Writing My First Sex Scene
Yes. You're allowed to wince at that one.
Sooo.
Hmm.
Awkward.
Not to belabor the point, but over the past few years as I considered where I was going to land most of my writing - the secular/mainstream market (as mainstream as horror/dark fiction can be, that is) or the Christian/ Inspirational market, this, of course, was only one of MANY things I had to kick around in my head. How was I going to write about humans, portray human nature in all of its beauty and ugliness, show all the grandeur and warts, if I always felt the pressure there were certain things "I couldn't write about", and that unless I wrote "this", "this", and left out "that" and "THOSE THINGS", I wouldn't get published?
For me PERSONALLY, (emphasis on the last), this runs contrary to everything I believe is fine and good and true about creative writing. Furthermore, as the last few years passed, I more and more considered myself - yes, I know, chuckle along with me - an "artist" rather than just a "writer". If I believe I'm called as an artist to portray and comment upon the human experience in its entirety, then the more I labeled "off limits", the more I limited myself as an artist, and would limit the effectiveness of my expression to others.
Okay. Great. Fine. NOW...how does that work?
Well, it's involved some good old fashioned experimentation. Playing around. What type of stories do I want to tell, how do I want to tell them? I've written a few different kinds of stories the last few years, and here's the thing: the minor reviews I've gotten and the comments people have given me have all reflected the same thing: it didn't matter if the story had lots of violence and blood, lots of swearing or no swearing, whether it was a thoughtful, atmospheric story or even slightly gross, drug use or lack thereof, chaste or with sexual innuendo...people still got what I was all about: choice, destiny, hope, love, Providence, redemption, internal conflict, doing the horrible and RIGHT thing, two steps forward ten back...and hope. Love.
It didn't matter the vehicle I chose. People GOT IT. People got me and my values, without me ever having to state them all that overtly or explicitly, and THAT, to me: is art. That's what I'm about, not what my work screams in your face...
..but what it whispers in your ear, long after you're done reading. I was paid the highest compliment ever at Context 22, by my publisher when we were discovering how well the different voices of Hiram Grange are meshing, how they were all distinctive, yet coherent. His comment to me, without any spoilers: "You managed to catch Hiram, in all his baggage: drug use, sex addictions, self-loathing and self-love, arrogance and disbelief...but you did it elegantly."
I swear, no matter what happens in the future, that'll be my all time favorite compliment for a long while.
Of course, I wasn't expecting to cross the "sex scene" bridge so soon. Innuendo, sure. But sex?
Whoa.
I was retooling my MA thesis in my head. Moving characters around into different spots, and enlarging some roles, until I suddenly realized...I need to write a sex scene. Maybe more than one.
Uh.
Oh.
It's just what the story requires to make sense. That's all. So how am I going to approach it?
Like everything else. Like I approached Hiram. With a sense of style. Elegance. Respect, for both the act itself AND the reader. But most of all...
Truth.
And I'm okay with that. Because people will still get what I'm about. In teaching, I often use the phrase: "style is the verbal identity of the writer" (really, I ripped this off my principal, who teaches 12th AP English). Anyway, it means that no matter what I write: a scene of devotional prayer in a church, Holy Communion, or sex between two characters, I'll write it in a unique way that people will recognize as "Kevin Lucia", with MY VOICE, and they'll still get what I'm about.
Okay.
Great.
So, why do I still feel like it's the night before my first high school dance...