Graphic from 123RF
I am obsessed with sex at the moment. Sex is on my mind day
and night. I wish I could talk to someone about it. No, not a therapist,
another writer. I am in the midst of my first work of fiction, an erotic
thriller.
I am out of my comfort zone, but learning how to deal with
it.
The idea for my book started a year ago. I wrote ten
thousand words, then let it alone. I kidded my friends I was writing porn (which
is what it seemed like to me) and had started smoking and drinking Jack Black
as I sat at the computer at night. I don’t do either, but laughed myself silly
with the image in my mind. I wrote a
funny article for an on-line site about trying to write erotica. A tongue in cheek
piece. I couldn’t decide where to put the tongue in my erotica, so I made a
joke of it, got a bit of mileage, and put my story on the back burner until I
was mature enough to make it work.
A few months ago I
decided it was time to bring the book out of the closet. Sex is integral to the
plot (no spoiler here, but trust me, the book would be stupid without sex if
you knew the storyline.) But I wanted clean erotica. Now there is a challenge.
How to make my book work, make it hot, but just not so graphic it kills the
rest of the story.
I feel like a tease on her first date. A virgin trying to
lose her virginity. Should I or shouldn’t I?
I read and reread the chapters. I’ve cleaned it up so much I
startled myself on the last go-round. Yet I still blush at some of the scenes
and wonder where did that come from?
I don’t want sex to
drive the story. Yet, without it, there is no story. It is a fun, chick-lit, women’s fiction,
semi-erotic tale that runs the gamut from vibrators, farmhouses, antiques, art,
roses, hydrangeas, a neurotic dog, fried green tomatoes, and a dash of murder.
A recipe for disaster or a blue ribbon winner?
When I figure out how to make the sex in my book work, I
might be ready to date again.
