Simon Strange's Blog

On Storycrafting: Part 3 - Story Structure (2 of 2)

This is part two of a series dealing with story structure and the rigors of planning a story based on structural choices. For the first half of Part 3 click here.

We've looks at act structures, discussed what we might define as an "act" in and of itself to give us a little freedom to mess around with or own version of act structure and gain a sense of what the structures themselves mean.

Now it's time to forge ahead and discuss what makes those structures come alive and mean something. Namely, the Plot Points.

Between the Act structure and the Plot Points used to hinge those Acts and manage the turns in the story, this composes the skeletal system of the story. The moving parts that everything else, the subplots, through lines, ABC story threads, etc., will make bring to life. The central plot of the story is what we're talking about here, and in the next post we'll call this the A story, so keep that in mind as we go through this.

Plot Points are also called Beats, depending on who is talking about them. The major plot points are the ones that act as thresholds from one act to the next, but there are other beats as well, some classic and some particular to a genre or series--if you want to develop your own unique formula for rapid development of novels unique to your 'brand' then you'll likely develop your own plot points as well. Understanding how to spread these points out and then use the B and C story threads to connect them together is part of how you can plan a novel length and then stick to it. The Four major plot Points There are four major plot points that your book will not function without--at least, not well. There are minor plot points as well, and those are coming up next but these four and the act structure constitute the working core of the story. 

These are the Inciting Incident, the First Plot Point, Midpoint, and Final Plot Point. Each has a different purpose and strength, and they'll be what you use to mark out the sections of your book and the different goals of each of those sections.

The Inciting Incident is the event that launches the story and sends the Protagonist(s) careening toward the first plot point. Writing stories 101, this point, the event the "something" in something happens. You can't have a story without an inciting incident because stories--the ones that sell and that people want to read--all begin with "something happens". If not, then you've got prose with no direction. Even an essay has a version of an inciting incident; you've got to have some reason to be writing, and delivering that reason, hooking the readers' attentions on the subject, is the inciting incident of the essay. This plot point should change something for the protagonist, present them with the need to make a choice that will be inevitable in some way, which will be made at the first plot point. It doesn't have to be the first thing that happens in the story, but it should be close to the beginning of the book. There's an earlier foreshadowing point you can use call "The Disturbance", but until you reach the Inciting Incident everything else is just setup. It continues to be setup until this plot point, and fifty thousand words of setup is boring to read, so get to the point and get to it in good time. 

There's a principle in effect here that trickles all the way down to the planning of individual scenes: "Get to the Point". This means, establish your premise quickly, make the promise to the reader about what kind of journey they're in for. The nature of the inciting incident will set the tone for the entire book, no matter how long or short it is, and by delivering it you are making a promise to the reader--one that will need to be fulfilled by the end of the book. 

In most murder mysteries, for instance, this plot point is the murder itself. In horror it is often the first demonstration of the presence of some terrifying element, though not necessarily the element itself (a mangled body, a strange occult event.) The most important thing to keep in mind is that this plot point should be an event, and the more actionable that event is, the better. In fact I'd go so far as to say that if your inciting incident isn't an actionable event (by which I mean that as a reaction the character must take some action) then you should consider rewriting it. In our ongoing example of the Genie story, the inciting incident would be the proposal to assassinate the senator. 

At this point, the true nature of the plot isn't yet revealed, but it should lead naturally to that revelation. Keep this in mind. Plotting the inciting incident last is often a good way to figure out how to deliver an event or change that lends itself to getting to the first plot point in a compelling and natural way.

The First Plot Point is where the story really begins. The inciting incident leads the character on a course to the first big reveal of the book--wherein we discover the true story, the subject that this book is really about. The first plot point should be delivered in such a way that the character's only possible reaction is to pursue the midpoint, whether they realize they're headed that way or not. This is one of the first places where the real stakes are established, although the stakes are present in the inciting incident as well if possible. Here, there can be no denying the presence of some serious stakes.

James Scott Bell has said (and he probably wasn't the first) that all stakes should be life or death--either physical, psychological, or professional. All characters have a choice at all times; the reason they make the choices they do needs to be compelling and realistic, and the consequences of making the other choice should be so severe to the character that the reader completely understands that the character had to make that decision. Physical death is the easiest--it's a matter of survival. Psychological death requires some good setup, but the consequences essentially mean that the character cannot live with her/himself if they take the 'way out' if there is one. Professional death means the characters way of life is at risk, the essence of how the character defines themselves in the world. If they don't make this choice, they'll never 'work in this town again', or stand to lose everything they have, or lose their career or family. Physical, Psychological, or Professional death. It's an excellent way to evaluate a character's position and the consequences, and to motivate them to make choices. Choices without motivation will seem as though the writer is, again, writing thoughtlessly and indulgently. 

The other element of the first plot point that's necessary in order to be compelling is that this choice commits the character to the story--they cannot turn back after this decision, and some authors call this the first 'point of no return' or 'gate of no return' or some such, for a good reason. 

The choice made at the first plot point also plays best when it is a reaction rather than an intentional choice. Driven by fear, or some other rash emotion in the face of the consequences otherwise, the character is making this decision to try and cope or manage the disaster that took them to this point. That doesn't mean they have to be frantic, just that their hand was forced in some way, and rather that carefully planning a strategy they simply did what they had to do, made the choice they had to make, in the moment. They may not necessarily grasp the consequences of that decision but of course there should be consequences. The graver the better.

In the Genie story, the first plot point would be the moment the main character picks up the lamp, make the choice to give into the temptation.

The Midpoint is so called because it takes place in the middle of the story. It's the turn. From the first plot point to the midpoint, the best, most engaging stories deal with characters struggling, or running (literally or metaphorically) and existing in a state of perpetual reaction and discovery rather than action. They're scrambling to gather information, but the killer is always one step ahead, or the zombie hoard cuts them off at every pass, or the love interest in a romance seems to be more of a hindrance and frustrating element than a true love. The protagonist is resisting until this point. 

JSB, who by now you realize I love, wrote a book I've mentioned before called Write Your Novel from the Middle, which I advocate reading. It's all about the nature of the midpoint moment, and what it's for, and how to use it to great effect. In essence, however, his point is that the character should at this point discover something or reflect on events in such a way that they are changed, galvanized into becoming proactive instead of reactive.

This can happen an infinite number of ways but essentially your character is going to have a realization, a change in outlook, due to the events and information that have been gathered to this point. Here the character is faced with a choice--one that they can actively choose between but which, once made, they cannot go back from. Here you decide what kind of a character you really have. Will the character become self-destructive? Will they try to run when the suddenly have the chance? (If they do, you better have a great idea for how to drag them back into the story kicking and screaming in a way that allows them to still be proactive afterwards). They may discover something germane to the plot, a key bit of evidence that suddenly puts everything in perspective for instance, or something that drastically changes what they thought to be true until this point. The best midpoints assault the character's sense of security and selfhood while hardening their resolve. 

In our Genie example, the midpoint may be the when the main character reflects on the (probably two) wishes he's made so far and their awful consequences, and perhaps even learns that he must let go of his dead family in order to be focused on fixing all the damage that's been caused. This might be initiated by a revisit with the senator, a scene where the MC actually does attempt to finally fulfill his task, only to realize that he too has been manipulated into playing along with the Genie's tricky magic. Does the finish the job, free himself, and focus on dealing with his wishes and their costs? Or does he willfully stand against the cruel push of fate and resolve himself to make things right, or turn the tables on his pursuers?

The Final Plot Point is the last big reveal, the last new information to enter the story. It's the information or encounter that pays off the hard work the characters have done from the midpoint to this one, proactively, and shows them what they have to face in order to resolve the conflict. If you haven't revealed the book's true antagonist until this point, now is the time. In romance, this is often the stark realization of the character's feelings for the hero/heroine. It might be the damning evidence needed to arrest that suspect, or the revelation of a character's true identity. Most importantly, this scene should be telegraphed from act one, foreshadowed and hinted at so that the readers, when they encounter this plot point, don't feel as though it's been thrown in there just to get your characters to the end of the book. 

In our example, perhaps the MC has chosen to fight fate and make things right, maybe with the help of the senator he refused to kill, who has been helping our MC unravel the mystery of the lamp as well as make right the wrongs brought about by his earlier wishes. But at the third plot point, the senator's ongoing pressure on the MC to make his last wish is revealed to be the ploy necessary for the senator to get the lamp back. He's already had his three, and until MC makes his wishes, the lamp can't be retaken. All along, the very reason the senator was set to be assassinated was from the outcome of his own wishes, which turned out to have caused conflict in the middle east. The MC holds the cards here, it seems, but the senator is a powerful and patient man... the MC is headed toward the resolution. Pursued now by his supposed ally and the men-in-black who first contracted him.

With an act structure in mind and these major plot points to help map out the major arc of the story, you've got enough information to take your premise, consider what sort of a structure you want your story to have, and the major plot points that will support that structure. But these plot points give only an overarching guide to where the story goes. How to fill in the spaces between them? With the minor plot points and the support of the B and C stories, which we'll talk about in the next post. 

Exercise time!

Now that you've got an idea for the major plot points, brainstorm variations on each of them for your story. Don't settle on the first thing that comes to mind. For each point, think up at least five or six alternatives. Remember the idea of elevating the concept--that applies to each step of the journey. Plot points aren't the scenes that deliver them, remember, but now is a good time to make some notes about how to deliver those plot points. For now, don't worry too much about how to get from one plot point to the other. There is always a way. Just consider the story itself, the logical but unexpected turns it can take, and what kind of a theme you want the story to have--these major points in the story will be the major lamp posts of that theme.

Crowdfunding via Pubslush���

So, I'm trying out this Pubslush idea. 

If you aren't familiar yet then here's the rundown: You're familiar with KickStarter, IndieGoGo, CrowdFunder and RocketHub, and the differences don't amount to much in operation but there is one particular twist to Pubslush--they handle specifically crowdfunding for literary projects. 

I'm about to re-publish Rune & Claw under a different pen name, one devoted to fantasy and science fiction, and one of the most difficult things about launching a novel is funding the marketing. It takes a lot of constant work and marketing can rack up quite a cost, not to mention the multiple revisions and rounds of editing needed for a full length novel. As I've managed to connect with an editor who believes in the project and is a wonderful human being, what's left is the long marketing campaign ahead to get this book in front of readers.

