I'm going to take Sarah's advice. Haven't yet. Kind of timid. But I'm going to do it. I'm going to write a fleshy, down-and-dirty, love scene. Going to use all the words I can think of. Just because. Just to say I wrote them. Just so I can look at it afterward and say, "I wrote that." And not, "I wrote that?" Won't be posting it here, that's for sure. What Sarah said was to keep this one secret. This is just a break out piece. Once that's done perhaps I can write something a bit more tame? More in line with what actually turns me on. I'm blushing writing that. I know I am. My neck feels warm.
It's funny about sex, isn't it? I don't mean "funny ha-ha". I mean funny, as in strange. Well, that was probably a bad way of putting it, too. I don't mean strange sex, I mean talking, or writing, about sex is so different than talking or writing about anything else. I find it far easier to confess my failures as a person, an employee, a parent, a child, a sibling, a friend, an athlete, a writer, a singer, a performer, or anything else, than to admit my failures regarding sex. I can talk about those other things, usually without blushing, with complete ease. But as soon as sex becomes the topic I'm blushing.
Is it me, or am I just the product of how I was raised? How I was raised seems a bit too easy, although it certainly has to come into play. Maybe it's because so much of the punishment I endured as a child was sexual in nature. One wasn't just spanked, one had their pants pulled down. Generally in public. Bedwetters were publically diapered and laughed at. That was the thing, you know. Punishment not only involved physical pain, but emotional pain always had to accompany it. Humiliation was the order of the day. And it always seemed to revolve around sex somehow.
And so we grow up with all kinds of inhibitions about sex. Taste a beer and one might get into trouble. What was the standard punishment for trying beer and cigarettes when I was young? "Make 'em drink until they get sick." "Make 'em smoke until they're ill." No one ever did that with sex. Get caught masterbating, or worse, experimenting with someone else, and the cry certainly wasn't, "Make 'em f--- until they throw up." No. The whole thing was treated as though it was the worst shameful act that could happen. More beatings and more humiliations.
And so we learn to keep it secret. That's private. Hell, I find it easier to talk about problems going to the bathroom than I do problems about sex. I suppose that's fine, but I want to write. I really do. And if I'm going to write something that seems real, I have to write in a way that presents whatever I write about as being real. And so I have to get past the past - without actually forgetting it. There is great value in remembering the pain. The shame. The anguish. The utter humiliation. Remembering these things helps me write characters who are experiencing pain, shame, anguish, and utter humiliation.
But how do I write a character who is comfortable with her sex, her sexuality, and her sexual preference (be it straight, bi, or lesbian, or whatever) when I am not so sure I am comfortable with those things for myself? I find myself envying those people who have come to terms with who they are regarding sex in all its forms. I think, if I could just be at peace with who and what I am I just might be able to write the things I want to write. But it's this shame thing. Still, maybe I can use that, too. Maybe that's where the tenderness comes from. The loving compassion which, to me, absolutely has to be part of good sex. If I could just put my feelings into it.
Meanwhile, I have an assignment. Going to write some rough, fleshy, down-and-dirty sex scenes. I doubt I'll find them arrousing, but the ice will be broken and maybe I can get through to the other side.
Good luck to me, huh?
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10 comments:
Not feeling comfortable with certain aspects of sexuality might give you the insight to write about characters who feel that way.
It's good to broaden your horizons though, so good luck with writing the down and dirty sex!
Thanks. It won't be something I'll give to anyone to read, but I'm hoping it helps.
The taboos in our society that surround sex are quite fascinating. We tell children it's dirty or bad and then wonder why as adults, we're ashamed to even think about it. One of the mini-themes that comes out in my writing concerns the lies that adults tell children - for their own good. As a society, we try to protect them and yet we wind up making it hard to be an adult and deal with such subjects.
I know exactly what you mean. My experience is here.
Do adults tell children these things "for their own good"? Or is it something deeper? Are adults just jealous of children for having something they don't? Innocence.
A long time ago I was at my uncle's cabin by a lake. He saw his son and a girl cousin rush to the outhouse at the same time. Curious, he went and climbed up so he could look in through a ventilation opening near the roof. The two children pulled their pants down, went to the bathroom, pulled their pants back up and went out to continue playing.
As adults we can no longer do that.
I read your link, Sarah. I don't know what to say. You write very powerfully, and I understand completely the confusion of "What did I do wrong? Please, tell me."
You don't say how old you were but I sense it was young. You didn't even understand what was going on. Something similar happened to me when I was young. Not so blatant, and we didn't get caught. But I don't forget it. I can't.
Too young.
Are adults just jealous of children for having something they don't? Innocence.
Now that's an interesting question. And I don't have an answer.
I don't know the answer either. But I see so many people treat their children just horribly. How can they do that? What's there to hate about a child - except their parents?
I see that too, Wings, it's a painful sight.
I think that most parents who abuse their children have issues of their own. The trick is to find a way to break the cycle but it's not easy.
I suppose not (breaking the cycle not being easy). For one thing, I wonder if these abusive parents even realize they're being abusive. My mother didn't. She got very upset when she was challenged on her behavior.
Allowing yourself the opportunity to write something just for you--not a journal, but some type of fiction that you want to attempt, or are trying to master, such as sex scenes or violence--is very empowering. You can do whatever you like and know that nobody else is going to know and nobody else is going ot judge. So you can stretch your self-imposed boundaries and gain some insights you might not otherwise have gained.
Besides, the more risks you take with your writing, the greater your writing is going to become. (Or that's my theory, anyhow.)
"the more risks you take with your writing, the greater your writing is going to become."
I like that. And I think I'm inclined to agree with it. I'm dealing with that very thing in my current WIP. My antagonist is into domination and humiliation. I've not written about these things before, and while I'm not entirely happy with what I've written, I like it that I wrote it.
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