The Business of Writing Full-Time

by Olivia Knight

‘Are you listening?’
‘Yes,’ said Tiffany.
‘Good. Now… if you trust in yourself…’
‘Yes?’
‘…and believe in your dreams…’
‘Yes?’
‘…and follow your star…’ Miss Tick went on.
‘Yes?’
‘… you’ll still get beaten by people who spent their time working hard and learning things and weren’t so lazy. Goodbye.’
– The Wee Free Men, Terry Pratchett

Straight off: hold the tissues. I sodding love my life. This is not a sob story about how writing full-time is actually hard, painful, agonising, difficult, and full of unseen obstacles. Some evenings, curled on the sofa, I suddenly stare at the walls struck with realisation: tomorrow I’m going to make things up all day, and this is my job, this is my life, and it rocks. Anyone who describes writing as torture should take up temping. What would you rather – create worlds or be shown how to operate a kettle safely? That said, I’m about to not-write for six weeks and a deep sense of relief fills me at the thought. (Partly because I won’t, in fact, be temping.) This isn’t What I Wish I’d Known Before I Started, it’s Handy Things To Know. And all the advice beneath boils down to two things: money = time = writing, and be schizophrenic.

Money = time = writing

If you want to live your artistic dream, you can’t be artistically dreamy about money – but keep the equation in the right order.

Getting there: making a butterfly net

This isn’t about how to reach the point of writing full-time, it’s about being there, but here’s one useful tip… What does it cost you to stay alive, each month? Open Excel, work it out: the non-negotiable expenses (rent/mortage, bills, etc), the variables (food, wine, clothes, toiletries), the optionals (entertainment, holidays). How much money do you need to feel secure quitting the day job – three months’? Six months’? More? If you had a windfall of £5000 tomorrow, would that be enough? Believing in your dreams doesn’t make them happen; being able to recognise them as they flit past does. Keep that figure; refine it. When you’re writing full-time, you’ll need it, full-time.

Working hours

Regrettably, I don’t lie in bed until eleven playing with myself then swan around in pretty negligées, dashing off immaculate sentences as they occur. Perhaps I should. I worked out early on I can do four to five hours’ writing a day maximum, and it’s the same quality whether I space it out between nine o’clock and five o’clock or sleep in until one then write solidly from two till six, except for feeling like a Bad Person. My Protestant upbringing has much to answer for; enjoying a good spank is the tip of the ice-berg. I have, Martin Luther aside, accepted I can’t write before 10:30, even if I get up at 6 a.m. and swim the freezing Isis. So learn how much you can write a day and find the hours that work for you. Evenings are actually my best time and I’m indifferent to the existence of Saturdays and Sundays… but I’m also damn fond of people and that’s when they want to play, so I’ve accepted working weekdays.

Protect your time. For everyone else, “at home” means “free time” and now you’re at home all the time! They’ll tap on your windows, ask you to babysit, arrange tea dates, have flying weektime visits to your city, until you tell them not to. I don’t consider writing “work”, but for the sake of others I’ve learned to call it “working”. Sample exchange:
“Olivia, what are you doing on Thursday afternoon?”
Blink in surprise. “Working.”
Easy to say, until it’s you saying it to a close friend.

Protect your rest. You throw yourself into your work, get lost in it, get absorbed in it, write up a storm, all good; you secretly know you damn well need to finish this to get your next payment, not so good; you reckon you’re saving time by writing twice your usual amount a day – maybe not. Overstrain yourself and you take the saved time and half as much again in exhaustion. This is full-time: you need to be able to do it again tomorrow, next week, next month. Your energy levels are a debit card with an extortionate rate of interest; be wary of overspending them. Instead, stop while you know what happens next – dash off a few notes about the rest of the scene and go do the washing up. I use the Radio 4 comedy at 6:30 as a final cut-off time, to force myself to stop.

Discipline

How do you know if you’re doing enough? Two ways: you know what you need to earn; you know how much you can write a day. But a novel’s a great big shapeless thing to jump into, so with one hand you’re frantically flagellating yourself about laziness while the other waves despairingly at your inability to take the time you need to create, like a saddened fairy godmother. Break it into bits. The ultimate goal of completing a novel sustains you for – ooh, two or three chapters, then your inner toddler stamps its feet and demands sweeties now! You need interim goals: that chapter, this part, by such-and-such a time, which means about there this week… And you know you can write 2000 words a day, so in four weeks you’ll have written 4 x 5 x 2000 words, right? Uh-uh. You need planning time, some days are rubbish, sometimes you write wonderful stuff which has, unfortunately, stepped into the wrong novel. Set realistic goals with generous margins.

Keeping track of my progress, by week and by month, and the sheer love of writing, is enough discipline for me… with a few extra sweeties. Champagne for finishing a novella. Red champagne and a week off for finishing a novel. All planning-time in coffee shops, because it’s pissing down with rain and you’re not in an office, you’re having that croissant and cappucino you always used to yearn for as you trudged to work. Felt-tips and gold gel pens. Stars. Give yourself carrots.

Recognise the non-working work time and protect that too. Does your mind teem with ideas in the shower, out walking, chopping vegetables for a two-hour stew, watching the tiles steam as you marinade in the bath, stamping your feet and spinning in a night club? Will you still allow the time for those long walks and leisurely baths, those nights out? Discipline your discipline: it doesn’t have to look like work to be valuable.

Financial pressure

A week off for finishing a novel? And that’s generous. Before you think about writing full-time – it’s a fine thing to make your living writing, but what if you have to write, to pay your bills? The novel’s crumbling in your hands, sagging everywhere, you need to spend a week pulling it apart, a week thinking, and another three weeks recreating it, and if you don’t finish it in the next two weeks you can’t pay next month’s rent. Still sure? What’s more important – the writing or being an official writer? Write full-time if you have to. Both Janine Ashbless and I tend to throw ourselves out top-floor windows if you put us in offices; we have no choice. Some don’t; some do. But think carefully before you make your dragon a beast of burden.

As Adam Nevill said in his interview, “there are just so many opportunities for female authors right now in erotica and romance, which has led to a decrease in the quality of submissions from new authors – too many are writing too much.” He’s right – and the better you get, the longer you take. Not only does good writing take time; you need creative rest. You can’t finish one novel on Friday and start the next on Monday; you can’t even do that with a novella. And it’s unlikely, as a new writer, that you can afford a fortnight’s holiday between every story. So don’t be afraid to do other work. “Being a writer” is bullshit; the writing’s the thing. I swore, a year ago, I would never again churn out wordcount because I needed the next payment; now I don’t. Maybe your staying-alive cost can be met working part-time. Look at your other skills. Find something you can do in your “down time” between books that’ll pay and give you a creative break. Some people can write a novel a month; I don’t want to be them.

Lead time

You’ve finished your novel, it’s accepted – show me the money! Seven paragraphs as a full-time writer and you’re already as mercenary as me. You get half your advance when the contract’s signed and the other half when the novel’s published – about a year later. Even magazines will often pay six months after accepting a piece. Yay! Acceptance slip! You’ll be in print! In 2012!... Oh. It always takes longer than you think.

Never mind, c’est la vie. You’ve been accepted, that’s the main thing, so crack the champagne anyway. The ball’s rolling, time does pass, you don’t cease to exist – or write – in the meantime. Like juggling, keep throwing more balls into the air until you have a flow.

Be schizophrenic

Writing full-time, you’re self-employed. You have to be business-like. But God help you if your writing turns business-like. Harness schizophrenia, instead.