Why crowdfund it? Imagine that if 5,000 folks contributed $1 to get a digital copy of the book. That's 5,000 readers and enough money to employ real talent to the task of getting the book on the right blogs, in newsletters, even a print ad in LGBT magazines and newspapers.

Wait, why those places?

Here's something you may not know and it's the main reason that I'm working on this project in the first place. In Fantasy and Science Fiction, LGBTQ main characters are unheard of as main, POV characters. I wrote a previous post about this some time ago in April when I first announced that I was moving Adam Saint into mainstream fantasy. I have a fifteen book series planned now, after months of outlining and research, brainstorming, and writing. I wrote a 97k word full length novel that is already going to be, I think, awesome--with an editor it's going to be just fantastic. With money to pay my editor for another round of editing after the next revisions? Adam Saint will be a name that's mentioned in lists that include Harry Dresden and Kate Daniels. 

This is important because to date there are almost no mainstream fantasy and science fiction series that feature an LGBTQ main character, especially those published by the big houses. There are some indie series of varying quality, but they are normally more in the vein of paranormal romance than hard genre fiction, and the short novel length is the king of these books. If you're wondering when the last time is that you picked up a book from the shelf from the Barnes and Noble fantasy/scifi section that had a gay protagonist in it, the answer is once, and only if you read the Last Herald Mage series by Mercedes Lackey. Otherwise the answer is never. We are woefully under represented in fantasy and science fiction, to the point of being nearly non-existent. 

Launching a series in a mainstream genre, especially fantasy and science fiction, could lead to a more open policy on accepting manuscripts with gay leads in them. Right now, it is not an exaggeration to say that agents and editors often will simply refuse to put a book out there with a gay main character (and often even supporting characters). That's slowly changing, but one or two book won't do it, and just writing them isn't enough.

Writing a novel is where the work begins for indie authors, and the work itself is never ending. I will be marketing and promoting Adam Saint for the foreseeable future. If I do it right, and have the resources to do it well, then there is a possibility of proving to agents and editors the value of an LGBT main character in a Fantasy series. 

Pubslush is great for just this kind of thing. you get to gauge interest, raise money for the project, and ideally give a complex project a great leg up in being seen and heard. In my case, just a Dollar gets you a copy of Rune & Claw. If you share, like, retweet the campaign, it'd only take 5,000 $1 contributions to help launch this book series in a big way that may well help see other big series releases into mainstream genre fiction featuring LGBT heroes. 

Crowdfunding via Pubslush

So, I'm trying out this Pubslush idea. 

If you aren't familiar yet then here's the rundown: You're familiar with KickStarter, IndieGoGo, CrowdFunder and RocketHub, and the differences don't amount to much in operation but there is one particular twist to Pubslush--they handle specifically crowdfunding for literary projects. 

I'm about to re-publish Rune & Claw under a different pen name, one devoted to fantasy and science fiction, and one of the most difficult things about launching a novel is funding the marketing. It takes a lot of constant work and marketing can rack up quite a cost, not to mention the multiple revisions and rounds of editing needed for a full length novel. As I've managed to connect with an editor who believes in the project and is a wonderful human being, what's left is the long marketing campaign ahead to get this book in front of readers.

Why crowdfund it? Imagine that if 5,000 folks contributed $1 to get a digital copy of the book. That's 5,000 readers and enough money to employ real talent to the task of getting the book on the right blogs, in newsletters, even a print ad in LGBT magazines and newspapers.

Wait, why those places?

Here's something you may not know and it's the main reason that I'm working on this project in the first place. In Fantasy and Science Fiction, LGBTQ main characters are unheard of as main, POV characters. I wrote a previous post about this some time ago in April when I first announced that I was moving Adam Saint into mainstream fantasy. I have a fifteen book series planned now, after months of outlining and research, brainstorming, and writing. I wrote a 97k word full length novel that is already going to be, I think, awesome--with an editor it's going to be just fantastic. With money to pay my editor for another round of editing after the next revisions? Adam Saint will be a name that's mentioned in lists that include Harry Dresden and Kate Daniels. 

This is important because to date there are almost no mainstream fantasy and science fiction series that feature an LGBTQ main character, especially those published by the big houses. There are some indie series of varying quality, but they are normally more in the vein of paranormal romance than hard genre fiction, and the short novel length is the king of these books. If you're wondering when the last time is that you picked up a book from the shelf from the Barnes and Noble fantasy/scifi section that had a gay protagonist in it, the answer is once, and only if you read the Last Herald Mage series by Mercedes Lackey. Otherwise the answer is never. We are woefully under represented in fantasy and science fiction, to the point of being nearly non-existent. 

Launching a series in a mainstream genre, especially fantasy and science fiction, could lead to a more open policy on accepting manuscripts with gay leads in them. Right now, it is not an exaggeration to say that agents and editors often will simply refuse to put a book out there with a gay main character (and often even supporting characters). That's slowly changing, but one or two book won't do it, and just writing them isn't enough.

Writing a novel is where the work begins for indie authors, and the work itself is never ending. I will be marketing and promoting Adam Saint for the foreseeable future. If I do it right, and have the resources to do it well, then there is a possibility of proving to agents and editors the value of an LGBT main character in a Fantasy series. 

Pubslush is great for just this kind of thing. you get to gauge interest, raise money for the project, and ideally give a complex project a great leg up in being seen and heard. In my case, just a Dollar gets you a copy of Rune & Claw. If you share, like, retweet the campaign, it'd only take 5,000 $1 contributions to help launch this book series in a big way that may well help see other big series releases into mainstream genre fiction featuring LGBT heroes.  Check out My
Pubslush Campaign

Hooray for Marriage Equality!

Well folks, it finally happened. How long it will last is perhaps still questionable, but the fact that it happened at all is at once heartwarming, inspiring, almost terrifying, and surreal.

Any two adults of legal marrying age in the United States may now get married. Two men, two women, a man and a woman, a transgendered or gender fluid person--marriage equality isn't just about gay folks. 

And of course, in the aftermath, there are many opinions. If you don't know--and, if you didn't you probably wouldn't be reading this post, I think--not all of the Justices of the SCOTUS agreed on the decision. This is an unusual blog post for me anyway, so I won't spend much time on it--but I did see one thing that really stuck out.

Picking through all the interesting fallout from the Victory today, I heard about this bit from Justice Alito on NPR: "I assume that those who cling to old beliefs will be able to whisper their thoughts in the recesses of their homes, but if they repeat those views in public, they will risk being labeled as bigots and treated as such by governments, employers, and schools."

.............Bigot is a noun that means "a person who is intolerant toward those holding different opinions."

It's a tough one. The LGBT community has had this term turned on them often enough by the christian and conservative majority, suggesting that by asking for the equal right to marry we are ourselves being bigots, intolerant of the christian (etc.) viewpoint on the matter. That's a little difficult to swallow (har har) given that the spirit of bigotry is normally a matter of exclusion and superiority rather than equality.

But let me highlight a critical element to religion, one shared by (almost) all major ones. That element you could call supremacy, or even primacy--the fundamental, indoctrinated opinion that one's religion is The Religion. The Right Religion. The Abrahamic religions, of course, all hold this clause, and in a certain light even some sects of Buddhism hold to a version of "Religious Exclusivism." Those religions that do hold a belief such as "those who don't accept (blank) as their savior go to (bad-place)" or some variation of it, are inherently bigoted. That's just a fact based on what we call that--the word we created to give a name to something that was, conceptually, important to us as human beings, as a universal negative. No one uses that word in a positive context. Most people believe it doesn't apply to them.

So yes. Those who 'whisper in their own homes' about how unfair it is that gays can now get married just like they can are in fact bigoted. That opinion is one that sets themselves as higher than (not equal to) other folks and casts aspersions on the opinion of equality. Now, of course everyone has the right, in this country, to free speech. So, you can be a bigot, publicly, loudly, if you want to. Anyone can. Go you. Be a bigot if you want, that is your (god) given right according to our constitution.

But frankly, if you're a bigot, then society should hold you accountable for it. You should be considered less civilized, less advanced, less evolved, less enlightened. You should be embarrassed to hold that you and your opinions are intolerant of equality, and yeah, your community ought to point that out to you. They also have freedom of speech. You've got the freedom to say whatever you want, be whoever you want, and you know what? You've got the freedom to own the consequences of being a bigot, as well.

If you believe that you deserve happiness and the freedom to be who you are, and to be seen as a real person with rights inherent to your humanity in a civilized world, but that others don't, then you are a bigot whether you believe it or not. Alito's right. People will get labeled bigots. Because they are, and our society needs to stop acting like that's okay.

It's bigotry, sometimes religious, sometimes class related, sometimes racially centered, that is at the root of our social problems and when you can so easily and clearly identify a problem like that, something which poisons a community; which festers and spreads; which causes dis-ease and brings death--we call that a "cancer". If it was in your body, you'd want it cut out, wouldn't you?

Hooray for Marriage Equality!

Well folks, it finally happened. How long it will last is perhaps still questionable, but the fact that it happened at all is at once heartwarming, inspiring, almost terrifying, and surreal.

Any two adults of legal marrying age in the United States may now get married. Two men, two women, a man and a woman, a transgendered or gender fluid person--marriage equality isn't just about gay folks. 

And of course, in the aftermath, there are many opinions. If you don't know--and, if you didn't you probably wouldn't be reading this post, I think--not all of the Justices of the SCOTUS agreed on the decision. This is an unusual blog post for me anyway, so I won't spend much time on it--but I did see one thing that really stuck out. Picking through all the interesting fallout from the Victory today, I heard about this bit from Justice Alito on NPR: "I assume that those who cling to old beliefs will be able to whisper their thoughts in the recesses of their homes, but if they repeat those views in public, they will risk being labeled as bigots and treated as such by governments, employers, and schools."

.............Bigot is a noun that means "a person who is intolerant toward those holding different opinions."

