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I twittered yesterday that the sex scene was beating my butt. When I went back to work around two in the afternoon, I had not a page to my name. By seven o’clock that night, I had 32 pages, and was done with one chapter and into the next. The muse was working with a whip, or maybe a really shiny carrot, because once it started pouring out, I was nearly frantic keeping up with it. It was one of those writing sessions where the world falls away, and you are IN to the scene. It was great. Moments like this are why you keep slogging through the days when it takes hours to get four pages, or less.

This was a scene where Anita was going to be with a guy she’d never been with, but someone who’d been on stage for several books. So, it’s an established character, but never crossed that barrier with her. So, I had to stay true to everyone’s character, but make the sex good. Someone once asked, why is all the sex good? My answer, what, you want to read about bad sex? But, honestly, the men talk in my head, and none of them are willing to take that reality hit. In real life, not every love making session is mind-blowing. It can be good, but sometimes you’re tired, it’s been a long day, and mind-blowing is just not happening. I look at my words on paper as the only chance to defend each man’s honor; his performance. Most men, if they could have someone write them as great lovers, they’d prefer that, my fictional men are no different. And, in fiction, unlike real life, you don’t want to repeat yourself too often, especially if you’ve got a different lover in the scene. In real life, if something works, it goes on the steady menu. You know, let’s do something from column B, and a little from column A, and do you feel spry enough for some column D? In fiction, you try not to repeat. Really, I need to do more foreplay in some scene soon. I mean, foreplay is a lot more fun to have then to read about. How many foreplay orgasms can you read about, or write, in one scene, before the reader feels like it’s enough? In real life, more is better. I guess this is one area where fiction isn’t as good as real life, because you have to cut some of the sex for time, and for the fact that experiencing doesn’t feel repetitive, but reading about orgasm after orgasm can sound repetive. I usually get around this problem with saying something about the orgasms blending into each other, or just that one led into another, but if you’re counting, you should really stop at three for the reader’s pacing. I save the multi-orgasm for the intercourse, and even there you have to be careful not to be too caught up in it. In real life, being caught up is the goal. So, sex really is better in real life. Hmm. In fiction, you’re braver, stronger, more perfectly beautiful, but for foreplay you have to cut it short. I guess life isn’t fair, even if you’re fictional.