R.

Meanwhile, out here in the wild woollies of smut writing, we continue to write books and stories that address what no one else seems to be talking about: sex. The problem is that for the longest time, we were part of an opposite but equal problem, which was talking about nothing but sex.

Luckily this has been changing. It used to be that just simply writing s-e-x was enough, but as the public started to get more, they also began asking for more. Editors, publishers and more importantly readers have responded by demanding erotica with depth, meaning, wit, style, and sophistication - and writers have been doing exactly that, pushing the boundaries of what sex writing can be.

The result? Erotica writers have created a genre worthy of respect and serious, non-genre attention. This is a great time to be working in this field, because for the first time writing about sex is not a guarantee of condemnation or exile to a professional Elba. Erotica writers are breaking out and otherwise mainstream publishers are being to pay serious attention not only to the marketability of sex but because of what's developed in the genre, they can sell it without blushing.

This is a good thing for another, more important reason. Crystal ball time: As erotica becomes more and more refined and mature, more elegant and accepted, it may very well begin to be accepted as a valid and respected form of literature. But what I really hope will happen is what's happened with many other genres: assimilation. It used to be that anything to do with time travel, aliens, or space travel was exiled to science fiction. Then came a renaissance in that genre, and a subsequent use of the old elements in new ways - Kurt Vonnegut comes immediately to mind. The same thing has happened with mysteries, horror, romance, comic books (excuse me, 'graphic novels'), television, and so forth.

As the sexually explicit techniques and methods developed in erotica permeate other genres, the need for erotica as its own separate, unique place in bookstores will fade, then vanish. Erotica will become what it always should have been: a part of life, legitimate and respected - not something to be ashamed of, hidden away, or even just separate.

How will that serve us, the erotica-writing world? Wonderfully, I think. Erotica is fun, I definitely believe that, but it's only one genre. As we become better and better writers, trying new things, new techniques, dipping our toes in new pools, other venues will open up, other - better - playgrounds to frolic in.

Sure it might be scary, once erotica merges with the rest of the world and fades away as a genre in its own right. But think of how much better that world will be, a place where sex is something to be talked about, celebrated, and understood without fear or shame.

Our genre may disappear, could utterly and completely go away - but we will have accomplished something remarkable: We changed the world.

Confessions of a Literary Streetwalker: Commitment

(the following is part of an ongoing series of columns I did for The Erotica Readers & Writers Association on the ins and outs and ins and outs and ins and outs of writing good smut)

I don't believe in talent. Sure, I think some people have a touch more hardwiring in their brains that lends them to be artists, musicians, scientists, and even lowly writers but I think that having this turn of mind never guarantees being able to utilize this towards a satisfying pursuit. When someone uses that word, 'talent,' I think of something that makes a person have a kind of special dispensation, a phenomenal leg-up on everyone else. I use an analogy to explain this supposed hypocrisy: just because you're a good driver doesn't mean you'll be a great driver - and not all great drivers started out being good drivers.

Maybe it's because I think of myself as a Liberal and believe that everyone is created equal, or they at least have equal access to making themselves a better person. I don't like the idea of someone, by virtue of luck (good or bad) having an edge over anyone else. I also think the idea of talent is what a lot of people use to give up on something. They put pen to paper and when it doesn't work out perfectly the first time, they toss it to the floor, saying, "What's the point? I just don't have it."

There is one thing, though, that's true of great drivers as well as great writers: commitment. To do anything well you have to practice, you have to get up and do it even though you'd rather do anything else in the world. It's easy to hang your hopes on tales of first story sales, first book sales, and think that such events are common, expected. But the fact is they are alarmingly rare. For every one phenomenal success, there are thousands of other writers who sit in front of their machines every day and work, work, work. Sure, those flashy first timers often deserve their praise and fat checks, but they often vanish as fast they appear. Without determination and a willingness to be there for the long haul, they suffer from expecting the next project, and the next project, and the next project, to be as easy as the first. Someone who's battered and beaten their way up, however, knows that for every five stories, only one will be any good – it's part of the game.

Here's another analogy. If you go out and just circle the track, drive the same car at the same speed, over and over again you may be a better driver but you'll never be Tazio Nuvalari. Writing the same story over and over, never stretching, never trying new things, will have the same affect. Same with writing page after page after page but not taking the time (sometimes very painful times) to sit down with your work and really, honestly read what you've been writing. Determination and commitment is one thing, useless thumb twiddling is quite another.