It's a tough one. The LGBT community has had this term turned on them often enough by the christian and conservative majority, suggesting that by asking for the equal right to marry we are ourselves being bigots, intolerant of the christian (etc.) viewpoint on the matter. That's a little difficult to swallow (har har) given that the spirit of bigotry is normally a matter of exclusion and superiority rather than equality.

But let me highlight a critical element to religion, one shared by (almost) all major ones. That element you could call supremacy, or even primacy--the fundamental, indoctrinated opinion that one's religion is The Religion. The Right Religion. The Abrahamic religions, of course, all hold this clause, and in a certain light even some sects of Buddhism hold to a version of "Religious Exclusivism." Those religions that do hold a belief such as "those who don't accept (blank) as their savior go to (bad-place)" or some variation of it, are inherently bigoted. That's just a fact based on what we call that--the word we created to give a name to something that was, conceptually, important to us as human beings, as a universal negative. No one uses that word in a positive context. Most people believe it doesn't apply to them.

So yes. Those who 'whisper in their own homes' about how unfair it is that gays can now get married just like they can are in fact bigoted. That opinion is one that sets themselves as higher than (not equal to) other folks and casts aspersions on the opinion of equality. Now, of course everyone has the right, in this country, to free speech. So, you can be a bigot, publicly, loudly, if you want to. Anyone can. Go you. Be a bigot if you want, that is your (god) given right according to our constitution.

But frankly, if you're a bigot, then society should hold you accountable for it. You should be considered less civilized, less advanced, less evolved, less enlightened. You should be embarrassed to hold that you and your opinions are intolerant of equality, and yeah, your community ought to point that out to you. They also have freedom of speech. You've got the freedom to say whatever you want, be whoever you want, and you know what? You've got the freedom to own the consequences of being a bigot, as well.

If you believe that you deserve happiness and the freedom to be who you are, and to be seen as a real person with rights inherent to your humanity in a civilized world, but that others don't, then you are a bigot whether you believe it or not. Alito's right. People will get labeled bigots. Because they are, and our society needs to stop acting like that's okay.

It's bigotry, sometimes religious, sometimes class related, sometimes racially centered, that is at the root of our social problems and when you can so easily and clearly identify a problem like that, something which poisons a community; which festers and spreads; which causes dis-ease and brings death--we call that a "cancer". If it was in your body, you'd want it cut out, wouldn't you?

On Storycraft: Part 3 - Story Structure (Part 1 of 2)

Ah, story structure. The architectural design of your story. Whether you plot and outline or write organically, you can't ignore this aspect of development. Well, you can... but it's going to make your story seem poorly paced, either rushing forward too fast or slogging along and never really getting anywhere. Story structure provides a general guideline for several aspects to a good story and deciding on it early on is a good idea. But what exactly is 'structure' in a story, and how do you keep it from 'killing your creativity' or 'stifling your art'? 

To the first part of that question: Story Structure is the skeleton of your story onto which you graft all the muscles, hang all the organs, and wrap all the nerves and arteries. Abstract, huh? You should see some of the other similes I've come across. Try this: Story Structure is the platform and strategy which allows you to deliver your story in an ordered fashion (not necessarily in order, mind you) that optimizes the reader's investment, empathy, and sense of expectation to keep them engaged and lead them from point A to point Z under your careful guidance. 

With a solid structure in place, you have control not just over your story, but over the reader. For all those out there who eschew story structure as the tool of hacks and n00bs, think on that for a moment. I combed the internets for any reference to a book or author who claimed to entirely lack structure and found this many: 0. (if you know of one, comment below, I'd love to take a look). Now, this would seem like 'writing 101' or even '100'; how can you write a story that doesn't have structure in the first place?

Well, you can't. Not if you can call it a story. At bare minimum you've got to have beginning, middle, and end, right? The penultimate structural template. Unless the point of your story is to force the reader to ask a critical question... and then leave them to contemplate the answer on their own. In that case you have a beginning, a middle, and a place where it stops. I actually saw a play recently called 'Our Country's Good' which seemed to me to use this... technique, we'll call it. It's a great play, but it ends at the end of the second act (story-wise, not stage-wise.) A great claim is made that the play is not Aristotelian in it's structure and that kind of holds up--but there is your classic inciting incident, development following because of that, and a final consequence. In this case, the consequences, however, are up for debate--the third act effectively happens in the minds of the Audience afterward. It was a pretty wildly famous play, too; so think on that. It's a big risk, though, and a book is not a play, nor visa versa. 

But, although virtually all (professional, paid) writers will agree that these three bits are necessary to a story, there's a lot of argument about what are called 'Acts'--the distinct phases of a story. There's also a lot of confusion between what are 'acts' and what are 'beats', because they are not the same, and have very different uses and purposes in a story. One is a hammer, the other a screwdriver, and your metaphorical house is going to kill someone if you get them confused.
Three Acts: The Darling Arguably the most popular structure, Three acts reflects nearly everything about life--beginning, middle, end. We wake up, live our day, go to sleep. Breakfast, lunch, dinner; we're born, we live, we die. The sun rises, arcs over the sky, and sets. The moon does the same thing. (There's a seven act analogy in there, that's later though, stay with me.) This Act structure (again, different that beats) is classic, well known, and reflected in every single story ever told. Even if the end is disappointing or unresolved, there's still an end.  

The three acts of this structure are broken into their very widest parts--Setup, Confrontation, Resolution. They go by lots of other names as well, but those are the ones you're likely to run into again and again, and they describe them pretty well. In act one you introduce the protagonist(s) and hurl them into the conflict of the story, in the second act you build that conflict and have your protagonist confront it (with beats which I mentioned before and will mention again in a moment), and in the third act you resolve the conflict in some way (not always happily--look at The Empire Strikes Back, right?) In this model, the second act is generally the longest, and is where almost all of the important development of the story takes place. Experts have some range of theories as to what the proportion should be, but the most common model seems to be that the first act takes up the first fifth (20%) of the book, the second act lasts until the last quarter (middle 55%) and the third act is in the last quarter (25%). You'll see this a lot in commercial genre fiction, so as a 'formula' to use the term loosely, it does work. Five Acts: The Classic A little after Aristotle claimed the primacy of the Three Act structure, a guy named Horace proposed a Five Act structure as ideal. He didn't invent it, but you could say he wrote it down and popularized it--and believed that a play should have no more or less than Five Acts. Shakespeare agreed and although most of the literature revolves around the Dramatic Arts, a play and a book are not far apart--in one, you put the actors on the stage, and in the other you put them in the reader's head. 

Five acts are classically labeled Exposition, Rising Action, Climax, Falling Action, and Denoument (or sometimes Resolution, Catastrophe, Catharsis... the fifth act is a little like Satan--known by a hundred names.) Like I said, this is most often seen in Dramatic productions rather than books... or is it?

Examined closely, the 'Exposition' is the introduction and set up--the Players are revealed, and a glimpse of what life is like for them initially is demonstrated. This set-up is necessary to show the first change, which leads into the Rising Action--the series of events starting from that first incident and escalating to the climax. Classically, the Main Characters (MCs, I call 'em after this) or protagonists, etc., struggle and generally have things not go their way, until the Climax. 
We're trained to think of the Climax as the final confrontation, the point at which everything comes to a head. In a five act structure, however, the Climax is said to be merely the turning point for the MCs; the point at which things finally begin to go their way (mostly), and which ultimately leads them proactively toward the Falling Action. This fourth act is when the Antagonistic and Protagonistic characters (or forces, good luck with that) collide and the readers or viewers are often caused a final moment of suspense as they wonder what the outcome will be. That outcome is both delivered, its consequences displayed, in the fifth act, or Denoument (or one of a hundred other names--Old Scratch, the Beast... oh, wait, right; not those.)  Other Structures: 7, 9, hell, 11! There are structures with more 'acts' but I'm not going to lay them out. 7 and 9 acts seem to be popular mostly with television, especially television movies, because they allow for commercial breaks and are broken up in such a way that the movie will keep viewers watching after the show breaks for commercial. Yes, you can apply them to a novel but... let's talk about acts themselves instead. (Also good luck finding a real comprehensive resource about what makes a 7 and 9 act structure actually work...) What the heck is an 'Act' anyway? I'm going to offer a somewhat radical opinion here, and you can take it for what it's worth. I'm no James Scott Bell--but I gleaned something that I believe to be fundamentally basic to story theory that for some reason I haven't seen written down anywhere, in large part due to JSB's books. It's the nature of an 'Act'.

An 'Act' in a story is a section of the story which leads to a critical decision or turning point for the MC, after which there is no going back--the decision cannot be unmade, the consequences of the decision must be faced, the change that occurs because of it is permanent and can only be overcome by going through, not around. Whether that's internal or external, that is the essence of an 'Act'. Each portion of the story that shows this journey can be considered an Act, whether you have three, five, seven, nine, or any other number of them. 


Now, in a standard length novel of around four hundred pages or a hundred-thousand words, like it or not you'll most likely end up with three or four acts. What, four acts? Yes--in his book, "Write Your Novel From the Middle", JSB talks about the critical middle point of a novel which he boils down to "The Midpoint Moment." Read the book, it's very good, and it's friggin' three dollars. You don't have an excuse. 


The Midpoint Moment that he talks about is the point at which the MC transitions from being re-active to pro-active, often due to a moment of reflection, an inner confrontation, an external revelation, or some other device which galvanizes him or her (or them) to pursue the goal intentionally. This has the potential to be a "never going back" moment, and if it is, then surprise, your story has four acts. The essence of the story is changed after each act, and if it has changed then you've entered a new act. 

Your epic eight-hundred page fantasy sci-fi extravaganza may have a dozen acts (don't underestimate how little story actually fits into a hundred thousand words; really, three or four acts barely fits, and you come to those critical points faster than you think.) In each act there's a kind of mini-story at play; an introduction, some rising action, some conflict, and a climax that ultimately culminates in the decision the MC makes, from which they cannot return or run away from. How to plan wisely Thinking of Acts in this light allows for something neat when it comes to planning your story. You have the freedom to look at the character's relationship to the story in phases that give you the barest essence of a good story, and a context by which to enter the process of writing each Act--whether you do them in order or not. 