Submissions

Creating a story and assuming people want to read what you write is mad, arrogant, wilful optimism. If a writer receives a rejection, she will weep; its words cut into the very ability to write. Try starting a sentence when someone’s said your last three hundred were crap. Don’t let the writer see that! Besides, writers have minds on higher things than posting letters (or writing them), reading checklists, managing deadines… and so they bloody well should. Create The Administrator. When a story is finished, the writer dusts her hands and drinks champagne (yes, it’s a theme); The Administrator takes over. And here’s what she does…

• “Ready – Aim – Fire!” Not “Fire! … spend years wondering why it didn’t work” or “Ready… still ready… still ready…” or “Ready – Fire – Aim!”, which I tried too.
• “Ready” means you’re happy for the story to go to print as is. Not sure? Edit every story on paper. Still not sure? So send it. Don’t sit on ten years’ worth of writing. If you want it discovered, don’t let it be from under your corpse.
• “Aim” means find out who you’re sending to. You’ll get enough rejection slips as it is; don’t add to the pile by submitting apples to a pear shop, however green and wonky they are. (Don’t pile rejection slips at all. Set fire to rejection slips.) All magazines say to read them first – so you don’t, because there are twenty magazines at £3.70 each and you can’t be bothered, and then they say no and you’re devastated, and then you find the magazine and realise why, or they say yes and you buy a copy and hope no-one ever finds out you’re printed in it.
The Writers and Artists Yearbook and The Writer’s Handbook list UK and US publishers, agents, and magazines: buy it; use it. Read the guidelines: trawl through websites, read examples, work through their checklists. Check exactly what they want and precisely how they want it submitted. It takes hours. Aim carefully if you want to hit your target.
• “Fire!” Putting stuff in envelopes isn’t hard. Placing your dreams in the hands of strangers who might trample them is appalling, so don’t. Just put stuff in envelopes. Give yourself a goal of submissions: 3 a month, 4 a month…

Be professional

You’re self-employed and you’re working with businesses: you have to behave accordingly. For your publisher – submit well before deadlines when they still have energy to read, meet proofing deadlines, and send short emails. If they need 10 000 words taken out, fine. (Actually, if you work carefully at it, the novel will be better for it.) Writers may be wild, wanton, erratic, tortured souls – but this is The Adminstrator’s domain. They’ll judge your writing by your writing, so you’re free to be as professional as you like. Put The Managing Director in charge of finance. Find out the self-employment things and do them: file expenses, record earnings, set aside your tax, save yourself money by paying it promptly. As soon as you're published, even in a magazine, register with the Author Licencing and Copyright Society or your country's equivalent - they collect money from copyright licences and may have some with your name on it.

The other writing

Create The Editor. Around your beautiful perfect novel is a package of other writing, equally demanding.
• A blurb for the back cover: 100-200 words.
• A nutshell for cover letters: 1 sentence, usually in this formula: “Title is a [word count] [genre] novel set in [time and place] about [character] who…” For example, “The Ten Visions is an 80 000 word erotic novel set in contemporary Oxford about a postgraduate student who discovers her occult powers.”
• A synopsis: 1-2 pages (the publisher will specify an exact length – trim down to that) saying exactly what happens, in present tense, all the way to end. (Yeah, giving away the ending sucks piles.) Write it with articulate precision, but not poetry.
• A one paragraph summary for cover letters: halfway between the blurb and the cover letter, it’s more enticing, but unafraid to give away secrets.
• Cover letters: as business-like and briefly as possible, give your nutshell, your one-paragraph summary, a brief bio if they ask, and what you’re enclosing.
While you’re writing, all these are so enviably clear in your head… so make some notes. Afterwards, collapsed on the shores of post-novel exhaustion, you’ll want them. And then, best of all, you get to choose pull-quotes for the back cover and strap-lines, because you’re into marketing-land…

Self-promotion

A new character in your internal cast: The Marketer. Have fun; step outside yourself; project the dream. Few writers get the all-singing all-dancing publicity routine and of those who do, it doesn’t necessarily earn out – better by far is word-of-mouth, which this century is dream-easy. Build a website, consider a blog. Walk into every bookstore and front-out your book (place it cover out, with a few behind it), and tell your friends to do that too. Arrange readings with local bookshops and festivals, if you can bear the spotlight – if you bask in it, like me, so much the better! You probably don’t need business cards… so what? They’re free! Major bonus: The Adminstrator gets a tick and the writer wiggles with glee.

Forget the money

Now you have a whole cast of multiple personality disorder: The Administrator, The Managing Director, The Editor, The Marketer. They all exist as lackeys to one person and to protect one person: The Writer. If the writer’s working to finance them, something’s rotten in the state of Denmark. They will administrate, manage, edit, and market the writing; but – and this is a personal belief – make sure you always have at least one project that is nothing about money at all, to hold onto your soul, so you have a yardstick against which to measure the soulfulness of all your writing.

Here endeth the lesson.

"Mr Black Lace" - an interview with Adam Nevill

by Janine Ashbless

This year marks 15 years of Black Lace books, so we decided to get together as a posse and corner the Editor of the imprint, Adam Nevill, for an interview.

We should have taken nets. Adam is possibly one of the hardest-working people in publishing (I’ve had e-mails sent from his desk at 7.30 in the morning and 8.00 at night). It’s hard to believe that he manages to write his own books as well – BDSM erotica for Nexus under the name of Lindsay Gordon, and dark supernatural fiction under his own name – his novel Banquet for the Damned is out now in paperback, and a proper creepy Jamesian read it is.

But he gave us the interview. And oh what an interview…

---

Hello Adam – Welcome to Lust Bites!
How did you come to be Black Lace editor?

I’d been writing for Nexus for ten years (nine erotic novels as Lindsay Gordon – by the way, the one women like best is called Angel, followed by The Bond) (Dammit – I just picked the covers I liked best – J) and the senior editor, responsible for erotica, Kerri Sharp, asked me to step up to the plate when my predecessor, Paul, moved on. I was asked to interview, take tests etc, and was then offered the job to look after Nexus. Kerri left six months later and her whole erotica empire was bequeathed to me, including Black Lace, the Wicked Words spin-off, and Cheek. A mixed blessing because I ran the entire operation alone for three months (and nearly combusted) before Donna began as assistant.

You edit Nexus and Cheek as well as Black Lace. From your point of view, are these different experiences?

Some aspects are identical. On the operational side of publishing, it’s the same – each title in each imprint has the same critical path, same amount of work dedicated to it etc, from covers, producing marketing materials like catalogues, the sales materials for the reps, cover meetings, proof stages, reading commissioning and contracting.

Editorially, each imprint has a different set of guidelines and its own creative identity and direction, but the same rules apply in terms of the quality of writing submitted. I think it’s fair to say we’re more rigorous than many publishers of erotic material, in terms of the quality control applied to what we publish. A certain standard has to be achieved for each imprint. Content-wise there are differences too - Nexus is written by male and female authors, but its focus is on fetish erotica, BDSM etc and has a predominantly male readership. It tends to require a more specialist writer in terms of their interests in adult material and fantasy. Black Lace is written by women and is a explicit fictional exploration of female fantasy, the readership is mixed but women are its focus so a female readership is catered to in terms of story and content. Cheek is aimed at a younger US female romance reader with less explicit, and mostly hetero vanilla, erotica interests.

The experience is different because each series poses different challenges in terms of completing a schedule. Nexus receives far more submissions than the other two and we could fill the schedule many times beyond what we actually publish. Even when I was publishing 36 original Nexus titles a year, it wasn’t difficult to find fiction to fill such an enormous publishing enterprise. Black Lace has only ever had 12 original titles on its schedule per year since I have been in charge, and it’s far more difficult to commission. It is actually hard to find 12 titles per year to publish under Black Lace. Cheek is also a challenge to complete, even though we only do six titles per year. Cheek has relied almost exclusively on a stable of regular, trusted authors from the US – Alison Tyler, Michelle Pillow, Anne Tourney etc. Most of them I inherited with the series or encouraged to write more/again, but I did introduce Kate Pearce as a new author to the series, and Jamaica Layne. And Kate is a very popular author.

I think there are just so many opportunities for female authors right now in erotica and romance, which has led to a decrease in the quality of submissions from new authors – too many are writing too much.

Do you ever wake up in the morning thinking "Argh! Not more porn!"?

Never. Not more bad writing, sure. Not more delusion and missives from the criminally insane, sure (you’d be amazed at what erotica publishing attracts in the post, or maybe you wouldn’t be). But human sexuality and fantasy is never dull. It’s a privilege to have so many fantasies and fetishes and ideas shared with me.

What was the first naughty book you ever read?

Delta of Venus by Anais Nin. I was eleven and knew nothing about sex at that age. In fact, I remember arguing with friends loudly in the street, that babies were born through the tummy button, and were willed into existence by a mother wanting a child. All of my friends were laughing at me. I was clueless and getting angrier with them all. It left me baffled, but my curiosity led me to the only book in our house that had a vaguely saucy cover. The house was full of books and on the shelf that contained Henry Miller, James Joyce etc, I found a hardback book with a cover featuring the photograph of a woman adjusting her stocking. I began reading it whenever my parents left the house. And I must have read it four times before actually had a sex education lesson at school, so I received the birds and bees from a French woman, who wrote bespoke erotic fantasies for male patrons in Paris. Not a bad way to learn about sex, but it set up enormous expectations. Sex had a lot to live up to. It also had the most incredible impact on my imagination – I thought of sex in Anais Nin terms from then on, and started writing erotica later because of her work.

Being an erotica editor sounds like a dream job. But tell us about the hard work involved - What does a day at HQ look like?