You have to look really had at what you're doing, to look at it and face the fact that sometimes what you're going to write is going to be crap. Some stories deserve to be thrown in the trash, but what separates the casual dreamer from the person really in pursuit of their destiny, is when you can look at what you've written and say: this is crap, but I know how to make it better.

Personal confession time. Does ten years sound like a long time? Sure, it might be an eternity if you're in a prison cell sometimes, but maybe only the blink of an eye if you're a parent watching a child grow up. For me, ten years is what it took for me to become a published author. I started writing very seriously just out of high school. Ten years later I sold my first story. Though I honestly feel that selling something is not the signpost of quality for writing, this was a defining moment in my life. Ten years of trying finally yielded results.

Nine years after that I have a pretty respectable resume of projects. Sometimes I think I took too long to get where I am, but other times I think maybe it would have taken much longer – or never happened at all – if I'd never sat down and done the work; word after word, page after page, story after story. Those words, pages, or stories pushed me along part of the way, but I believe publishing success came because I tried to be better, tried to improve what I was doing, and was willing to look at what I was doing.

Saccharine sentiment notwithstanding, I really do believe dreams can come true. It can happen, but it too often requires a huge amount of difficult, time-consuming, heart breaking work.

Is it worth it? Ten years is an awfully long time, true. But when I think of the stories I've written, the fun I've had, the things I've learned about myself and the world, I would do it all again in a second.

The choice is yours. But it's better to really, truly try, then pass on regretting you never even made a first step.

Confessions of a Literary Streetwalker: No Muse Is Good News

(the following is part of an ongoing series of columns I did for The Erotica Readers & Writers Association on the ins and outs and ins and outs and ins and outs of writing good smut)


People sometimes ask me about my muse. In other words, where I get the ideas for stories, or how I work.

I hate the idea of a muse and have to bite back the response that I had one once but I clubbed it into submission and now keep it chained up in my basement.

The reason I hate the idea of a muse is that, for me, it takes the responsibility for creation away from the artist and puts it in control of another. "We don't write stories," the muse seems to say, "but we give them as gifts to special people."

Bunk.

Here on earth, we have the writers who feel they have to wait until a story 'speaks' to them, or for a visit from their very own personal muse. Not to put down other writer's habits, but this also strikes me as bunk. Now, I'm the first to say that what writers do is extraordinary; damned near magical. After all, one person creating a work that can live for decades, centuries, and change millions of lives -- if that's not incredible, I don't know what is.

Incredible, yes. Handed down from beyond -- no. Not at all. Shakespeare, Homer, Hemmingway, Steinbeck, Vonnegut, Pynchon, Woolf, Mishima. Make up your own list. These men and women didn't have anything you don't already have. No angelic or alien visitations, no mutant genes, no Formula X, no extraordinary gifts. They had brains and minds and worked very, very hard.

Of course that's simplistic, but that doesn't make it any less valid a point: what did they have that you don't have? What do they have that I don't have?

What does any of this have to do with writing erotica? Well, more than you think. Creativity, ingenuity with language, craft, flair, insight, wit, observation -- these are all things that come with work, with practice, with trying, with experimenting. Not once, but over and over again.

Where is this coming from? Well, every once and a while when I put out a call for submissions for an anthology -- or hear other writers talking about someone's project -- I will hear someone say "Oh, I could never do that," or "That's not my kind of book," and I think about muses.

That kind of attitude, that a writer has to be "inspired" to write to a certain theme, or even a certain type of story, reminds me of that myth, that a story has to 'come' to a writer.

Good example: write me a Transgendered Erotica story. Okay, I agree the subject is a bit daunting but don't let that stop you. Think about it, play with it, do some research. What does gender mean? Who are you? What could you be? What must it be like to have been born one way, but know you should have been the other? What does our society say about sex and gender? Does there have to be only men, only women?

Think, read, play -- and write. No muse is going to ring your doorbell and say "Have I got a story for you!" You have to do it yourself, you have to sit down (or walk around) and think, dream, stretch your creativity, and do it yourself.