But, you don't need to pick an arbitrary number of acts ahead of time. Instead, think of a beginning, and an end (it's worthwhile to think of an end in terms of "how things are afterward" instead of an event--stories have a way of changing as you write them), and then think of the turning points and decisions that drive a character to that end over the course of the story. Points which force the MC on that journey--not just the decisions mid-act which determine how the act plays out. How many critical decisions and changes are made from which the MC cannot go back?

Let's go back to the example we worked on before, the death row inmate asked to assassinate a senator, who finds a devious genie on the way. Let's rough out an ending and say that ultimately his actions alter the fabric of international relations and (now, wait--do we want a standalone book or a series? Ah hell, let's go all in and plan a three book series) sparks a world war. Kind of a dismal ending. BUT! He won't have killed the senator. No, instead, he's inducted into a secret cabal that has been passing the Genie around for generations...

Great, so, what decisions force him to this point? Well of course initially he'll accept the job (the moment he does, we're in act one, assuming he can't go back--so, we'll say that he makes a choice between life and death right off. And, he's being tracked and monitored to make sure he doesn't try to run. Can't go back from this, so there's our act one.) 

From here he's going to go about the process of making the kill... except, when he gets to the senator's home, where he plans to do the deed, he sees a plain looking oil lamp that seems to call out to him. He has a moment of temptation in which he struggles with whether to pick it up (it's magical, of course, and wants to be used for mayhem) and ultimately fails to resist. The decision to give in, to pick up the lamp, will alter the rest of the story and perhaps once you pick it up your life begins to go very badly until your wishes are spent. Here's act two; after this, we're writing in context to that decision, so act three begins. 

Though our Hero fails to assassinate the senator, he does make off with the lamp, perhaps driven by its magic to take it somewhere and start making wishes. Shenanigans ensue, he encounters the genie, and it presses him to make a wish. We can build to this decision in a million different ways but our Protagonist of course wants one thing more than anything else, doesn't he? He wants his wife and children back--who wouldn't? Whether wishes can bring back the dead (and how they  come back) we can work out later but lets go all monkey's paw for the moment and say he makes this wish after struggling with the idea. Maybe earlier in Act 2 there was an ominous warning of some sort, maybe delivered by the senator's wife as the MC stole the lamp and made his escape. The moment he makes the wish, again, the story is forever altered and the MC is committed to the consequences. Act three ends, act four begins. New context. 

I'm going to stop there for now, and in the next post I'm going to talk about plot points, and how they fit into an act structure, and what the differences between them are. For now, take a look at your story, and start thinking in terms of these big decisions--just for an experiment. All of this is just theory, strategy, and opinion, of course, but try it out as an experiment and see what crops up. You might be surprised! I certainly was.

Exercise time!

Take a look at your story so far. Consider the points above regarding how you want to begin structuring your story. Keep in mind that this isn't yet the entire structure, just the major turns. I recommend planning the midpoint first, then the ending or climax, and lastly the beginning. Then fill in the plot turns from there. Focus on major plot elements--the "A Story" elements. No subplots or character plots just yet, those will come later, and you'll use them to force the character from one plot point to the next.

On Storycraft: Part 3 - Story Structure (Part 1 of 2)

Ah, story structure. The architectural design of your story. Whether you plot and outline or write organically, you can't ignore this aspect of development. Well, you can... but it's going to make your story seem poorly paced, either rushing forward too fast or slogging along and never really getting anywhere. Story structure provides a general guideline for several aspects to a good story and deciding on it early on is a good idea. But what exactly is 'structure' in a story, and how do you keep it from 'killing your creativity' or 'stifling your art'?  To the first part of that question: Story Structure is the skeleton of your story onto which you graft all the muscles, hang all the organs, and wrap all the nerves and arteries. Abstract, huh? You should see some of the other similes I've come across. Try this: Story Structure is the platform and strategy which allows you to deliver your story in an ordered fashion (not necessarily in order, mind you) that optimizes the reader's investment, empathy, and sense of expectation to keep them engaged and lead them from point A to point Z under your careful guidance.  With a solid structure in place, you have control not just over your story, but over the reader. For all those out there who eschew story structure as the tool of hacks and n00bs, think on that for a moment. I combed the internets for any reference to a book or author who claimed to entirely lack structure and found this many: 0. (if you know of one, comment below, I'd love to take a look). Now, this would seem like 'writing 101' or even '100'; how can you write a story that doesn't have structure in the first place? Well, you can't. Not if you can call it a story. At bare minimum you've got to have beginning, middle, and end, right? The penultimate structural template. Unless the point of your story is to force the reader to ask a critical question... and then leave them to contemplate the answer on their own. In that case you have a beginning, a middle, and a place where it stops. I actually saw a play recently called 'Our Country's Good' which seemed to me to use this... technique, we'll call it. It's a great play, but it ends at the end of the second act (story-wise, not stage-wise.) A great claim is made that the play is not Aristotelian in it's structure and that kind of holds up--but there is your classic inciting incident, development following because of that, and a final consequence. In this case, the consequences, however, are up for debate--the third act effectively happens in the minds of the Audience afterward. It was a pretty wildly famous play, too; so think on that. It's a big risk, though, and a book is not a play, nor visa versa.  But, although virtually all (professional, paid) writers will agree that these three bits are necessary to a story, there's a lot of argument about what are called 'Acts'--the distinct phases of a story. There's also a lot of confusion between what are 'acts' and what are 'beats', because they are not the same, and have very different uses and purposes in a story. One is a hammer, the other a screwdriver, and your metaphorical house is going to kill someone if you get them confused. Three Acts: The Darling Arguably the most popular structure, Three acts reflects nearly everything about life--beginning, middle, end. We wake up, live our day, go to sleep. Breakfast, lunch, dinner; we're born, we live, we die. The sun rises, arcs over the sky, and sets. The moon does the same thing. (There's a seven act analogy in there, that's later though, stay with me.) This Act structure (again, different that beats) is classic, well known, and reflected in every single story ever told. Even if the end is disappointing or unresolved, there's still an end.  

The three acts of this structure are broken into their very widest parts--Setup, Confrontation, Resolution. They go by lots of other names as well, but those are the ones you're likely to run into again and again, and they describe them pretty well. In act one you introduce the protagonist(s) and hurl them into the conflict of the story, in the second act you build that conflict and have your protagonist confront it (with beats which I mentioned before and will mention again in a moment), and in the third act you resolve the conflict in some way (not always happily--look at The Empire Strikes Back, right?) In this model, the second act is generally the longest, and is where almost all of the important development of the story takes place. Experts have some range of theories as to what the proportion should be, but the most common model seems to be that the first act takes up the first fifth (20%) of the book, the second act lasts until the last quarter (middle 55%) and the third act is in the last quarter (25%). You'll see this a lot in commercial genre fiction, so as a 'formula' to use the term loosely, it does work. Five Acts: The Classic A little after Aristotle claimed the primacy of the Three Act structure, a guy named Horace proposed a Five Act structure as ideal. He didn't invent it, but you could say he wrote it down and popularized it--and believed that a play should have no more or less than Five Acts. Shakespeare agreed and although most of the literature revolves around the Dramatic Arts, a play and a book are not far apart--in one, you put the actors on the stage, and in the other you put them in the reader's head.  Five acts are classically labeled Exposition, Rising Action, Climax, Falling Action, and Denoument (or sometimes Resolution, Catastrophe, Catharsis... the fifth act is a little like Satan--known by a hundred names.) Like I said, this is most often seen in Dramatic productions rather than books... or is it? Examined closely, the 'Exposition' is the introduction and set up--the Players are revealed, and a glimpse of what life is like for them initially is demonstrated. This set-up is necessary to show the first change, which leads into the Rising Action--the series of events starting from that first incident and escalating to the climax. Classically, the Main Characters (MCs, I call 'em after this) or protagonists, etc., struggle and generally have things not go their way, until the Climax.  Gustav Freytag, upon publishing "Die Technik des Dramas", a seminal examination of western drama. We're trained to think of the Climax as the final confrontation, the point at which everything comes to a head. In a five act structure, however, the Climax is said to be merely the turning point for the MCs; the point at which things finally begin to go their way (mostly), and which ultimately leads them proactively toward the Falling Action. This fourth act is when the Antogistic and Protagonistic characters (or forces, good luck with that) collide and the readers or viewers are often caused a final moment of suspense as they wonder what the outcome will be. That outcome is both delivered, its consequences displayed, in the fifth act, or Denoument (or one of a hundred other names--Old Scratch, the Beast... oh, wait, right; not those.)  Other Structures: 7, 9, hell, 11! There are structures with more 'acts' but I'm not going to lay them out. 7 and 9 acts seem to be popular mostly with television, especially television movies, because they allow for commercial breaks and are broken up in such a way that the movie will keep viewers watching after the show breaks for commercial. Yes, you can apply them to a novel but... let's talk about plot points instead. (Also good luck finding a real comprehensive resource about what makes a 7 and 9 act structure actually work...) What the heck is an 'Act' anyway? I'm going to offer a somewhat radical opinion here, and you can take it for what it's worth. I'm no James Scott Bell--but I gleaned something that I believe to be fundamentally basic to story theory that for some reason I haven't seen written down anywhere, in large part due to JSB's books. It's the nature of an 'Act'. An 'Act' in a story is a section of the story which leads to a critical decision or turning point for the MC, after which there is no going back--the decision cannot be unmade, the consequences of the decision must be faced, the change that occurs because of it is permanent and can only be overcome by going through, not around. Whether that's internal or external, that is the essence of an 'Act'. Each portion of the story that shows this journey can be considered an Act, whether you have three, five, seven, nine, or any other number of them.  Now, in a standard length novel of around four hundred pages or a hundred-thousand words, like it or not you'll most likely end up with three or four acts. What, four acts? Yes--in his book, "Write Your Novel From the Middle", JSB talks about the critical middle point of a novel which he boils down to "The Midpoint Moment." Read the book, it's very good, and it's friggin' three dollars. You don't have an excuse.  The Midpoint Moment that he talks about is the point at which the MC transitions from being re-active to pro-active, often due to a moment of reflection, an inner confrontation, an external revelation, or some other device which galvanizes him or her (or them) to pursue the goal intentionally. This has the potential to be a "never going back" moment, and if it is, then surprise, your story has four acts. The essence of the story is changed after each act, and if it has changed then you've entered a new act.  Your epic eight-hundred page fantasy sci-fi extravaganza may have a dozen acts (don't underestimate how little story actually fits into a hundred thousand words; really, three or four acts barely fits, and you come to those critical points faster than you think.) In each act there's a kind of mini-story at play; an introduction, some rising action, some conflict, and a climax that ultimately culminates in the decision the MC makes, from which they cannot return or run away from. How to plan wisely Thinking of Acts in this light allows for something neat when it comes to planning your story. You have the freedom to look at the character's relationship to the story in phases that give you the barest essence of a good story, and a context by which to enter the process of writing each Act--whether you do them in order or not.  But, you don't need to pick an arbitrary number of acts ahead of time. Instead, think of a beginning, and an end (it's worthwhile to think of an end in terms of "how things are afterward" instead of an event--stories have a way of changing as you write them), and then think of the turning points and decisions that drive a character to that end over the course of the story. Points which force the MC on that journey--not just the decisions mid-act which determine how the act plays out. How many critical decisions and changes are made from which the MC cannot go back? Let's go back to the example we worked on before, the death row inmate asked to assassinate a senator, who finds a devious genie on the way. Let's rough out an ending and say that ultimately his actions alter the fabric of international relations and (now, wait--do we want a standalone book or a series? Ah hell, let's go all in and plan a three book series) sparks a world war. Kind of a dismal ending. BUT! He won't have killed the senator. No, instead, he's inducted into a secret cabal that has been passing the Genie around for generations... Great, so, what decisions force him to this point? Well of course initially he'll accept the job (the moment he does, we're in act one, assuming he can't go back--so, we'll say that he makes a choice between life and death right off. And, he's being tracked and monitored to make sure he doesn't try to run. Can't go back from this, so there's our act one.)  From here he's going to go about the process of making the kill... except, when he gets to the senator's home, where he plans to do the deed, he sees a plain looking oil lamp that seems to call out to him. He has a moment of temptation in which he struggles with whether to pick it up (it's magical, of course, and wants to be used for mayhem) and ultimately fails to resist. The decision to give in, to pick up the lamp, will alter the rest of the story and perhaps once you pick it up your life begins to go very badly until your wishes are spent. Here's act two; after this, we're writing in context to that decision, so act three begins.  Though our Hero fails to assassinate the senator, he does make off with the lamp, perhaps driven by its magic to take it somewhere and start making wishes. Shenanigans ensue, he encounters the genie, and it presses him to make a wish. We can build to this decision in a million different ways but our Protagonist of course wants one thing more than anything else, doesn't he? He wants his wife and children back--who wouldn't? Whether wishes can bring back the dead (and how they  come back) we can work out later but lets go all monkey's paw for the moment and say he makes this wish after struggling with the idea. Maybe earlier in Act 2 there was an ominous warning of some sort, maybe delivered by the senator's wife as the MC stole the lamp and made his escape. The moment he makes the wish, again, the story is forever altered and the MC is committed to the consequences. Act three ends, act four begins. New context.  I'm going to stop there for now, and in the next post I'm going to talk about plot points, and how they fit into an act structure, and what the differences between them are. For now, take a look at your story, and start thinking in terms of these big decisions--just for an experiment. All of this is just theory, strategy, and opinion, of course, but try it out as an experiment and see what crops up. You might be surprised! I certainly was.