I’ve never had such an interesting job, nor such a demanding one. There are only ever two of us, working on between 50 – 80 titles per year, depending on what’s in the schedule. And publishing requires precision and every aspect of creating a book, is time-consuming. We’re also probably liaising with over 80 authors because of the huge backlist, let alone the current year’s work we’re publishing plus the following year’s schedule we’re trying to commission at the same time. So we’re reading for the following year’s schedule, working on proofs for books five months away from publication, writing marketing and sales materials for books ten months prior to publication, choosing covers for books somewhere else along their critical path, organising contracts for another part of the schedule, trying to keep up with author correspondence, sending out review copies every month … Stop, my chest is going tight and it’s the weekend as I’m writing this. So it is no exaggeration to state that the workload is colossal. Just colossal. It’s a vocation for me, not a career. I’m not a career-publisher/editor – I’m just in it for the books and writers. And from that, the rewards can be tremendous. To find a new author, to know a book you are publishing is bad-ass, to complete a good collection of short stories, to see all the new titles arrive in their shiny new covers each month, to read the good reviews, to work with interesting creative people … It all balances out.

How do you think that Black Lace has changed over the last 15 years, and where do you see it going in the next 15?

Good question. I look back on its golden period from 1993 – 2000, and am in awe at how huge BL really was. It was a cultural phenomena. Publishing genius. And run by some very talented people, notably the chief, Kerri Sharp. The variety, the extent, the poignancy and power of female sexual fantasy contained therein shocked and surprised a great many people. It had an impact similar to Nancy Friday’s Secret Garden. It was a liberation for female sexual fantasy. It had a certain tone and manner back then too – you could really feel the influence of classic twentieth century erotic literature like ‘O’, the subversive historical romps, of rebellious elements in taboo twentieth century fiction that pressed against the bounds and limits of what was deemed acceptable for women to read and write about. It was so far removed from the tepid bonk-buster – it produced some riotous and libidinous erotica. It was groundbreaking.

The world changed very quickly, and continues to change. The book trade changed, the internet came along, television became more racy, a zillion satellite channels appeared, hardcore was plentiful, electronic and digital media just exploded – and the whole publishing environment for erotic fiction changed. Our monopoly on what was unacceptable and illegal in other media was over. But BL kept pace with the times, had a make-over, bought a new wardrobe and had extensive cosmetic surgery. It entered the Sex and the City age and started to feel younger, and more contemporary. Historicals were published rarely, and there was pressure in-house to turn it into chick-lit. Which is how Cheek came into being. But after such an explosive and powerful start in life, Black Lace is a lovely sleek proud feline that would struggle to change its spots. Nor should it. And the trade will always throw it on to the top shelf in the UK, so why disappoint expectations? So despite the various pressures, there may have been a lessening of BDSM interests, or themes that had become tired, but it still remained edgy. I always thought of 2000 onwards as the riot girl age – Tabitha Flyte, Mathilde Madden, Anna Clare, Alaine Hood, Emma Holly etc There were fewer highwaymen, brooding masterly types in chateaus, and corsets, but lots of new voices.

Since I’ve been there (2005) my biggest and primary task was to find enough authors writing books good enough and suitable for Black Lace. A lot of authors were alienated by the change in direction a few years before. We had major drop-off in submissions, and many authors were now writing for other genres too, having cut their teeth with BL. And I also wanted to keep the series not just up-to-date, but to also anticipate new trends in female fiction. I’ve really had a shot at the cross-genre paranormal erotica, as it’s own mini-series within Black Lace, and pushed for more elements of what the US call erotic romance too, because the US is our biggest audience and women out there are enjoying a similar thrill with erotica that women experienced back in the UK in the early nineties. And erotic romance has mainly been intense vanilla, light bondage, and straight erotica with a HEA ending. The huge romance community and arbitration bodies in the US recently accepted female-authored erotica into the canon of romance and, therefore, what is sold in the romance sections of bookshops (and romance accounts for 40% of all paperback sales in North America). So it’s a massive deal for us to be hauled out of the zoology, psychology, self-help, sex and relationship sections, at the back of US bookstores, and to be shelved within the all-important romance section. And it has been really important for a while to keep BL looking a certain way, in order to break into and then maintain our presence in that side of the US business. We’ve also innovated with the covers in the last four years, to create a style palatable to both the US and UK. And if you look at the new anniversary editions, you’ll see where we’re going for the foreseeable in terms of imagery and art direction. We’re making a statement – we’re a classic brand, and we built the first wheel on this wagon that many have copied, and many have come and gone, but BL remains as the original erotic series fiction written by women.

The erotic romance direction has called in some flak over the last two years, and I completely understand the ire I may have caused, but becoming more attractive to the US market has really helped to continue our fortunes, and our foreign rights sales are better in contemporary straight erotica territory. Of course, the US market is also changing and the content is getting harder out there, and closer to what we were doing back in the nineties, and I’m also acutely aware that some of the edgier BL titles are also selling better everywhere now. So, I welcome older school elements, and darker explorations of female fantasy going forward.

In the near future, we’ll do exceptional historical and paranormal erotica – like Janine Ashbless’s brilliant new collection, Dark Enchantment (:-D And I didn’t even prompt him – J) – but will mainly concentrate on contemporary settings, with stories featuring a wide range of female sexual fantasy. And they can be just as explicit and daring and action-packed as they were in 1993. I want to do more old-school titles, in the same vein of Fredrica Alleyn’s Cassandra’s Conflict and Susie Raymond’s Forbidden Fruit. It can be confusing for authors to get so much information about alterations in direction, but markets change, and so do tastes, and editors get hit with that first. But the constants remain, whether your style tends toward the literary (see the marvellous Kristina Lloyd and Leonie Martell and Olivia Knight), or a far more commercial and mainstream style – then the writing has to be strong and the erotic content surprising and arousing.

So aim to write good, edgy, action-packed contemporary stories.

Do you think the boom in the American erotic romance market will result in increased publicity and sales for BL/Cheek in the US?

I think this has already been happening since 2006 – I’ve been out to RWA a few times to represent our books; we have a great new US distributor; and we enjoy a lot of new exposure in the US romance community now. We get so many great reviews on romance websites, and I’ve tried to encourage a US approach in the way we all market and publicise ourselves as authors. In fact, Lust Bites came into life after we did a live BL & Cheek online day with Romance B(u)y the Book.

As a result of these efforts we’ve grown Black Lace in the US. But it hasn’t happened by accident and just as a result of trends – not wanting to blow our trumpet here, but a lot of us have worked very hard to improve our profile in the US and increase sell-in.

(With both halves of Sophie Mouette)

Have you seen any changes in the more popular scenarios and fetishes in recent years? What would you say is popular now?

That’s a huge question. Worthy of PhD study. Even a book. Because the internet has shown just how diverse human sexuality is, and how increasingly partialist it is becoming. Before, this was only reflected in magazines like Skin Two, Forum and Desire, and underground presses that had large readerships, and in Nancy Friday’s groundbreaking books. But the neural networks, largely around visual media, that have erupted and evolved online have changed the sexual landscape beyond measure and even comprehension at times. How can the book keep pace? How can erotic fiction be kept both entertaining and within guidelines and be a working model of modern sexuality? A challenge – that we have met with some groundbreaking ideas. Nexus Enthusiast and Confessions have embraced these bespoke erotica trends by being more specialist. BL has branched into new cross-genre areas too. In BL I’d say female submission within the sexual act is still the mainline, regardless of the feisty preliminaries or characters, but the ménage and the greedy girl is even more popular than ever. Empowerment through surrender, really. Becoming the centre of unrestrained male desire – becoming the spark that starts the fire. Gay porn has had an impact too on women’s erotica (homo-erotica seems more popular than ever in fan-fiction). Fem dom is massive with male readers but seems to have passed female readers by. I’d say The Private Undoing of a Public Servant by Leonie Martell is one of the best erotic novels published in recent times – it’s a very vivid, intelligent and arousing story, as much as an investigation, into male submission and female dominance. But the reaction to it has underwhelmed me. I think it will endure and become a classic, but in its own time, it has had a normal reception. So group sex, and even extreme submission to the opposite sex, seem to be high on the agendas of male and female fantasy.

Are there discrepancies between what the readers are seeking and the types of material you are being sent by writers?