That's the trick, you see -- where this circle I've been drawing connects up. To be a better writer you have to work at it. Try new things, new techniques, new styles, new markets. Who knows, you might be the best damned transsexual writer ever, maybe you'll write a really great story, maybe you'll only write a good story, maybe your story will suck -- but no matter the result, you've stretched yourself, tried something new. Inspiration and craft are not gifts from above, they're what happens when you put yourself out there and try new things.

As I like to say, the only time a writer fails is when they either give up writing, or simply don't try.

So try. Don't wait for inspiration. Don't wait for just the right market, don't wait for anything. Write. That's the only magic in a writer's life: the writing.

Confessions of a Literary Streetwalker: An Emotional Survival Kit

(the following is part of an ongoing series of columns I did for The Erotica Readers & Writers Association on the ins and outs and ins and outs and ins and outs of writing good smut)

Please read if you just had something rejected:

This is all part of being a writer. Everyone gets rejected. Repeat after me: EVERYONE GETS REJECTED. This does not mean you are a bad writer, or a bad person. Stories get rejected for all kinds of reasons, from just not the right style to a just plain grouchy, or really dumb editor. Take a few deep breaths, do a little research, and send the story right out again - or put it in a drawer, forget about it, remember it again, take it out, read it, and realize it really is DAMNED good. Then send it out again. Never forget that writing is subjective. My idea of a good story is not yours, yours is not his, his is not mine. Because an editor doesn't like your story doesn't mean that everyone will, or must, dislike it as well. Popularity and money don't equal quality, and struggle and disappointment don't mean bad work. Keep trying. Keep trying. Keep trying.

Think about the rewards, about what you're doing when you write. I love films, but I hate it when people think they are the ultimate artistic expression. Look at a movie, any movie, and you see one name above all the others - the director, usually. But did he write the script, set the stage, design the costumes, act, compose the music, or anything really except point the camera, tell everyone where to stand? A writer is all of that. A director stands on the shoulders of hundreds of people, a writer is alone. Steinbeck, Hemmingway, Austin, Shakespeare, Homer, Joyce, Faulkner, Woolf, Mishima, Chekov - all of them, every writer, created works of wonder and beauty all by themselves. That is marvelous, special: that one person can create a work that can last for decades, centuries, or even millennia. We pick up a book and through the power of the author's words we go somewhere we have never been, become someone new, experience things we never imagined. More than anything else in this world, that is true, real magic.

When you write a story, you have created something that no one - NO ONE - in the entire history of history, has done. Your story is yours and yours alone, it is unique - and you, for doing it, are just as unique. Take a walk. Look at the people you pass on the street. Think about writing, sending out your work: what you are doing is rare, special, and DAMNED brave. You are doing something that very few people in this entire planet are capable of, either artistically or emotionally. You may not have succeeded this time, but if you keep trying, keep writing, keep sending out stories, keep growing as a person as well as a writer then you will succeed. The only way to fail as a writer is to stop writing. But above all else, keep writing. That's what you are, after all: a writer.

#

Please read if you just had something accepted:

Big deal. It's a start. It's just a start. It's one sale, just one. This doesn't make you a better person, a better writer than anyone else out there trying to get his or her work into print. You lucked out. The editor happened to like your style, what you wrote about - hell, maybe even that you set your story in their old hometown. Don't open champagne; don't think about royalty checks and huge mansions. Don't brag to your friends, don't start writing your Pulitzer acceptance speech. Smile, yes; grin, absolutely, but remember this is just one step down a very long road.

Yes, someone has bought your work. You're a professional. But no one will write you, telling you they saw your work and loved it, no one will chase you down the street for your autograph; no one will call you up begging for a book or movie contract. After the book comes out, the magazine is on the stands, the website is up, you will be right back where you started: writing and sending out stories, just another voice trying to be heard.

If you write only to sell, to carve out your name, you are not in control of your writing life. Your ego, your pride, are now in the hands of someone else. Editors and publishers can now destroy you, just as easily as they can falsely inflate you.

It's nice to sell, to see your name in print, but don't write just for that reason. Write for the one person in the whole world who matters: yourself. If you like what you do, enjoy the process, the way the words flow, the story forms, the characters develop, the subtleties emerge, and then no one can rule what you create, can have you jump through emotional hoops. If a story sells, that's nice, but when you write something that you know is great, that you read and tells you that you're becoming a better and better writer, that's the best reward there is.

