Learning how to write sex
Drawing by Jorge Melicio
For the past nine weeks I’ve been following a remarkable 31-part “how to write sex” course taught by urban fantasy writer Stacia Kane, who also writes erotic romance for Ellora’s Cave as December Quinn, and whose talent and wit help make her a superb teacher.
To let you taste the flavour of this course, here’s a paragraph from Stacia’s introduction:
No matter what, once your characters have had sex, their relationship changes. Irrevocably. Actually, their relationship should change with every conversation, every casual touch, every glance, every kiss, even if it’s not readily apparent. But it is impossible for your characters to have sex and not see each other differently afterward. And that is one of the “jobs” of the sex scene, to show that relationship actually changing…
I’ll be honest. When we started this course, I thought I could write sex scenes. I wanted to learn how to do it better, but I reckoned I didn’t do too badly already. After all, I’m a sexual human being and a writer. What could be more natural than combining two passions to create good sex on the page?
Well, it transpired that lots of things came more naturally to me. For example: telling rather than showing.
I know, I know. That’s one of the basic writing faults we all learn about early in our careers.
But it turns out that many writers “tell rather than show” when writing sex. I don’t know why others do it, but I was doing it because I was uncomfortable.
Which, again, is plain weird. I’ve tackled uncomfortable things before in my writing and working through them fine, and anyway, I’m very comfortable about sex. So what’s the deal, here?
Actually, I did know I had a problem with one scene I’d already written, but I didn’t identify the problem until the end of Stacia’s brilliant course.
It wasn’t that I’m uncomfortable writing sex, but that I was uncomfortable writing this particular bit of sex. This one is a love scene, a romantic “first time between these two” sex scene, a universe-rocking recognition of mutual love.
Oh, and there’s the complication of their psychic connection, which allows them to hear each other’s thoughts and feel each other’s sensations as well as their own. But I always saw that as a wonderful opportunity rather than a problem.
No. My problem was that I wanted their love to shine through, to make it much more than just sex, and it seems that desire made me uncomfortable about being too graphic.
I wrote it all wrong. Instead of exploring their wonderful love through wonderful sex, I showed their thoughts and emotions but told the sex.
I backed away from it.
On Stacia’s course, I learned not only how to engage with the sexual love, but also how to write it well. It’s an art in itself. And I didn’t have a clue. I didn’t even know enough to know there was stuff I didn’t know.
I do know I’ll return to Stacia’s course content again and again, and I recommend it to you. It’s simply the best How To writing course I’ve ever experienced. Part 1 is here.
I’ve cross-posted this article to my Writing Journal and placed my rewritten sex scene under a Friends-only cut. I do it this way with all my excerpts, to protect against theft and maintain first rights. You’re all welcome to Friend me there, if you’d like to read snippets of my work in progress.
anniegirl1138 said,
September 22, 2008 at 9:42 pm
Sex is hard to write. it ends up being a “how-to” if the characters don’t shine through.
David Bridger said,
September 22, 2008 at 10:01 pm
Indeed, Annie.
20somethingirl said,
September 23, 2008 at 2:56 am
This makes so much sense! sex changes real life relationships, so it makes sense to reflect that in a novel.
David Bridger said,
September 23, 2008 at 7:18 am
I think so, too.
sideon said,
September 23, 2008 at 8:43 pm
It took me a long time (years!) to tackle writing a sex scene. Somehow, at the time, it felt more vulnerable writing sexual content than anything else I’ve written. Feelings? Confessions? Opinions? Easy. But writing sexuality into a story-line felt much like that dream of going to school, naked. It’s been a year or so since I did write those scenes and it hasn’t been any easier. You said it well, that balance of show versus telling, and even now I’m not sure I succeeded, but the initial responses I had were positive.
David Bridger said,
September 24, 2008 at 12:53 am
I understand how you felt. It’s a very sensitive time, when we let our first sex scenes out into the world on their own.
And there’s always that fear of being labelled as one of those bad sex writers, which is compounded by the thought that people would probably think, “Well, if he’s so rubbish on the page he’s probably rubbish in bed too.”