Our hands are often tied by what we receive – it’s not easy to write fiction well, and erotic fiction is just about the hardest field to get right. So as an editor, you will always publish the best writers, and the best submissions you receive in any period of time, and writers are at their best writing about what rings their bell, so it might not always tick every box for the widest number of readers. But this is where the anthology is king, and our short story collections are very popular. It’s the best medium for erotica – you can dip in and out and find that scene that electrifies you. With a novel, it’s good if it can cover a broad pattern of sexual fantasy within its story. Use your imagination and grow – writers and readers alike can be very self-important in terms of their own tastes. We have one writer that the critics constantly berate, or refuse to review, but he sells so well in Nexus because he does female shame so well – "I really shouldn’t be doing this, but my damn body is betraying me" – so those simple, basic fundamentals still constantly underpin erotic fiction. Don’t underrate them. Use them in different circumstances and situations, and with characters with whom their very status, and what is at stake for them if caught, ratchets up the tension and anticipation. Incongruity is vital for humour and sex in fiction.

We constantly ask readers what they want with Nexus, and with BL we’ve conducted surveys through our sexual fantasy books, upon which the guidelines are composed. They flood in from the websites every day. And fantasies tend to be very specific. So much so that it would be impossible to publish individual books about, say, medical procedures, pubic hair, special breeding farms, enforced cross-dressing by matronly aunts, corporal punishment in military academies, etc. And these are a small example of what we are asked for every week. All of the information we draw from our readers, from sexual media, and from those books that seem to get word-of-mouth and fly off the shelves, we process into a direction we hope is as representative as humanly possible. Nexus Enthusiast was a bold experiment to produce definitive books about one sole adult interest – so we did rubber, wife-swapping, CP, cross-dressing novels. We had readers writing in to say they were like their own autobiographies, or they would write in to say we’d missed things out: e.g. "the one about legs" featured a scene where a woman had sex bare-legged, which was unacceptable, and the one about bottoms didn’t describe the underside of a buttock enough, etc. So within each fetish, there are also subcultures, that are only interested in their one aspect of that kink. It could drive you mad. It was this experience that led me to encourage an author to invent a Victorian encyclopaedia of sexual perversion – Curious Pleasures: A Gentleman’s Collection of Beastliness. And it is wonderful. With BL, readers will say the titles are not hard enough, or that they go too far; others will say they don’t like two guys together, or two women together, another has written in to stress the importance of how sexy well-endowed stags are (It wasn’t me!- J) … See where I am going with this? Readers tend to be very specific about what they want at the expense of every one else. So it always tends to come down to the best writing about sex.

I’d also stress that a story and character that can become a vehicle for varied and plentiful sexual behaviour must always be a writer’s starting point. Then bring in a good broad set of experiences and fantasy. The rest is in the hands of the readers … But here is a clue: more is better than less, when it comes to sex. Writers often make the mistake of developing elaborate storylines, and huge casts of characters, into which the erotic elements feel contrived and shoe-horned in.

My local Borders has purged all the Black Lace books out of Romance and back into Erotica – apparently on head office orders. Is Black Lace ‘Erotica’ or ‘Erotic Romance’?

We moved it to romance in the UK temporarily, hoping to replicate the US model. It was a disaster. Romance readers are different here and erotica fans could not find our books in erotica, so it backfired. Black Lace is back in the erotica section to stay. Black Lace is erotica and erotic romance. Erotic Romance is as much a marketing and sales category to save Black Lace from oblivion in the wrong section of US bookshops, as it is a creative direction for some stories that follow conventional romance structure. One of the conventions in erotic romance is the HEA (happy ever after ending) and although a good Black Lace novel wouldn’t be rejected without one, it is a convenient and often appropriate way to end an erotic novel. It can really give the story a focus. When the girl and her object of desire (or objects) – irrespective of how many other lovers are encountered along the way – get together at last, it generally goes down well and achieves closure on an upbeat note. Nearly all popular female fiction is aspirational in a romantic sense, and we’d be foolish to deny that. I don’t know why this is seen as being a sell-out for erotica – it should not affect the action up until that point, nor the degree of explicitness. We can’t have ‘O’ dying under a table on a leash forever. Downbeat endings are not encouraged, unless you’re really clever. Too often, with proposals from new writers, the stories and characters are working out all kinds of self-loathing, self-harming fantasies, which is inappropriate for series fiction... and ER does not mean you can’t have hard sex on every other page.

Black Lace as an imprint empowered women to write and read about their own fantasies. It is still strictly female writers only. But here you are, a man in charge, telling us what we ought to be writing about. Any thoughts on that?

Here we go, he thinks with a smile. Yes, it’s girls only in terms of authorship in novels. I’m not sure I am telling you all what to write about either – I still use the guidelines on content that were handed to me by Kerri and I have accepted a wide range of stories and styles. I’d even say I’ve broadened the scope of BL. Though, as I’ve explained above, I have sometimes altered direction to meet market trends because this is a business. I’m not completely ignorant of female sexual fantasy either – in fact, I’ve probably read more examples of it in the last six years than most women do in a lifetime. I read it all day, every day. And I know the difference between ‘niche’ or ‘damaged’ and what’s arousing/interesting to a general reader. I also have to produce a balanced schedule (so can’t do seven titles in a row with exactly the same theme etc), and have to meet the expectations of the US, the UK, the international market, two sales forces, two sets of book trades. And every one has an opinion. If you read transcripts of some of our cover meetings in the past, you’d wonder why I never weighted myself down with bricks and slipped beneath the grey murk of the Thames.

On content, I sense a frustration on behalf of some writers. But there have been times in the past when ‘upstairs’ will step in and say, "two guys together and we could lose our place in romance in the mid-west", or "get rid of that bondage stuff, make it like …", etc so there have been episodes when we have discouraged certain themes that were at odds with where we wanted to get the books sold. But that’s mostly over now. (YAY!!!- J) I try and be inclusive without stifling creativity, and hope to stay true to BL’s legacy.

But guidelines are necessary – erotic fiction about rape under the influence of alcohol and drugs is not permissible. But I get so much of this. If a series of books that is dedicated to being about pleasure goes this route to satisfy a few writer’s personal visions, or need to shock, it’s curtains for us all. There is a difference between what is acceptable for literary writers to explore with taboos, and what erotica series fiction authors can explore with taboos. I’m not a censor, but occasionally I do have to step in. Make the books hard, daring, and action-packed, but make sure they are about pleasure too. The most common discrepancy is actually not an erotic scene or tone that contravenes guidelines, but a lack of sex in the finished delivered book. Or sometimes it’s the very same sexual fantasy over and over again in every scene (usually the mark of a straight romance writer masquerading on the dark side). Or too much wearisome chatter that goes on page after page (the blight of modern women’s popular fiction). If a writer does not have a natural affinity for pervery, kink and the erotic, the books are never as good. And often the most creative and sensitive and talented erotica authors also have the most idiosyncratic tastes. So my job isn’t easy. But some of the books I’ve published really are radical for this genre – Private Undoing and Split come to mind, let alone Enchanted.

What do you think Black Lace’s reputation/position is among readers, in the competitive international market?

We’re big in continental Europe and Scandinavia, and also throughout the Anglo-sphere. We are the market leaders. In the US, there are bigger fish that have come out of enormous romance enterprises, but we still hold our own as a British export.

In an ideal world, and if you had total control of the imprint, what would you change?

Cheeky. (Me - ask cheeky interview questions? Surely not! – J) I’d probably insist on a novel being finished before I commissioned it. I hate getting burned on the delivery of a manuscript after commissioning it from a proposal and three chapters. I’m a hands-on editor when I have time to be, and I’m a stickler with quality. Much can go wrong when an author gets a contract after writing only three chapters.

I like erotica covers to look serious and noirish and European, but am as close to that vision as I can be now with the new look.

And I’d command a huge marketing and publicity budget and your books would be advertised all over the tube.

What's the worst / funniest / most absurd proposal you've ever received? (You’re not going to answer that one, are you...)

The list is long as regards content and the madness of the writer (but I do keep a file). I tend to find the attitudes of aspiring writers more absurd – particularly those who can’t write, but tell me when I will publish their book, and what a great film it will make. They’ve never read BL and assume their work is just better than anything we have ever published.

Which part of your job do you like most and which part dislike most?

I like the writers, putting together a new series look, discovering talent, seeing a book do well, and reading something that suddenly gives me a shiver.

I dislike not having enough time. I am a perfectionist.

What's on your desk?

A blizzard of paper and piles of manuscripts around a dusty PC that gets called such names. I’ve never even had time to take down the postcards or notes left by my predecessors, or to replace the stationary. I just added one newspaper article with the headline, Down With Human Life. We get in, switch on, and then it’s heads down until we’re half blind. That’s erotica editorial.

What’s under your desk?

The Black Lace Sexual Fantasies questionnaires from the nineties and all the old samples from fetish photographers that I can’t bear to throw away. I love erotic photography. Plus all of the covers going back to the beginning – two copies of each. Beside that, dust, dried tears, and the odd paperclip.

When you do that scan-opening-of-submitted-writing thing that all busy editors do, what do you look for?