But above all else, keep writing. That's what you are, after all: a writer.

Confessions of a Literary Streetwalker: Drive

(the following is part of an ongoing series of columns I did for The Erotica Readers & Writers Association on the ins and outs and ins and outs and ins and outs of writing good smut)

A friend of mine recently called me ‘ambitious.’ I’m still not sure what he meant by that -- compliment or criticism? Put-down or praise? It’s made me think, though, and that’s always a good thing. I’d normally describe ambition as a drive to succeed, a persistence to rise in status, income, reputation, so forth. But what does that mean to a writer? It could be money, but when is money the answer to anything? It could be ‘reputation,' but then a lot of bad writers are well though-of, even famous (are you listening Tom Clancy?). Ambition can also mean a cold-heartedness, a reckless disregard towards anything and anyone that’s not directly related to a goal. God, I hope I’m not that.

I do know that writing is important to me, probably the most important thing in my life. Because of that, I look for opportunities to do it, to get it seen. I rarely let opportunities pass me by: markets, genres, experiments, anything to get the spark going, juice up my creativity, to get my work published. Erotica was one of those things, an opportunity that crossed my path, and that has been very good to me. I didn’t think I could edit a book, but then I had a chance to do that as well, and now have done 18 (or so) of the suckers.

The fact is, opportunities never find you, you have to find them. The fantasy of some agent, or publisher, or agent, who picks up a phone and just calls you out of the blue is just that or so rare it might as well be just a fantasy: certainly not dependable as a way of getting published. Writing is something that thrives on challenge, growth, change: some of that can certainly come from within, but sometimes it takes something from the outside: some push to do better and better, or just different work. Sending work out, proposing projects, working at maintaining good relationships with editors, publishers and other writers is a way of being involved, in getting potential work to at least come within earshot. It takes time, it certainly takes energy, but it’s worth it. The work will always be the bottom line, but sometimes it needs help to develop, get out, and be seen.

Remember, though: “Ambition can also mean a cold-heartedness, a reckless disregard towards anything and anyone that’s not directly related to a goal.” Drive is one thing, but when it becomes an obsession with nothing but the ‘politics’ of writing and not the work itself, it takes away rather than adds. Being on both sides of the fence (as an editor as well as a writer) I’ve know how being determined, ambitious, can help as well as hinder in getting the work out. Being invisible, hoping opportunity will find out, won’t get you anything but ignominy, but being pushy, arrogant, caring only for what someone can do for you and not that you’re dealing with a person who has their own lives and issues, can close doors rather than open them.

I like working with people who know about ‘Chris’ and not just the person who can publish their work, just as I like writing for publications that are run by kind, supportive, just-plain-nice folks. Rejections always hurt, but when that person is someone I genuinely like or respect then I’ll always do something better next time. As I’ve said before, writing can be a very tough life: having friends or connections that can help, both professionally as well as psychologically can mean a world of difference. Determination to be published, to make pro connections at the cost of potentials comrades is not a good trade-off. I’d much rather have writing friends than sales, because in the long-run having good relationships is much more advantageous than just the credit. Books, magazines, websites, come and go, but people are here for a very long time.

I also think that sacrificing the love of writing, the struggle to create good work, is more important than anything else. Someone who has all the friends in the world, a black book full of agents and publishers, but who is lazy or more concerned with getting published than doing as good a work as possible is doing those friends and markets (as well as themselves) a serious disservice. Getting out there is important, and determination can help that, but if what gets out there is not worthy of you ... then why get out there in the first place? It might take some time, might take some work, but good work will usually find a home, a place to be seen, but bad work forced or just dumped out there is no good for anyone, especially the writer.

The bottom line, I guess, is that I really do believe in ambition, both for work and to find places to get exposed, but more importantly I believe in remembering the bottom line: the writing: that the drive to be a better and better writer is the best kind of ambition of all.

Confessions of a Literary Streetwalker: Risks

(the following is part of an ongoing series of columns I did for The Erotica Readers & Writers Association on the ins and outs and ins and outs and ins and outs of writing good smut)

"The shock of September 11 is subsiding. Each day adds distance. Distance diminishes fear. Cautiously our lives are returning to normal. But "normal" will never be the same again. We have seen the enemy and the enemy is among us .... the publishers, producers, peddlers and purveyors of pornography."