New Book! Excerpt below: Tasty Paranormal Menage Romance, mmmm...

Woo hoo! Finally it is ready for final editing and up for pre-order on Amazon! 

The Omega and the Three Bears is about an Omega Wolf named Brent Boydon, who has been viciously abused by his alpha and his pack. He has run away, after doing the unthinkable--stabbing his alpha with a silver knife and stealing a pack jeep in a mad dash across the desert.

When his jeep breaks down, young Brent, starving and dehydrated, comes upon a highway roadhouse full of bears--who historically have no love for wolves--and throws himself on their mercy.

While it may not be enough to save him from the pack in the long run, it at least gains him a reprieve, as the enforcers that are after him don't want a showdown with the mountain of hurt that is a den full of bears. What follows is a steamy entanglement with three in particular as Brent's Omega magic works its way into the hearts of his saviors. 

Though they have his best interests at heart, he hopes, in the end Brent may have to summon the courage and strength to break his mold and save himself. This story has angst, action, some super hot three on one action, and some themes that could potentially trigger anxiety in victims of sexual abuse--so, be warned about that. The stakes in this story are high, and I did not hold back. It is a romance, however--but possibly not in the way most people expect. 

So this book is a short novel, around 40,000 words. It's a length that I like for these little steamy paranormal romances and was the original length of the Adam Saint novel. This particular book represents a vast improvement over that length of story in terms of how I write. I wrote it as almost a kind of preparation for writing the longer full length Adam Saint novels, and I think you'll be able to tell. I have had a blast writing these relationships, and exploring the complexities of the background and culture in my shifters. Below is a super steamy excerpt, so check it out! The book is already up for pre-order, and will be available June 5th.

Below is only one of the seriously graphic scenes in the book. Be forewarned, hardcore mmm/m sex is incoming. This scene has not undergone final editing.

Two bottles of bourbon later, and Jim lounged over a couple of chair, the top half of his shirt unbuttoned. Jessie laid on the bar, propped up on an elbow to give Pike his attention while the big man told us about the time his ‘Pa’ had taken him through his first shift. 

Unlike wolves, it turned out that Bears didn’t shift often at all—when they did, they spent sometimes weeks in animal form, and they were unaffected by the cycle of the moon. While they were still subject to an inability to shift during a full lunar eclipse, it was the angle of the north star that tugged on their need to shift. I was as fascinated by this as by the train wreck that was Pike’s first shift.

After hearing that the first shift often occurs under duress, Pike had, in order to impress his Pa, attempted to trigger the condition by breaking open a hornet’s nest on their trip into the wild. It hadn’t worked, and Pike had begged his Pa for help.

“So he says to me,” Pike said, struggling to keep his voice steady and his face straight, “’Pike, you dumb shit, I ain’t coming near you with a fifty foot pole, you fool! Nearest river’s two miles that way. Better get going, them hornets look angry.’” He rolled his eyes, and chuckled, “I must have got stung fifty times, charging through the woods naked as the day I was born, holding my nuts and dick,” he grabbed himself with both hands, hunched over, “cause wherever else I got stung, I was not gonna get stung there!”

Jim’s laughter boomed through the room, and Jessie nearly fell off the bar. Their laughter was infectious as I watched Pike pantomime protecting his balls while he ran hunched over through the imaginary woods. In a few seconds I couldn’t see straight, filled with enough bourbon to kill a human, and enough warmth and mirth to last me the night.

My face ached from smiling so much. For shifters, stories of the first time we shifted were special; artifacts unique to each of us and intimate. For Pike to share his made me look at him in a different light, and the same was probably true for Jim and Jessie as well. Both men seemed more at ease than I had seen them since I arrived.

“What was your first time like, Brent?” Jessie asked.

My smile melted, and I uncrossed my ankles, recrossed them the other way while I searched my tumbler for more bourbon. “Eh… nothing you all wanna hear right now. Not a wild adventure in dumb-assery like that one,” I waved my glass at Pike, who bowed theatrically to his small audience.

“I do want to know,” Jessie said. “But if it’s too personal—”

“No,” I said, and sighed. “No, it’s… I don’t mind you knowing.”

Pike sat down near me, and tried to look casual although the concern in his eyes was clear, eclipsing the smile that had sparkled there a moment before. Damn it, the mood was just right before. I tried to tell the story as casually as I could.

“I was fifteen,” I said, “and I was with one of the enforcers.”

I didn’t miss Pike and Jessie exchanging looks. 

“Yes,” I answered the unspoken question, “for that. And he got a little… rough. It was the first time my essence came, and I wasn’t expecting it. For bears it apparently just, um… makes it really intense. For wolves, though, it triggers a kind of frenzy. We’re made to take it, you know, but it was still scary.” I swallowed, and checked my glass again for more drink. There was still none there. “Anyway, I panicked, told him to stop but… he probably didn’t hear me, or it just triggered his hunting instinct. No telling. I mean, really, this stuff clouds your mind, you know?”

I was acutely aware of the quiet, intense attention they gave me. “That was pretty much it. I wanted to get away from him and… then every bone was breaking, my insides were churning and on fire, and I started to tear up the dirt and grass under us. It seemed to take forever, my god—nothing was harder than that first one. So, yeah. That was mine.”

“Did he stop?” Pike asked.

I shook my head.

Jim sat up in a chair, dropping his heavy feet to the ground as he did. “You’re better off with us.”

My smile was more forced than I wanted it to be. “I think so, too.”

Pike moved, slow motion in the somber aftermath of my mood-killer confession. When he dipped his head toward me, Jim growled, “Pike, read the room.”

“It’s okay,” I said. I reached for him, curled my fingers in a handful of open shirt and pulled him to me. 

Pike’s kiss was full and enveloping, a suit of armor against the pain of my freshly dug up memories as he took my upper lip between his, an I suckled his lower one. His beard tickled my chin and nose, the smell of whiskey and compassion thick on it. He wanted to eclipse my painful past. Knowing that he wanted to was almost enough to make it happen. 

Bodies shifted. Feet landed heavy on the floor, and then Jessie’s warmth was nearby. Pike pulled away, smiling, and with his fingers he turned my chin toward the younger bear. Jessie’s kiss was sweet and hot, his tongue slipping into me while his hand cupped the back of my head as I leaned back into it. We entangled our mouths, and he pushed the memory of that day further from my mind. 

Jim stood, and walked around behind the chair I sat in. When Jessie let me go, he took my breath with him. Strong hands gripped me by the shoulders and gently urged me to stand. I turned into the giant bear, and he lifted my chin with his fingers. His eyes studied my mouth for a moment, and his hard arm pulled me to him with a great warm hand on the nape of my lower back.
 
His kiss banished the cold darkness of my past like sunlight burning through a stormy sky. Every other thought went with it, and I sighed into him as his tongue parted my lips and filled my mouth, urging me wordlessly to suck. 