A good concise, legible covering letter, a simple outline and three chapters. It’s not rocket science, but accounts for about one in ten submissions. It’s amazing how impressive a succinct, intelligent letter can be, informing us that a writer has read our fiction and guidelines, and has written erotica before, and is a fan of erotica, and has written X to the right word limit. Self-important braying in a weird type-face, preceding 400K words of something about torture, or how an ex husband was a bastard, has the opposite effect.

What's your worst bug-bear in bad writing - the thing that really gets your goat?

Overwriting in sex scenes – a belief that if you fill a passage full of throbbings etc it’s good. It shows a total lack of respect for readers of erotica. I get it from agents too – here, your readers will love this "filth", one said to me recently. I doubt the agent had even read a word of their client’s work. I saw red.

Add a total ignorance of the craft and a failure to rewrite – ie first drafts that are dashed off and posted by big egos. It’s just a waste of everybody’s time.

And finally, a total ignorance of our imprints.

What's the thing you love most in good writing - something that thrills you when you see it?

A seamless integration of action with convincing dialogue and exposition – considered and inspired writing. To get that visceral tug inside when I know I am reading a real writer with a passion for the erotic.

What (non-erotica) do you enjoy reading in your personal time?

I read widely – lots of dark literary fiction, 20th century American fiction (Bellow, Updike, Doctorow, McCarthy etc), quality horror, classic supernatural fiction, books about writing and writers. Memoirs by soldiers and men tested by extremes of late.

Do you get horny reading our stuff? Ever? Oh come on, surely occasionally...?

There are times when I do feel a pleasing tremor run up and down my spine, after a button has been pushed. I’m only human.

Thank you Adam for giving us so much of your time - and for being so candid and informative. It's much appreciated!

Thank you for having me, and I’m sorry it’s taken me about a year to finish this interview.

What's Taking You So Long In There?

by Janine Ashbless

Okay, so this isn’t actually a picture of me. But if it was, I could tell you exactly what she’s thinking there:

"Hey. Wow. What if my heroes START in Damascus and GO to Baghdad? Oh yeah. That means they could visit the House of Wisdom. Cool! And I don’t have to worry about the princess having an actual historical, documented family: I can make it all up! Yes. Yes! Awesome!"

That’s because I do my creative thinking in the shower. Not exclusively of course, but often enough that I can more or less rely on that time to get plot details tweaked, and new elements will often come to me in that inexplicable ZAPP way that is the nicest thing about the creative process. Either in the shower, or sat on the bathroom mat wrapped in a towel afterwards. Sometime I don’t emerge until nearly noon. I’m not sure what it is about getting washed – the fluid play of the water, the familiar automatic movements that keep your body busy while freeing the mind – but it seems to work.

On occasions when I’m stuck for an idea or a solution to a plot problem, my other technique is to have a 10-minute nap and then force myself to lie there after I wake up. My mind has re-ordered itself during sleep and new possibilities occur – but not if I get up and start wandering round the house. On the other hand I never get ideas when I lie down at night, which I hear is fairly common: when I go to bed I fall asleep in nano-seconds and any muses out there just skip on past, giggling.

Creating a novel is 95% dogged work, but we all need those epiphanies, those little pieces of originality and inspiration, that seem to arrive from some other place (out of the blue sky, up from the depths of the subconcious) and blunder into our minds. Learning where they hang out, how to tempt them closer, how to lay traps for those elusive little creatures, is skill I’ve had to learn.
So I figured I’d ask some other Lusties how they did it too…

---

Is there a special place/time of day that ideas come to you ?

Portia : I quite often get ideas for plots and characters and stories while getting washed in the bathroom, or taking a bath or shower. (Hah! See! – Janine)

Olivia: I dream my way through my stories in the shower a lot (Are we spotting a thread here? – Janine). I'm not much of a morning person and frequently forget I'm supposed to be soaping & rinsing & then getting dressed, so I end up staring out the window thinking I'm one of my characters. Long walks with my ipod are excellent planning time, and because there's no pen and paper handy, it stops me committing to ideas too quickly - much better, sometimes, just to let drift, see scenes unfold, and decide later if they'll actually work. I give myself a vague focus for the walk -- yup: vague focus, idea-finding is all about contradiction, thinking about a story without thinking about it, concentrating less on productivity to be more productive, etc.

Sometimes I find my mind has wandered completely and I remind myself of the focus, only to realise I've been thinking intensely about one of the characters and am so much in their head that I've forgotten it's a character's thoughts and not my own. Oxford's great for walking like that: you can criss-cross the entire city and barely touch foot on concrete if you don't want to. Yes: in Oxford, everyone can fly... And there have to be trees. The trees are in on it, and if they're not there, I can't think. Any automated activity helps me think, so when I'm planning a novel, I cook, wash windows, clean the house, take long baths, and garden. If all else fails, I sit in a coffee shop brainstorming. And if everything else fails, bring out the candles and red wine and the very loud music.

Madeline: If I'm not at my desk I can usually be found in my bed, so most of my ideas come to me in bed, usually at night. It's the idea that's the toughest part for me (maybe for everyone) and many of my ideas are too wacky for the genre. (Just don’t ask her about the Mad Cow story! – Janine)

The ideas take shape in my mind but the dialogue, etc. only comes when I'm at the computer. I may have jotted down a couple of lines but once I'm at the keyboard my fingers fly and the piece takes form, and not before.

Erastes: Usually I get my best ideas in that inbetween time between sleep and waking - this is usually the most dangerous because I think to myself that I'll DEFINITELY remember this when I wake up and I never do so I've started always having a pen and paper by the bed.

Kate: Usually as I'm drifting off to sleep or just waking up I get my best ideas-sometimes when I listen to lyrics as well

Do you ever get writers' block?

Portia: Not full blown writers block, but sometimes it's hard to summon enthusiasm.

Olivia: YES! I find it intensely irritating when some novelists, usually men, say rather smugly, "Well, I think writer's block is ridiculous, I mean plumbers don't get plumber's block!" And I think: yeah, which is why you write like you're fixing a u-bend. Every time I start a book I'm dumbstruck by my own presumption. When I lived in London, I was blocked for two and a half years - no trees, see - and it was terrifying.

Madeline: Unfortunately I'm the type of person who needs an ironclad routine in order to work steadily. Visitors, events, even a night out throw me right off. Christmas takes me a month to prepare for and two months to get over. I seem to be felled by illness a lot, in the last few years, and when I'm sick I collapse totally into an 'I'm dying' state that's probably harder to recover from than the actual illness.

Erastes: Not so much block but I just feel disinterested in continuing to write what I'm writing. When I first started out I used to get blocked because every time I finished something I got this horrible black veil which made me feel that I'd never be able to write anything else ever again but each time I found I could, and did - so I got out of that habit and don't get blocked. But when I get BORED that's lethal because I just put off even opening the file and looking at it.

Kate: Not really, I don't have time :)

If so, do you have special techniques to overcome it?

Portia: No, not really. Eventually I feel so guilty at not writing anything that I just grit my teeth and write *something*, even if it's rubbish.

Olivia: Apart from moving out of London and not letting wild horses drag me back? Yes - lots - mostly about getting back on the horse or not getting off it in the first place. As it's my living, I can't afford to just stop, however paralysed I feel. Writing in a different document, in italics, and without normal punctuation can help me feel that my words aren't committed in stone, and get the flow back; I switch to longhand if it gets dire; I change location (back to the coffee shop!); I chain myself to the desk for a specific length of time; I switch off the wireless connection; I write reassuring messages and stick them up on the wall next to me. One of my most helpful discoveries was that I can write through the teeth of terror thinking that every single word is shit and end up with a story that takes my breath away. My short story for Sex With Strangers, "Barely Grasped Pictures", was dragged out sentence by sentence, like blood from a stone, with my head halfway through the computer screen, and I still think it's one of the best stories I've written. Then, of course, the little voice says "You'll never write something that good again..." Silence the little voice! It's lies, all lies!

Madeline: There's nothing like a 'call for submissions' to get me going.

I've dabbled in all sorts of genres over the years but I started in the short story form and it's immensely satisfying to finally be able to write a good short story. The restrictions and requirements of erotica have freed me. Strange, but true.
All I really need to do is sit at my desk and pull up my work in progress, and the work starts. Sometimes it's incredibly difficult but that doesn't show in the work. Sometimes it's easy, and again, that doesn't show in the work. I'm finding that as I mature as a writer the first draft (which used to be my favourite to write) is by far the most difficult. Used to be that my pleasure in the process went downhill after that, but now I rewrite happily until the piece is in place. More and more, I get my greatest pleasure from 'turning words' as they say. (Well, I suppose my greatest pleasure as a writer comes from having my submission accepted, but in terms of the process, these days I'm really enjoying the rewrite.)