It didn't take me long to find that quote, just a few minutes of searching. It came from an LDS Web site, Meridian Magazine, but I could have picked fifty others. Maybe it's because of the election, or because of a few horror stories that have recently come my way, but I think it's time to have a chat about what it can mean to ... well, do what we do.

We write pornography. Say it with me: por-nog-ra-phy. Not 'erotica' -- a word too many writers use to distance themselves, or even elevate themselves, from the down and dirty stuff on most adult bookstore shelves -- but smut, filth ... and so forth.

I've mentioned before how it's dangerous to draw a line in the sand, putting fellow writers on the side of 'smut' and others in 'erotica.' The Supreme Court couldn't decide where to scrawl that mark -- what chance do we have?

What good are our petty semantics when too many people would love to see us out of business, thrown in jail, or much, much worse? They don't see a bit of difference between what I write and what you write. We can sit and argue all we like over who's innocent and who's guilty until our last meals arrive, but we'll still hang together.

I think it's time to face some serious facts about what we do. 'Swinging from a rope' hyperbole aside, we face some serious risks for putting pen to paper or file to disk. I know far too many people who have been fired, stalked, threatened, had their writing used against them in divorces and child custody cases, and much worse.

People hate us. Not everyone, certainly, but even in oases like San Francisco people who write about sex can suffer tremendous difficulties. Even the most -- supposedly -- tolerant companies have a hard time with an employee who writes smut. A liberal court will still look down on a defendant who's published stories in Naughty Nurses. The religious fanatic will most certainly throw the first, second, third stone -- or as many as it takes -- at a filth peddler.

This is what we have to accept. Sure, things are better than they have been before and, if we're lucky, they will slowly progress despite the fundamentalism of the current government, but we all have to open our eyes to the ugly truths that can accompany a decision to write pornography.

What can we do? Well, aside from joining the ACLU (www.aclu.org) there isn't a lot to we can directly do to protect ourselves if the law, or Bible-wielding fanatics, break down our doors, but there are a few relatively simple techniques we can employ to be safe. Take these as you will, and keep in mind that I'm not an expert in the law, but most importantly, try to accept that what you are doing is dangerous.

Assess your risks. If you have kids, if you have a sensitive job, if you own a house, if you have touchy parents, if you live in a conservative city or state, you should be extra careful about your identity and what you are writing. Even if you think you have nothing to lose, you do -- your freedom. Many cities and states have very loose pornography laws, and all it would take is a cop, a sheriff, or a district attorney to decide you needed to be behind bars to put you there.

Hide. Yes, I think we should all be proud of what we do, what we create, but use some common sense about how easily you can be identified or found. If you have anything to lose, use a pseudonym, a post office box, never post your picture, and so forth. Women, especially, should be extra careful. I know far too many female writers who have been stalked or Internet-attacked because of what they do.

Keep your yap shut. Don't tell your bank, your boss, your accountant, your plumber, or anyone at all, what you do -- unless you know them very well. When someone asks, I say I'm a writer. If I know them better, I say I write all kinds of things -- including smut. If I know them very, very, very well then maybe I'll show them my newest book. People, it shouldn't have to be said, are very weird. Just because you like someone doesn't mean you should divulge that you just sold a story to Truckstop Transsexuals.

Remember that line we drew between 'pornography' and 'erotica'? Well, here's another. You might be straight, you might be bi, but in the eyes of those who despise pornography you are just as damned and perverted as a filthy sodomite. It makes me furious to meet a homophobic pornographer. Every strike against gay rights is another blow to your civil liberties and is a step closer to you being censored, out of a job, out of your house, or in jail. You can argue this all you want, but I've yet to see a hysterical homophobe who isn't anti-smut. For you to be anti-gay isn't just an idiotic prejudice, it's giving the forces of puritanical righteousness even more ammunition for their war -- on all of us.

I could go on, but I think I've given you enough to chew on. I believe that writing about sex is something that no one should be ashamed of, but I also think that we all need to recognize and accept that there are many out there who do not share those feelings. Write what you want, say what you believe, but do it with your eyes open. Understand the risks, accept the risks and be smart about what you do -- so you can keep working and growing as a writer for many years to come.