I did, lost forever in the act as his other hand caressed my neck and earned a whimper of frightened hunger from me. As his muscle worked against mine, as strong and large as every other part of him, I imagined I might lose myself forever to these men, each of them taking a part of my pain and leaving… what? 

Finding out suddenly terrified me.

Jessie’s hot breath was on my ear then, his whisper tingling over my skin, “It’s okay. Don’t be scared, baby. We’ve got you.”

He kissed my neck as Jim withdrew his tongue only to plunge in again. I moaned around his tongue, and when Pike’s hand took mine, and his mouth closed around a finger, the incoming stimulation became too much for my mind to handle. I slipped into a fugue-like trance, absorbed in the pleasure of my three bears as they devoured me. 

I don’t know who pulled my shirt off, but a moment later it was slipping up and over my head, while other fingers popped the button of my jeans and released the zipper. Jim lifted me while another slid the denim off my legs and relieved my of them, leaving me naked before the three men. 

Two sets of lips kissed my body, two tongues flickered over my skin, two sets of teeth nibbled and nipped, while Jim’s strong hands held my face against his. “You taste like autumn,” he grumbled against my lips, “and clouded sunsets. Too beautiful to exist.”

Jessie and Pike bit each of my cheeks, and someone’s finger probed and massaged my hole—at the same moment, Jim growled as he took my mouth again, scooping my tongue up and massaging it with his own. Our breath mixed and passed from one of us to the other, joining us together, sharing life and survival. I fought to keep still, but when I lost the battle and squirmed he crushed me against his body, aided by the two bears behind me. 

I felt Pike’s beard against the cleft of my globes as fingers pried them apart and he dipped his face into the opening. Cool air made me shiver as he inhaled. I felt his growl buzz through my flesh. “What is that?” 

“The sweetest stuff in the world,” Jessie told him. “Taste it.”

Jim pulled away from my lips and watched my face when Pike’s tongue speared me and hunted for my essence. I jerked against him, unable to keep my body still, and lifted myself onto my toes in an instinct to give the tongue better access. 

“You must like that,” Jim whispered to me, “it makes your face glow like an angel.” He barely licked my lips, tracing them with the tip of his tongue while my eyes rolled and my head swayed on my neck.

Pike’s slick, probing muscle lapped and dove, spreading me open and invading deeper than I would have imagine he could. Each expedition into my depths had me clutching Jim’s shoulders to keep myself upright as my knees shuddered and every lungful of air came with staggered effort. 

Jim’s paw pressed my head to his chest so that I could hear his pounding heart. I became aware of the massive bulk that had filled his jeans and now pressed against my hip and thigh. A new kind of tremble ass through me, and I slid one hand down between us so that I could grip and massage, clawing the tips of my fingers along it until he flexed and swelled under my touch. His arms held me tighter, and rocks tumbled in his chest as he groaned, breathing hard against my hair. 

“I want it,” I murmured into his chest around a strangled gasp as a finger probed and pressed into my hole.

While I fumbled with the buttons of Jim’s shirt, Pike dug into me. His teeth bit hard enough that I cried out in anguished pleasure and tore two of the buttons. 

“Find the hard spot that feels like a walnut,” Jessie urged. 

“Oh, I know,” Pike said just before he attacked. 

Jim had to hold me up as I wailed, and he cut the sound off when his mouth crashed into mine, fierce and commanding. We bit one another’s lips, his mouth receiving my muffled moans as Pike’s finger lit my body up until I was shaking against Jim’s body, my hands desperately trying to release the straining beast in his pants. 
Jessie’s rough hands reached between us and gripped my rigid cock. He squeezed me almost painfully, tight, slow strokes causing a hot trickle of precum to ooze from the tip. As each of Pike’s relentless, expert maneuvers sent blinding pleasure through my body I worried they would spend me too soon. If it were possible; how I could ever come down from the high they’d worked me up to, I didn’t know.

At last, despite the distractions, I got Jim’s zipper down. He gave me no help as I worked his jeans off of his hips. When I had pushed them down far enough, though, his cock sprang free, catching me in the balls hard enough that I flinched. His chuckle transmuted the sharp ache into boiling desire.

It was too thick for my fingers to close around entirely, and I wasn’t the only one that noticed.

“Holy mother of god, Jim,” Jessie breathed. “Where do you keep that thing?”

“In me from now on,” I said, stroking the smooth skin of it, and looked down at Jessie’s wide-eyed face, “same place you’ll keep yours.”

Jessie leaned in an gnawed at my hip, and Pike hit my gland again. Reflex made me grip Jim’s dick tighter, holding onto it like a handle to keep myself upright. Hot liquid gushed from him and spilled over my nuts, and the smell that rose from it fogged my mind over with hunger. 

I pushed him toward the chair behind him, and he obliged, letting my body go so that he could sink into it. I sank to my knees, careful to let Pike follow me, his finger still tapping out an electrifying staccato beat into my prostate. After I worked Jim’s pants the rest of the way to his ankles, I looked up into his face and parted his knees. His eyes were as glossed over as mine must have been, wet with desire, hunger, and anticipation of what would happen when my mouth closed around his weeping cock.

Jessie’s hand released me, but only to reached between my legs from behind and take hold again, milking me slow and sweet. His free hand stroked my spine, gooseflesh spreading from his touch. Pike’s free hand explored my balls and the sensitive flesh between them and my filled pucker.

The only missing piece of my new world was Jim’s towering meat, bobbing in time with his heart, swollen and veined, his foreskin barely covering the great mushroom head. The mouth of it gaped open and gave forth a continuous trickle of clear fluid, and I braced myself on his knee to reach for it and angle it toward me. It was so hard that it barely budged, but I managed to point it at my mouth.

I kept my eyes on his as I milked up from the base of the garden-hose tube, my tongue outstretched to receive his gift. His eyebrows knit together and he puffed a breath out through his opened mouth when a thick spurt of the stuff burst from him and splashed into my mouth. 

Pike struck me again at that same moment, and I was thrust forward. The heavy head of Jim’s cock past my lips and I latched on, sucking the heady, musky fluid down in gulps. His massive club secured by my lips, I reached for his balls and groaned when I felt the heft of them. They were more than a handful; I imagined them full and boiling with his seed, as yet locked away but waiting for me to coax it out of him. 

I groaned around him, trying to focus on the feel of his skin on my tongue, of the taste of him in the back of my throat, and the thickness of the head of his dick; but between Pike’s playful finger and Jessie’s milking I could only float in the sea of sensations. Jim helped by holding my head gently in his hands. His thighs flexed and shivered as he fucked my mouth gently, pushing in only until there was resistance and then pulling out again.
All I needed to do was keep the seal around his cock tight, move my tongue back and forth, and keep my mouth open wide while he used my mouth. 

Pike withdrew from me, leaving a void behind him. Bodies shifted, and he and Jessie began to take turns lapping at my hole. Pikes beard set him apart—but more than that, while he had an invading, conquering way about him, Jessie’s tongue flickered and teased, lighting on my ring and tickling me. 

Jim’s moans had begun to fill the room. Though he was careful not to harm me, his hands grasped me tighter, and his muscles tensed with the effort it took him not to let loose on me. I purred into the head of his cock, and wiggled for the bears behind me, rolling my eyes up to catch a glimpse of Jim’s concentration scrunched face. 

I all but dove forward, holding my breath and taking him down into my stretched throat. It was painful, for a moment, before my body caught up with the minor damage that might have been done. Jim’s sounds changed, though. He gasped, and his fingers dug into my scalp. His knees squeezed me, and the long, staggered moan that escaped him when I began to swallow and bob, massaging all of him with my tongue and throat, threatened to melt my joints. 

When I came up for air, Jim took my face in his hands and lifted, drawing me to him. I swallowed on my way up, feeling the subtle shift of tissues moving as my throat recovered in seconds from the stretching he had done to it. He slipped his arms under my shoulders and held me up as he dipped his head to kiss me. 

“Pretty boy,” he murmured over my lips. 

I nuzzled in his beard while Jessie and Pike’s tongues seemed to fight over which of them could make my pucker quiver more. Jim looked past me and watched them for a moment before he growled, “Somebody needs to fuck this boy.” 

“Please,” I said, “I need it.”

Jim chuckled at something, and I turned to see Pike and Jessie playing paper-rock-scissors. 

Pike won. 

Barely a few seconds later he was naked, his clothes scattered around us. His cock curved up I saw, with a bulbous head that was wider than the rest of him. His was at least as big as Jessie’s, but his foreskin was tighter, and retracted entirely when he was hard. I watched him milk some precum from it and spread it over the head, before he spit in his hand and slicked it enough to get inside me without any trouble. 

There couldn’t have been any at this point. My hole was relaxed, and eager—I swayed my hips as he came close, and spread my knees. Jim’s body was warm against me, and I sank down to give Pike better access and snuggle against the thick pelt over Jim’s chest. He held me close, one hand stroking my hair and the other resting between my shoulder blades.

Pike pressed against my hole, massaging the head of his cock against it until my ass opened to him and swallowed him up. He sank to his balls in one plunge, and made an almost pained cry of ecstasy as he did. “God, Brent,” he said, catching his breath, “how do you feel like that?”

“There’s some kinda magic in his ass,” Jessie said.

I laughed, but it cut off when Pike pulled out to the head and then pounded into me again, deep, his cock brushing against my gland. My body took him in and held him, and I shuddered with every thrust. He hunched against me and snaked an arm around my middle.

Jim watched it all. He watched Pike hump, watched my face as it pinched and twisted, as my jaw worked and I whimpered into his fur. I held onto the base of his cock like a life-preserver.

Pike howled behind me. “Fuck I’m close,” he said, “stroke him. Make him cum with me, little bear.”

Jessie’s grunted, but his hand slipped back around my cock, slick with spit, and he did as Pike commanded. His palm and fingers played over the head of my cock when he stroked up, squeezing tight to make me pop through the ring of his thumb and forefinger each time he stroked down. 

Each tug of his rough hand made me cry out, until I was clutching Jim’s cock and clawing at his chest. His arms tightened around me, his fingers tangled in my hair. I felt the rumble of a growl through his chest, thundering through me. He heaved breaths as though he could feel my pleasure. “Come for us, baby boy,” he muttered into my hair, “come with Pike, let Jessie get you there.”