Erastes: I push myself through it. A good friend said that it was important to put the words down and if they weren't good words it didn't matter - they could be made better later and that's good advice. So I just write on, even if it's as dull as "Gideon woke up and got dressed" because as long as I'm progressing the story, that's good - I can go back and pretty the prose up later.

Kate: I do try and take some time off every week and a bigger vacation each year and do something completely different-I also use ‘The Artist's Way' by Julia Cameron if I really feel creatively drained.

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Jonathan Swift said, I’m told: "Man is never more at thought than when he is at stool." Oddly enough our authors don’t subscribe to the Toilet Theory of Inspiration! - and personally I read on the loo. But go on, do tell – where do YOU hunt down those ideas? What do you do when the Great Ideas Famine strikes? And how does the rest of the family cope when you hog the bathroom?

xxx
Janine Ashbless
Blog : Website

"His throbbing member"

by Olivia Knight

Dangerous Liaisons: the nasty and delicious Viscount Valmont has set about ruining the happy little virgin, Cecile de Valonges: ‘Now,’ he says, running his tongue down her shuddering breasts, ‘ I think we might begin with one or two Latin terms…’

He may begin with Latin terms, but for erotica writers, ‘penis’ usually won’t do. ‘He placed his penis in her vagina’ is a public information documentary, not porn. On the other end of the scale, no porn pastiche is complete without a throbbing member, as in ‘He thrust his throbbing member into her dripping honey-well.’ So what do we say?

Jean Auel, of The Mammoth Hunters fame, is the queen of throbbing members: they’re huge, hot, and they always throb:

Jondalar was so swollen, so big, how would he fit himself in her? … Her eyes were drawn to his throbbing member…His manhood was throbbing eagerly, impatiently …Only few women had depth enough to take in all of him…
– Jean M. Auel, The Valley of the Horses

No penises for Ms Auel: members, manhoods, or – at a push – shafts. She wouldn’t pass the Black Lace guidelines, which beg authors to ‘hold the euphemisms’ and specifically not to say ‘the centre of her womanhood / his rampant manhood’ etc. Body parts, they observe stiffly, only throb when they’re injured, and men do not talk about their ‘glans’. What’s arousing in a situation is ‘not the exact length, colour and consistency of the guy’s cock,’ which means curtains for Fanny Hill, too – arguably the first porn novel.

In his seminal (and there’s plentiful semen) book, John Cleland does much the same as Freud: take men’s experience, mirror-image it, get women’s. Voilà! And so he describes dicks, from his female characters’ points of view, with the loving attentiveness usually reserved for breasts:

I saw, with wonder and surprise, what? not the plaything of a boy, not the weapon of a man, but a maypole of so enormous a standard that, had proportions been observed, it must have belonged to a young giant: yet I could not, without pleasure, behold, and even venture to feel such a length, such a breadth of animated ivory! perfectly well-tuned and fashioned, the proud stiffness of which distended his skin, whose smooth polish and velvet softness might vie with that of the most delicate of our sex, and whose exquisite whiteness was not a little set off by a sprout of black curling hair around the root, through the jetty sprigs of which the fair skin showed as in a fine evening you may have remarked the clear light ether through the branchwork of distant trees overtopping the summit of a hill: then the broad and bluish-casted incarnate of the head, and blue serpentines of its veins, altogether composed the most striking assemblage of figure and colours in nature. In short, it stood an object of terror and delight.
– John Cleland, Fanny Hill, or, Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure

We tend to be more restrained about ‘prodigious engines of pleasure’ and ‘tools of monstrous proportions’ – it’s a cock, not a battering ram, and we’re describing sex, not a photographic close-up. Occasionally, however, it’s an object worthy of detailed attention:

My mouth goes first dry, then begins to water with sensual hunger. As does his glans ... I smear the silky fluid over the hot, flared head of his cock. The solid flesh is hard, like polished wood, the superfine skin stretched by his extreme arousal. This magnificent organ is a thing of raw, physical beauty, the very expression of primal maleness, the essence of man.
…His body is a gift, a living sex toy.
And an object of worship.
– Portia da Costa, In Too Deep, out in September 2008

She said glans! (I promise not to tell.) She also, mostly, says ‘cock’. We have a plethora of synonyms – just take a listen to Monty Python’s Penis Song…

… but, as Janine Ashbless says, ‘Everyone knows what a cock is,’ even if she prefers prick. In historical settings, you can get away, as she does, with ‘pintle’, ‘pizzle’, and ‘tarse’ (I’ll pass). She swears blind that ‘phallus’ is good for high fantasy settings and she even throws in a few Latin terms: phalli, anyone? (Madelynne Ellis has already covered more historical terms in her post Sexy Slang.) Erastes, also writing historicals, manages to slip in some ‘loins’ in Standish and – this is man-on-man – cocks abound:

Then oh joy, hands again, on the top of his thighs, rubbing them gently, hot breath on his cock, then a tongue, lapping at his scrotum, making him gasp as each sac was licked and nipped, and taken into a hot mouth, rolled around and then left in the cold, while the mouth moved on, never still.
– Erastes, Standish

Action, not description, is the order of the day with modern erotica, but even to describe a cock in action you still need more than one word. After four chapters of my first erotic novel, The Ten Visions, my own inventiveness ran out and I summoned my free-minded friends to a cocktail bar for a brain-storming session. True brain-storming, it was a free-for-all: no word too foul, too childish, too naff, or too plain absurd for inclusion.

The words fell into categories, most distinctly masculine. We had weapons: club, spear, javelin, flesh burner, arrow, shot-gun, and sabre. We had machinery by the truckload: sledgehammer, drill, rocket, tool, sputnik, gear-stick, hose, shuttle, and piston. We had a bit of food (sausage, meat-and-two-veg, hotdog) and some appeals to the natural world (stamen, branch, woodie, slug, snake, trunk). We got coy, with manhood, length, appendage, his triumph, hardness, member, loins, and lingam, or preferred to describe the smoke rather than the fire: his bulge, his groin. We turned childish: weiner, willy, schlong, and dong. No-one remembers or will admit to putting forward ‘fish’.

I lurched proudly homewards with my very own Olivia’s Thesaurus of Filth (penis wasn’t the only subject we covered), but as the cocktails wore off I reread it. When would I ever refer to a man’s sputnik? Could I ever write ‘stamen’ or ‘lingam’ without hurling at my own cute bashfulness? And why, pacifist and feminist that I am, would I ever describe cocks as weapons? Did I even have three useful terms? Yes, as it turned out, because it’s all a question of context.

In The Ten Visions, when Adrian gives it to his ex with Sarah witnessing through magic, weapons are perfect for the scene:

She felt the thrill of that constricting passage, the ache to push harder, how Adrian’s spear danced with excitement at Clara’s wail. His hand seized one of the small breasts, using it to pull himself up from his knees onto her. His weight lodged his weapon deeper inside and the girl howled to be fucked.
– Olivia Knight, The Ten Visions

In a very different scene between Sarah and Adrian, they’re in a place of perfect purity and she’s discovering his earth-magic, so the flowery terms I disdained suddenly have their place:

The deliberation of each movement made it exquisitely tense, as they trembled against each other’s skin. She pulled her leg up gradually until her inner thigh rested on his sharp hip bone. Her tender lips unfurled like an orchid, exposing her entrance to the cold air. The swollen head of his stamen nudged against her small bud.

In ‘Barely Grasped Pictures’ – still my favourite of my short stories – only ‘cock’ would do, but in ‘Innana’s Temple’, in 3000 BC, ‘tool’ made sense. And in the novella The Dragon Lord (coming out 1 May in Magic and Desire), I found a place for arrows, rods, shafts, and even, memorably, a slug. Everything has its time and place. Perhaps I’ll go hard-core urban soon, and use some drills and sputniks.

So what’s your preferred word for – you know, a thingie – and what makes you cringe? What’s the best and worst descriptions you’ve read (or written)? And have you ever said, in all sincerity, ‘his throbbing member’?

Sex and Comedy

by Sophie Mouette (aka Dayle & Teresa)

“Really, sex and laughter do go very well together, and I wondered—and I still do—which is more important.” (Hermione Gingold, Canadian Actress, 1897-1987)

“Laughter is the best tension reliever and sex is second. So if you’re having funny sex you're probably in good shape.” (Mark Gorkin, “The Stress Doc,” Licensed Clinical Social Worker)
Despite these comments, some people still think that erotica and humor don’t mix well. A recent interview with Morrow/Avon editor Lucia Macro in Romance Writer’s Report sounds the death knell for romantic comedy—done to death, this editor surmises, by too many heroines who were supposed to be funny and lovable, but came off as helpless and ditzy. (Although she does say “a dose of humor” is welcome.) And can the ever-popular alpha male have a sense of humor? (One of us knows a dominant who favors Hawaiian shirts and Hello Kitty sunglasses, just to confuse his sub, but the dominant/alpha male as seen in romance novels tends to be dark and brooding and lacking in the ability to laugh, except menacingly.)

When Teresa pitched our manuscript Out of the Frying Pan—an erotic romance whose secondary characters include a cross-dressing Vin Diesel look-alike action hero—to an editor, the editor stared blankly. “It’s sexy…and romantic…and comic?” she finally said. “How would that work?” The editor was young. Perhaps she hadn’t learned that the pleasures and pitfalls of falling in lust/love can be comedy gold, at least when they’re happening to fictional characters. (We prescribe a course of classic Hepburn films, where the dialogue is sharp and snappy and the sexual tension is thick enough to cut with a knife, even if everyone keeps their clothes on.)

Dark and angsty themes are all very well, but sex and love can be pretty hilarious, too. Plus, just because the sex is serious doesn’t mean your whole life is. It’s not necessarily the sex that’s funny, but we believe a romantic comedy can be really sexy, too. And that’s often what we set out to write.

In the case of our story “Behind the Masque,” (in Sex with Strangers) there’s sly humor in the voice of the narrator, a jewel thief with attitude:

I glanced down at my enticingly displayed décolletage. I could talk the talk, but the girls helped, too.

I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve been pulled over for speeding, only to drive away without a ticket. I can convince the proprietor of a swanky shop that I really did buy this item, but I lost the receipt, and I honestly do deserve a refund. I can charm the fur off a mountain lion, as they say.

And when she gets down and dirty with a security guard she needs to distract, the heat gets serious, but she keeps the attitude:

He was leaning over me to kiss and lick and suckle, though, so I was humping empty air.

Until he stood and my mound connected with the impressive swelling in his uniform pants.

Oh! Well, then.

‘What have we here?’ I murmured. Unable to keep my hands off something like that—a hard cock is almost as enticing as a hot rock, and certainly more fun to play with—I pressed my palm against the bulge.

His hips jerked, and I felt his prick throb even through my gloves. My mouth watered.

Well, what better way to keep a man distracted? With a rustle of silk and brocade, I sank to my knees.

[…]From Joe’s reactions, I was pretty sure he wouldn’t have noticed a parade of elephants galumphing down the hall.

Sometimes, though, it’s not just the tone or the voice. Sometimes ridiculous things really do happen when you’re making love—as our two heroines in “Busted” (in Caught Looking) discover:

I couldn’t form a coherent answer. She buried two fingers in my folds, pressed them up into me. I clamped down on them, desperate for release. The combination of thrusting fingers and the thumb she had pressed against my clit and her mouth clamped on my aching nipple was overwhelming. So many sensations, driving me further to the edge.

I crashed over into orgasm, grinding myself against her hand. I clutched the headrest with one hand and pounded against the car’s ceiling with the other. “Fuck, yes!”

And that’s when a bright light shone in the window and a strident male voice said, “All right, kids, let’s break it up in there.”

It was the voice rather than the light that caught my attention, largely because my bare ass was facing the window, giving the officer a fine view. I pulled my bra up, and tumbled sideways into the driver’s seat, my feet still tangled in my jeans. The action revealed Elle’s breasts in all their glory. She yanked the edges of the cardigan together, but not before the cop outside got a nice eyeful.

Shit. Cop

I’d been caught making out in a car before. Even caught by a cop. But never with a cop herself. Never when one of my partner’s co-workers, essentially, was watching.

Crap.

I reached behind my seat and flailed around for my shirt.

“Jesus, MacIntyre.” Elle’s voice sounded annoyed rather than embarrassed. She rolled down the window a little farther and glared up at him. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

And sometimes, the funny things lead to more hotness:

The way I was squirming wasn’t just from embarrassment. Some little part of me was turned on, not so much by what actually happened as by images running through my head.

(Caught Looking is an voyeur/exhibitionist anthology. Extrapolate from here, or better yet, buy the book and read the whole sexy story.)

Our novel Cat Scratch Fever takes place at a wild cat sanctuary that’s being vandalized. One of the volunteers, a former juvenile delinquent trying to go straight, discovers quite by accident that a sewer pipe has broken.

He stopped dead in his tracks. Across the green, his single utterance was loud and clear.

“Shit!”

“Language, Lance,” Felicia called.

“Crap!”

“We’ve talked about appropriate language—” Felicia tried again, amazed at his sudden descent into crudeness after weeks of him being successfully polite. Cleaning up his language, both grammar and colourful euphemisms, was part of the deal if he was to stay as a volunteer, and he’d been working hard at it.

He had dropped the bucket and rake, and now gestured helplessly, pointing at the ground. “Well, what do you want me to call it?!”

And that’s when the slight breeze shifted towards her. Felicia felt the bile rise in her throat.

But earlier in the book, another character had had the opportunity to see a different side of our bad boy, proving he could be just as hot as he was humorous.

She’d heard that tongue piercings made a huge difference for oral sex—and, from other people, that they didn’t. Melissa was enough of a scientist at heart that she tried to maintain a certain objectivity and figure out the truth. She could definitely feel the stud, a hard ball slipping over her slippery flesh, tantalizing the nerve endings in a slightly different way from the tongue itself.

But it’s hard to stay objective for long when a gorgeous boy is licking your clit—with or without a pierced tongue—and pushing two fingers inside you. Maybe it was the piercing, the rush from the “porn-star moment,” the fulfilment of her long-time yearning for a down-and-dirty session with a bad boy. Or maybe Lance just liked eating pussy and did it well.

All she could say for sure is that she was rapidly losing her mind.

At the end of Cat Scratch Fever we had an erotic clinch in a walk-in freezer that paused (frustratingly so for the characters in the clinch) for a humorous moment. They’re interrupted by Valerie, a wacky and kinky board member who calls out to them, although they don’t respond in the hopes that she’ll go away…

(Warning: Contains spoilers. A name has been disguised to protect the guilty.)

“Well,” called Valerie, “I was just coming to say goodnight.” Something in the tone of her voice suggested that she knew perfectly well what Felicia was up to in the fridge.

Gabe was inside her to the hilt; she was stretched around him. She felt his hand worm its way around her and between her thighs to stroke her wet clit.

Staying quiet was getting harder by the second.

She fluttered and clenched around him, and felt his hips jerk in response. Well, if he was going to torture her, she was going to torture him back. Now a little roll while she tightened some more.

She bit her own lip. That had been a mistake, at least from a keeping-quiet point of view.

“Oh, and I wanted to let you in on a little secret,” Valerie continued, “just between us girls, because I know how angry you are at [the villain]. I suggested to the police that [he] would probably need a thorough going-over, just in case he’s hiding anything. Can you imagine how surprised they’ll be when they find the butt plug that’s stuffed in him? Ta ta, dear!”

The woman’s delighted laugh, which didn’t sound the least bit demented under the circumstances, faded as she left the café.

Felicia was so stunned by the revelation that for a moment, her mind went blank. Then Gabe started moving again, thrusting into her and manipulating her clit at the same time. Felicia clutched the shelf so hard that she thought she might yank the bolts out of the wall.

“God, yes!” Gabe gasped, suddenly moving faster. The blood buzzed in Felicia’s ears as she responded, clamping down around him and shuddering through another orgasm along with him.

Only then, spiralling down from her climax, did she start to giggle. Gabe leaned against her, and she felt his chest rock with his own laughter.

In the real world, guys with a sense of humor have a better chance of getting hooked up—so why shouldn’t our heroines appreciate a man’s rapier wit as much as his killer abs and ginormous erection? (After all, under normal circumstances, you can check out the wit sooner than the…other important attributes.) And besides, science is on our side!

“[N]ew research suggests, humor talent does offer a possible advantage in the contest to proliferate offspring…. At least that’s the implication of a study of college students at McMaster University in Canada. Psychologists Eric Bressler and Sigal Balshine presented the students with photos of comparably attractive members of the opposite sex, accompanied by autobiographical statements supposedly authored by the people pictured. On average, women rated the ‘funny’ men as more romantically desirable than the plain talkers.” (science writer Tom Siegfried)

Then again, maybe we should let someone who's both funny and sexy have the last word, not a bunch of scientists. And so we turn to cartoon bombshell Jessica Rabbit, heroine of the hilarious (although admittedly not very erotic) movie Who Framed Roger Rabbit? When the unnaturally curvy redhead is asked why she loves her husband—a manic animated rabbit in the vein of Bugs Bunny—she replies, simply, “He makes me laugh.”