Pike cock throbbed inside of me. I rammed my hips against him to meet his thrusts. My balls tightened and ached. Jessie’s hand tugged me faster. Pike began to pant, groaning and grunting. His nuts stopped slapping against mine as they pulled close to him. 

At the last moment, when my body tensed, Jessie slowed, twisting his hand over the head of my cock to wring out my orgasm. I cried out, dug my fingers into Jim’s chest. It seemed like I would balance on that edge forever. “Jessie, please,” I whined. 

Pike roared, and sank into my ass to the hilt, his cock gushing. Burning cum fountained into me, filling me as his body thrashed and fucked. I couldn’t hold back. 

“Come, baby,” Jim commanded.

“Come for us,” Jessie crooned.

“Fuck, he’s close,” Pike groaned as my ass tightened around him, my gland swelling.

A keening wail passed through my throat. Jessie jerked me, short and sharp, and Jim gasped as the hand around his cock threatened to squeeze it hard enough to pop. 

Cum shot from me, spattering against the hardwood floor hard enough that we could hear it. I bucked against Pike’s still hard cock, and into Jessie’s hand, and buried my face in Jim’s chest as I cried, tears burning in my eyes. 

“Shh, shh,” Jim soothed me, trailing his fingers back and forth over my spine. “Good boy, Brent… sweet boy. Let it out.”

Jessie continued to tease the head of my dick, and Pike fucked me slow as Jim held me close and let me sob into his fur. 

After the tremors stopped, Jessie let me go. Pike pulled himself out of me with a little reluctance. “Let’s get this boy to bed,” Jim said, “I think he’s spent.”

I shook my head, and pushed myself up on his thighs. “No,” I told him, suddenly smoldering with hunger, “no, I’m not spent. I want the two of you, too.”

That time your Erotic short turned into a Romance Novel...

My method of planning erotic shorts is pretty loose. I set up about five or six plot points, modified from a classic three-act beat structure to fit the often plot-thin, character driven pacing of an erotica piece. Erotica isn't like some other stories, although a three act structure is still there and it still works; and the same ancient rules of character development are still in play, though they have to be executed in record time. With so much trash erotica out there, selling well, there are times when I think I probably put too much effort into mine. Still... a book's a book, and characters are people, too!  But sometimes you've got your plan, your notes, your little storyboard set up, and you get five thousand or eight thousand words in and realize... these people are way to damn real to be in an erotica story. You go back, read over the mess to see how you got there and by the mighty gods of Olympus, what have I done?! Too much world-building, too much back-story, and if you can even call it a real thing, too much character development. Well shit. What was once a ten to fifteen thousand word project can now go two ways--into the 'muse' bucket (it's the place I put all the unfinished stuff you'll never see completed, but I mine it from time to time for gems as though my scrivener directory were a Minecraftian cave system)--or, it can be reoriented to a different purpose.  Yeah, not a lot of pictures of that for a reason. This actually happens to me fairly often. I've been attempting to master this short-form erotica that everyone swears by. If you aren't an erotica author then you may not know (and it is possible the ancient holy order of the erotic masons wouldn't want me saying it) that there is a kind of golden 'zone' for erotica work. Basically, short enough that you can write and edit in about two days--less, if you don't care for editing, which a great many of my ilk don't--and churn them out overtime. Pick a  niche, like Male impregnation, pictured here (popular and irritating because it's all over the place and is my least favorite--and it fucking sneaks into otherwise awesome stories unexpectedly) and write, publish, repeat. Price them at $2.99 because that's kind of like the 'rule', and even if none of them get hundreds and hundreds of borrows and sales, the sheer volume of them will make you money. The trick is to not over think it--and not care too much. Just churn those books out. Make sure they have the right covers and a hot blurb. The reality of independent publishing, my lovelies, when it comes to the short game, is just to get people to pick it up. You get credit for borrows at just 10% of the book, so if the front matter takes up the first 8%, a reader only has to flip one page to get you that credit, even if they never read past that. I have to admit, and you are likely to agree, that it's a sound strategy for making money. If you have a hot cover and blurb, you barely have to write a story at all--borrows often hover around $1.35 a pop, and if you have forty titles out at any given time (accounting for the ones that fall off the back end as they die on the shelf) they only need to individually make about thirty borrows a month to net you over $1600 dollars. Those are single titles that do so-so, excluding bundles that do much better. Now you could be asking, why do I not have forty short erotic titles out then? Make that money, Simon! You should see my initial monthly calendar. I always start with that plan, I just rarely make it there. It happens every damn time. I shoot for eight thousand words of set up, rising action, point of no return, hot sex, and afterglow, but by the time I get to the supposed midpoint it turns out to just be the first plot point. And I hem and haw and think about throwing it out but I already love the main character. So I keep going.  Now, don't get me wrong I've written a few short erotic pieces. They normally cap about ten thousand words, and I am working on getting that number down. Or, maybe I shouldn't. I'm getting great reviews. This is a daily struggle for me, people. I am sometimes just in awe of those authors who are killing it with first draft, barely edited, five thousand word short stories just long enough to rub one out to. "I should be doing that," I say to myself.  If this is what you pictured, see me after class. Enter this current project. One of several I'm juggling, which I shouldn't do, but it was originally entitled "Biker Bear-Back". Isn't it clever? Get it? "Bear"-back... heh, anyway--as you can imagine it involves biker bears doing it raw. Super hot, I love bear-ish men, Mr. S is a sexy-as-hell "wolf" as his kind are called in the increasingly animal-oriented tradition of gay-labeling. I mean do you not get tired of smooth muscle blondes? In the Rune & Claw rewrite (I swear, it really is happening, I'm getting it done, stop hounding me!) (that was mostly to myself, sorry) I might even change Cole up a bit and make him a little older, a little hairier. If I don't strip appearance description out of the work all together, which I might. Point is, the subject of this hot little paranormal erotic short was easy, hot, enticing, sell-able. Ten thousand words was the target. Twenty thousand words later and I wrote my midpoint moment and then put the laptop down, smoked a cigarette, had a glass of wine and said, "Well, fuck."  Why? Why should that bother me? Turns out I wrote a hook, inciting incident, first plot point, pinch point, midpoint... hell it's halfway done. It bothers me because I have friends making a lot of money writing short fiction all the time; I make a living wage, but only just, because it takes me so damn long to write a book. I've started combing even the short stuff a dozen times for errors, adverbs, places where I can write better, etc. This is owed in part to the fact that if I am not writing, I'm reading a book on structural theory, story development, characterization, grammar and word choice, or writing style--or reading fiction with a little notepad so I can extract the skeleton for case study. Nothing can motivate you to write better than the haunting suspicion that you aren't writing well enough.  And that's the root of it. I fucking love to tell stories. I love writing--this is the most fun I've had in my life and after almost thirty-one years it's as though everything was in black and white until this year, when finally it all burst into vibrant, eye-biting technicolor. How could I have ever done anything else? How did I wait so long? Why did I talk myself out of it so many times? I have no fucking clue. I've started calling all of that my preparation period; I was just gathering experience, practicing, and learning.  Now, I'm pleased with how Biker Bear-Back (working title, I'll have to change it now) is turning out. It's given me a way to explore the wolf and bear shifter mythos more (all my shifters operate on the same principles, are part of the same history even if the stories don't directly relate to one another) and play with social aspects of it that I haven't messed with before. It's about an Omega, and I fleshed that out a little bit (there is no impregnation of the omega bit, as that is in my opinion an utter corruption of the concept as drawn from the source material, i.e. wolf packs in nature), and got to tie in some cool native american mythology to the bear shifter origins. Plus it isn't a very traditional romance story at its core, which is going to take some doing to properly classify it, though there is a 'happily ever after' ending to it so I suppose that qualifies. But where did I go wrong when I set out to write a fun story to jerk off to?  Shall coitus occur at ten and five thousand words, or two and twenty thousand? It got me thinking of thresholds. I reviewed the first five thousand words, and I found my answer. When you write erotica, the short form works best when you give a simple, relateable setup that's easy to get into, and then quickly focuses on the dynamics of a situation between archetypal characters. See, the thing about archetypes is that everyone already knows who they are and how they act. That's why they litter the pages of erotic short fiction almost exclusively. You can slip a clever turn in there by having them act contrary to the expectation; but not without some justification and that kicks up your word count, right? It's a hard line to walk successfully. A ton of erotica is badly written for that reason; you've got under ten thousand words to set up some folks, gain interest and empathy, and then get 'em fuckin'.  The writers who put out good work in this genre are more talented than many other authors give them credit for. It's about economy of words, careful calculation, and executing with style and proper pace. And it isn't easy to pack that into so few words. Take that snippet of advice for what it's worth; I'm trying to follow it myself. If you'll excuse me, I have another fifteen thousand words to deliver on this novel. 

Are you having the best sex of your life?

I've been seeing a guy now for a few months, and among the many really wonderful things about this new relationship is that we are literally having the best sex I have ever had in my life. I've had a lot of sex, though mostly with only a handful of people, and there were of course times when I was blown away by what I was experiencing with someone else--but this makes everything before it pale in comparison. And of course because I write--and in particular because I write sex--it got me wondering what exactly about it is so amazing, and how can I take that and turn it into writing better? A quest and quandary ensued.

Sex is vastly complex as an act. I'm not sure there's anything else we engage in as human beings that is more nuanced and layered. It's physical, emotional, maybe even spiritual--there are sub-layers of chemistry and sensory stimulus, vulnerability and fulfillment, head-space, fantasy, context, a person's personal sexual cycle that comes and goes like a tide, and that abstract idea of energetic and spiritual connection and co-mingling of souls that all the poets talk about when they discuss the sacredness of sex. It's huge, and I probably don't even need to highlight the growing list of real live health benefits to having good sex. (But if you want to see them, look here, here, or here.)

So how do you know when you're having good sex, better sex, or the best sex? And how important is it? 

In my opinion, to start from the end and work my way back, having the best sex of your life with your partner is very damn important. I know a surprising number of people for whom this is not that big a deal and if you are one of them then good for you but I think you're missing out. Sex may not be the central keystone of any relationship, but consider this: it is the confluence of pretty much all the other important ingredients--and that makes sex a remarkably accurate litmus test for the whole relationship. 