... But I Won't Do That!

by Janine Ashbless

She ran her hand down Brad’s chest and stomach, all the way down to that silky cock touched by morning sunlight. Brad stirred, woke and turned to her with a sleepy but wicked smile. They kissed , their tongues-
NO!! STOPPIT!!

Brad took a mouthful of champagne, then pressed his lips to hers. Insinuating the tip of his tongue, he parted her lips enough to let the liquid, warm from his body but still fizzy, pass from his mouth to hers-
NO!!! AARGH !!! OHMYGOD I’M GOING TO HURL…

Okay, it’s a bit embarrassing. I’m a smutwriter. I write - whisper it because my mother might be listening - porn. So I should, like, have the heart and stomach for just about anything, right? Nothing should shock me. (Well, nothing legal.) All expressions of consensual sexual passion should find a place in my imagination and my writing, shouldn’t they? I mean, I’ve covered exhibitionism and panty-wetting, bondage and anal, threesomes and facials, gay sex and dragons. What’s my problem?

My problem is that like most people I have my Achilles’ heel. My problem is that I’m not the omnisexual lust-goddess I ought to be.

My problem is kissing.

Yeah. I can’t stand kissing with tongues. In real life, a peck on the lips is the furthest anyone gets and French kissing makes me run for the hills. You see, I’ve a mild phobia about saliva. Mostly (but not entirely) other people’s saliva. It’s just GROSS! Yes, I know my attitude is irrational and stupid: saliva is the most insipid, harmless and inoffensive of all the body products, and I don’t have any particular problem with the others. I can stick my tongue anywhere else on my partner’s body – but not in their mouth. I can’t bear to watch someone cleaning their teeth. As for that romantic morning-after kiss in movies – I have to put my hands over my face. And I cannot bring myself to write it.

There are of course other motifs I don’t write about; mostly because they are things that don’t spark my imagination. Sex toys and vibes are fine and fun but I can’t fetishise them for literary purposes. I can write femdom but I don’t do submissive males (I can write raging chained-up men just dandy! But they have to be forced rather than willingly submissive. Maybe I should worry about this…) . But the fact is, if I tried I could put myself imaginatively into the shoes of someone who was fixated by such themes. I could write them. I just haven’t done it yet.

Kissing … No Way. It’s not a case of Don’t, it’s Won’t. I won’t fake it that far.

I would do anything for love – but I won’t do that.

So I thought I’d ask around at Lust Bites Mansion and find out if the other authors had any embarrassing little quirks, weaknesses, or aversions. It’s a busy day, because we’re all gearing up for our First Birthday. Yes – we’re nearly One Year Old!

Before we set off, by the way, here’s the small print:
This post is offered in a light-hearted spirit, without intention of oppressing or marginalising People Who Kiss. I don’t like kissing. I am allowed not to like it, and to express that feeling. You are allowed to regard me as a silly twat. You do not need my or anyone else’s approval or consent, explicit or implicit, to validate your Consensual Kissing Lifestyle: you are an autonomous adult, for chrissakes. Exactly the same goes for all other opinions expressed below.
Terms and conditions apply. The value of your investments may go down as well as up.

First of all I found Dayle Dermatis vigorously warming up the band in the Ballroom. She has a dedicated musical streak, you know. She told me: "Here's what I don't get, or do: showers of any sort. Golden, brown, rainbow. I THINK I can understand the idea behind golden showers, or at least the idea that having to pee a little can enhance sensations, but that's it. Keep those bodily fluids far, far away from me. I don't think I could even write about them convincingly. Heck, I don't even like portapotties!"

Olivia Knight was in the Kitchen, doing something fairly surprising with a broomstick to a nice young man. She said: "Leather masks - they're freaky. Gimps are disgusting. A nose squashed down by fabric is as horrible a sight as a missing nose, to me. Even in shop windows, they don't suggest a dark and dangerous world of edgy thrills - it's the visual equivalent of stepping in a dog-turd. Barefoot. Along with leather masks, I won't have anything to do with master/mistress action - but that's because I have a sense of humour and I can't say "Yes, sir" with a straight face. (I was a difficult child at school.) Role-playing is like the elephant in the room, and while everyone's cowering or towering, I want to yell, "Get over yourself! It's a game! You're just pretending!" I like my characters (and my people) to be absolutely true to themselves, which is hard to do when you're coming over all strict-nanny and secretly loving it."

Portia Da Costa said: "I just listen to the story and write what it tells me to. And my psyche tells me to write pretty tame stuff and lovey-dovey romance." Then she went back to instructing the Sommelier: a handsome older man whom she had somehow persuaded to wear a dress. To be honest I don't believe the "tame" bit, Portia!

Mathilde Madden "won’t do clothes. Shopping sprees, being spoilt by men with unlimited financial resources, sugar daddies paying for lovely shoes or pretending to be a high class hooker and dressing up in whorewear. I like to write about women making their own sexual fantasies come true, not having sex to get other things. Not dressing to please. And female exhibitionism is a mystery to me. I’m a voyeur. And – talking of clothes - I can’t stand too much description of what the female character is wearing. I so don’t care. Or her ‘slender yet curvy’ body. Tell me about what the guy looks like!" Luckily Mathilde is in charge of Security for the party and her team of enormous muscular men obediently wear no clothes at all.

Kate Pearce, who was out in the Stables discussing marquee ropes with some dusty fellows in boots and leather chaps, surfaced from the hay long enough to gasp "I just don't get the whole chain me up, treat me like a dog and put me in a cage thing." Then she was lassoed back inside with a cry of "Yee-hah!"

Probably that was just as well because at that moment along came Kristina Lloyd, who is co-ordinating the entertainment for the evening – some sort of puppet show, she says with a wicked glint in her eye. She told me: "There's loads of stuff I don't write about because I'm not really into it rather than because it transgresses some limits. I stick to femsub and I explore it quite deeply. And it's my kind of femsub, meaning the scenarios are often rough, humiliating, unpolished. I don't depict formalised role-play and disciplining. Authority figures (daddy, master, teacher) give me the creeps. My male characters' dominance is about testosterone and cunning rather than elevated social status. And I'd sooner chop off my right arm than write 'He' when it should be 'he'. Ew! Domming via bad grammar. It makes everyone look so silly."

Madeline Moore, busy setting up the poker table, was particularly specific: "One line I will not say and will not write. It’s this: ‘I could have peed my pants!’ This is a statement women use to indicate that their funny bones have been tickled in a big way. I hear it a lot, always from women. Why don’t guys, who’ll say anything, never say that? I don’t find pee sexy, but I might write a golden showers scene someday, who knows? It’s not beyond me to why some women get off on the intimacy of a partner’s warm, sterile bodily fluid splashing over her skin, running in yellow rivulets down the crack of her ass, over her thighs, her breasts, what the hell, even into her mouth. I think I get it. What I don’t get is why so many women are blithely willing to share their bladder inadequacies with all and sundry. Who among us wants to know that she has poor bladder control?"

Alison Tyler, who is going to be in charge of the cocktail bar, was directing her staff out on the Patio (Brave considering the time of year, but she always brings the California sun with her). She looked worried: "I don't know. I don't know what I won't do. As soon as I think, hmmm, I can't comprehend that smoking fetish, someone will patiently explain why watching Catherine Deneuve inhale makes them want to shoot. Or if I question the eroticism of sploshing, I will find myself invited to a sit-on-a-cherry-pie party, and all bets will be off. But I suppose this is my general rule: I think of anything in the erotic world that might seem off-putting, and then imagine Jason Isaacs (or whomever) asking me to do that to him. Damn, how quickly my viewpoint shifts."

But the last word goes to Teresa Noelle Roberts, speaking from the Hot Tub where she and her piscine friend Dylan were getting the temperature just right: "What I have the hardest time writing is basic vanilla sex. With well-developed characters, it works, because then it's about the characters and the relationship. However, in a shorter piece without a strong emotional context, it can get very Tab A and Slot B. Boring! Don't get me wrong. Vanilla sex can be lovely with the right person, but writing about it...it's the "right person" factor there. Toys and tricks and third parties make it easy to focus on the hot physical details, but when it's one-on-one and pretty straightforward, you have to get the characters' heads and hearts involved or the story's flat. And when you've got 2000 words or less, that's a challenge!"

So there you go. Oddly, nobody else mentioned kissing at all, but most of us have our stumbling blocks. What about the rest of you out there?

xxx

Janine Ashbless

Website : Myspace blog