Let me break that down for you. What are the key ingredients to a good relationship? According to the almighty oracle (Google), you'll quickly find some staples most everyone agrees on:
Communication
Trust
Respect
Understanding
Intimacy
FunUsually sex is on that list as well, and this is a distillation of some more specific things like how to apply those keys to a happy relationship so this list is more demonstrative than substantive. But when you look at those six qualities, you can find expressions of each of them in sex. I've not included the things that are highly subjective and specific to individuals due to culture or social standing (oft cited are things like professional goals, financial stability, agreement on values, etc..)

To have great sex, you have to be able to communicate. It doesn't mean talking dirty--though, you certainly can and I daresay should from time to time--but it does mean making your needs and wants clear, letting your partner know what's good at a given time and what isn't. If you think your partner ought to give you a little finesse in some respect--using their tongue or hands right, giving it to you at the right angle, etc.--then say so! The thing is, this gets dramatically easier the more openly you communicate elsewhere in your relationship. Just like in the rest of your relationship, being dishonest about sex (that is, faking orgasms, saying something feels good when it doesn't, etc.) foments resentment and distance between the two of you.

Having sex is one of the most tangible expressions of trust you can have with a partner. To let someone inside your body, or to be at your most vulnerable, physically, is a big deal. Women probably don't need any convincing of this, but guys: really think about a blowjob for a second--that's your dick between not just two lips, but teeth. We take that kind of trust for granted, but you are ceding a great deal of control in having sex even casually. And the more you and your partner trust one another, the further you can take your exploration. Just look at a hardcore BDSM relationship. Those folks know a depth of trust most couples never need to confront. 

You could probably call respect an aspect of trust, but I think that if you're gauging the health of a relationship as I have been here, then there's a subtle difference. If trust is about giving up some control, then respect is about wielding the control you do have in honor of that trust. It's the agreement to abide by boundaries, while trust is the willingness to move that boundary. 

Understanding is a very abstract term, so I'll give it a more concrete foundation and say that in this context it is observing and learning your partner--their habits, mannerisms, interests, and in sex their responses, erogenous zones, what they like to do and what they don't. Sometimes understanding is miscommunicated as patience by a lot of 'experts' who, I think, possibly haven't read the definition of 'understanding' in a dictionary. Patience is a natural part of respect. Gather knowledge about your partner, and contemplate what it means. Gain understanding of who they are and how they work. If you can't do this, you probably aren't all that interested. 

Intimacy is in a way a culmination of these things, but it also could be called a kind of base level of vulnerability. Intimacy is emotional exposure to another person, your willingness to be your authentic self with them. We wear masks with most of the world most of the time. Even people who claim to 'just be themselves' one hundred percent of the time have to interact with strangers, customers, bosses, family members, maybe politicians or fans, or other people who have a certain expectation that we all too easily seek to meet. There's nothing wrong with this. People who insist on never putting on a mask don't understand social interaction--and they do it anyway. We are as layered with our masks as we are in our own psyche. But we absolutely need intimacy, and your partner should have the privilege of seeing you without any masks on. Take them off a bit at a time, perhaps, but always seek to be more yourself with that person (or people, if your all poly or something). 

Finally fun--it needs little discussion. You have to have fun with your partner, whatever that is to the two of you. If you are unable to have fun with someone, then you shouldn't be with that person, plain and simple. If you can have fun outside of the bedroom, then you will be having fun in the bedroom as well. If you aren't having fun outside the bedroom, I defy you to claim that you are having anywhere near the best sex of your life. 

All these things show up in sex, all at once. Like a great wine, great sex is multi-layered and nuanced, and is operating on all these different levels. In fact, it was that particular thing--having my boyfriend explain to me a little about wine tasting that I didn't know before--that got me thinking about the many facets of relationships as they manifest in sex. Actually it was that, and then the mind-blowing sex we had afterwards.  Pictured Above: My ass, during and after. As my brain started making thoughts again, some of them turned toward just how exactly this was happening. How in thirty-one (almost) years was I having incredible sex like this when my last partner of over five years and I (spoilers: we broke up) had a far longer time to master one another's bodies? 

I thought about how I feel, what I think, what I pay attention to, the quality of 'play' we have, how we talk to one another, how we perform for one another, and tried, in part, to assure myself that the incredible sex we have isn't the reason we're together. It's that good. 

Here's what I realized. Mr. S, as I'll call him (he knows I'm writing this, though--Hi, baby!), and I communicate really well, and constantly. Early on he asked me, specifically, what I wanted him to do. I've asked him as well, and we've both answered that question to degrees of success. There's at least one thing he's asked of me that I might have a hard time delivering on, but overall we know what we want and we're both willing to say it, hear it, and do it. 

We trust one another enough to abandon ourselves to the moment entirely. I have a bit of a submissive streak, and it's only because I trust him like I do that I can be free to let him take me, own me, control my pleasure and use me for his and enjoy it. Likewise, he let's me play, take control, use him for my pleasure. We both take turns and have fun making the other squirm and shiver and moan. 

We respect one another personally and professionally. We respect one another's need for space when warranted, our schedules, our other obligations, and because of that we aren't resentful--and that, I realized at the moment I pondered this, is good advice. The more you respect a person, the less you resent them, and visa versa. And we respect one another's needs in the bedroom, too. Again, that goes hand in hand with trust and communication. He doesn't resent me for sometimes taking a while to get off. 

Speaking of, we have been learning one another constantly. How each of our respective jobs work, the common stuff like what movies and music we each like, what foods we prefer, what we like to read--but also what actions, positions, attitudes, and stimulus feel the best in the bedroom. Recently we had a breakthrough, in fact. I'm very difficult to get off, it takes most people a long time and it even takes me a while. A blowjob is just about out of the question, but there is a way. 

Mr. S had never spent any real time with the prostate before, and early on I told him this was something we'd work on because getting my gland massaged is about the best thing in the world. (In case it isn't obvious yet I am a bottom in a big way.) I showed him first, and then he worked on me a few times and took to it like a duck to water. Explaining how to do it perfectly, though, is hard. It's all internal, and much like a dick they are all shaped a little different, so finding the landmarks of a prostate is exploratory. 

Mr. S has been exploring. When he got the right rhythm, the right pressure, the right angle the other night and then went to work with his mouth along with it, I had one of the most explosive, full body, mind-wiping orgasms I have ever had. 
I recall that there were fewer people watching. Lest you think that technique was all there was involved in that, I'll give you a little insight. While Mr. S was busy below, my heart was busy exploding with a complicated cocktail of respect for his desire to please me, the vulnerability of being so opened to him, and the appreciation for his attention. I could say simply 'love', but that wouldn't cover it. In my mind, I relished the control he had over me in that moment and imagined that I was so entirely his that all choice in the matter was gone for me--that when I came for him (and, in my mind that's what it was, something I did for him and not myself) it would be because it was his will that I do so, and that only he could give me that release. That's a psychologically steep place to be, but it felt incredible to the be there with him.  

Too often in the past I have felt--and, I imagine you may have as well--that getting me off was the only goal, and that it was a burden on my partner. That if I gave up my own control, my partner would bail because it was too much work, they were too tired, too bored, too whatever. Whether that was true or not isn't the point--the point is that I felt that way at all, and I never do with Mr. S.

Intimacy is something that takes time, but we have built ours up very quickly. Or rather, we have quickly shed the things that block it out. Intimacy is more about uncovering than creating. We both have had some rough relationships in the past, and been badly hurt and disappointed. Revealing that to one another honestly, letting our fears out as well as our more exciting, happy, giddy ones, is incredibly important and an exercise in trust for both of us, and for all couples.

The emotional connection that comes with that growing honesty and revelation translates into sex that feels emotionally close and fulfilling. It banishes pretense, and voids the need to hold back something for fear of showing too much. Sex is the time we are most likely to do that, because pleasure weakens your guard. If you have the kind of intimacy that allows you both to drop your guard all together, the pleasure you feel isn't just in your body, but in your heart.

Whether we're reading the New York Times book review over coffee in the morning, not saying a word, or singing to each other at Karaoke, or having a glass of wine over a dinner cooked or paid for, or pretending to be gay dads with my friends' baby, we have fun constantly. I'm starting to think we could have fun getting root canals together. Our sex is relaxed, playful, sometimes funny, never rushed, spontaneous, never a chore (ever), or an obligation. It's something we both look forward to. That's easy to say when the relationship is this new, I realize--but I know for a fact after hearing from other couples who have been together a decade or more that this doesn't always just naturally decline with time. What do they have that other couples don't? They have fun.

I'm having the best sex of my life with Mr. S. What about you and your partner? Sometimes when the sex isn't as great as we'd like it to be, there's a tendency to focus on the sex itself to try and 'spice things up' or relieve the 'boredom'. I've had some wild sex, definitely up there on the edgy, spicy scale, but this is better.  And it's better because of everything else, not just the plain mechanics of it. So if you aren't having incredible, mind-blowing sex with your partner, consider looking at the things that contribute to great sex in unexpected ways. 

And of course, if you're a writer of romance or erotica (or erotic romance especially) then take some advice from all of this for characterization. Both for the interaction and development between two characters, and for the development of intimacy and empathy between your characters and the reader. Writing great developing relationships is something that, for me, takes more planning than the main story arc itself. 

What makes two people fall in love? How do you convey convincingly mind-blowing sex? Surprisingly, not just from well written prose to demonstrate it! It's the build-up that leads to it, it's the story about the characters involved in the act and the empathy your readers feel with their development. It's the intimate knowledge they have of your main character that he was, say, badly abused in the past that makes his submission to the Dom Hero that much hotter and meaningful; and that Dom so much more lovable when we saw the MC admit to his painful past--and then see how your Hero navigates those waters with respect and understanding, and how much fun they both have as a result. 

Have the best sex of your life, right now. Be open and vulnerable, communicate with honesty and fearlessness, commit to an unprecedented level of trust in someone, and allow everything to be a way to have fun. If you can have these things with a partner, then you'll be having the best sex of your life. That's a promise.