S.B. Barnes's Blog, page 3

Practicing Pornography Part 1a: Sexual Anticipation

The “will they/won’t they” is a trope staple in pretty much anything featuring a romantic couple. It’s a mainstay of romantic comedies, a lot of TV shows build it into their central premise and scale it to last seasons, and it’s what hooks you on a lead couple in any romance novel. The unspoken contract to the audience is, of course, that they very much will by the end.

So why do we care, if it’s a foregone conclusion? Or rather, how does the author make us care?

Attraction

It’s a simple, basic tenet of writing romance: your leads have to be attracted to each other. Most of the time, this is achieved via physical description. A lot of romance novels have a dual POV set-up which allows both main characters to reflect on the other’s appearance. This allows for plenty of dramatic irony, especially in the love stories where one or both characters struggle with self-image. Traits one character finds repulsive in themselves, the other can reflect on as being intensely attractive. Meanwhile you, the reader, are very aware there is a mutual attraction brewing.

My preference as a writer is single POV, which means that you don’t get the love interest’s side of things until they tell your main character. This can be fun, too, especially if you’re writing something involving a lot of pining. Especially especially if it’s your non-POV character who’s doing the pining; writing from the perspective of someone not taking the hint is very funny. It can be incredibly frustrating to read, but it does make the pay-off satisfying.

It's also not uncommon to read about physical attraction the characters aren’t overtly aware of; in an enemies-to-lovers situation, they will often describe each other’s (conventionally or unconventionally attractive) physical attributes and state how irritating they are, or claim they are unattractive etc. This is also creating dramatic irony: you, the reader, are aware the character is in denial.

Finally, there’s the peak romantic (or, if you’re writing it, the peak demisexual) attraction awakening. Think Mr. Darcy admitting that now he knows Elizabeth, he considers her one of the handsomest women in his acquaintance. Physical attraction that grows out of increased emotional intimacy can also be shown via increased attention to physical details, or via the reframing of a physical attribute that was unattractive at the beginning of the story and has become attractive through repeat exposure.

2. Action

Physical attraction isn’t the be-all and end-all. For me as a writer, I struggle with it because that’s not how I process attraction to other people in general. What I personally find more compelling is how actions cause attraction. There are some pretty big genre conventions out there—the massage scene meant to be stress relief but actually everyone is turned on; the accidental cuddle in a there-was-only-one-bed or a friends-to-lovers-fell-asleep-on-the-couch; the dance at a club because some external pressure made it happen, you catch my drift. There’s also the sub-genre of the imagined action, where your (current) POV character envisions or dreams of doing something sexual to their love interest and then doesn’t.

This is an interesting component to write, because you’re both writing about what is happening (unintentionally sexy massage, accidentally non-platonic cuddling…) but you’re also writing about the more that is happening in the characters’ imaginations. You have to root the sensation of attraction in the body of the character along with the physical reality of what’s happening, while also allowing for the flights of fancy.

Depending on where the characters are on the romance front, actions don’t just have to be accidentally sexy actions. There’s a strong case for acts of service to be very, very sexy because they showcase caring: cooking for someone, taking care of them during illness etc. That then depends on your POV character’s interpretation. Usually, if you’re writing from the POV from the person who is doing the act of service, it’s not that sexual, it’s all about tenderness and protectiveness whereas the POV of the person being taken care of is free to be as thirsty as they like while also being overwhelmed with emotion. (Personally, I think there’s room for some stepping outside the rulebook here. Why not tie in the acts of service POV with extremely sexual thoughts? Especially if you’re going a kinky route, a character could start out with acts of service because of an inciting incident meaning their love interest needs to be taken care of…and then realize they’re extremely into the praise they get in return/the feeling of devotion).

TV shows and movies like to draw out these portions of the will they/won’t they almost to the point of absurdity. If you, like me, have sat through the entirety of a procedural cop show with a will they/won’t they lead, you will know the lengths they go to to prolong this part. And movies, especially romantic comedies, are rarely rated high enough for more than a fade to black sex scene, which usually happens either at the end of the second act before some miscommunication leading to the emotional resolution, or at the very end.

It's a different story with books. Romance novels with a high heat level (aka more than one sex scene that doesn’t fade to black) usually have several sex scenes interspersed throughout the book, meaning that by about the fifty percent marker, you will have gotten at least one sex scene. So how does a romance novel build that level of tension if it has to be snapped so early?

So what do you think? What types of physical attraction do you find most compelling to read about? Any particular scenes or moments that stand out to you?

Practicing Pornography - meditations on reading and writing about sex

This morning, while I was lying in bed and putting off getting up (look, I am eight and a half months pregnant, getting up is hard), I was scrolling through the MM Romance subreddit for recommendations. I ended up ordering something by Marina Vivancos and the thought process in my brain as I did was “oh I really liked her sex scenes”.

Which, I mean. It’s my money and my ten-year-old-Samsung-tablet-I-only-use-as-an-ebook-reader-these-days. Whatever. But it got me thinking about the book recommendation requests I see on that subreddit. There’s a weekly post where people can request specific sex acts/dynamics, but mostly when I see people posting for recommendations, it’s about the romance. “Bi awakening” or “Omegaverse mate rejection” or “Grumpy x sunshine where the sunshine needs therapy”, you catch my drift.

The other day, I saw someone posting on the romance subreddit (general, not limited to MM) about how the categories of erotica and romance have become kind of the same thing, how people used to want “Billionaire playboy falls for deserving housekeeper” but now it’s “Billionaire playboy with a daddy kink falls for deserving housekeeper”. And I got where that reader was coming from, the romance novel market is frankly overwhelming and messy and the way things are categorized makes little sense sometimes (this is a whole other post but imagine it as a coordinate system where the X axis is trope, the Y axis is heat level and the Z axis (for those of you that, like me, were dumb enough to take calculus II in college and have heard of that) is where the book falls on the content-craft scale).

But at the same time, I was kinda like…well, okay, but a lot of us specifically enjoy reading and writing about sex. Not even necessarily in a super horny way, although for sure that’s part of it. Reading and writing sex can just be really cathartic. To me, reading a well-done sex scene captures the feelings of the characters: the anticipation and rising tension in the build, the snap of it breaking, the release of the climax and the satisfaction of the aftermath. It’s just mental and not physical. I’ve always been someone who feels along with the characters I’m reading a lot. When I was twelve and read Wuthering Heights it took me about a day to figure out why I was in such a funk and it was because they were all extremely messed up. It’s no shock to me I enjoy the same thing about sex scenes in books.

And I’ve got to say, the romance market is about the only subgenre that delivers on that front. Reading sex scenes in more “highbrow” novels is often just mystifying to me because so often I’m left wondering why these characters have sex at all given they’re all vaguely disgusted by the mechanics and emotionally stunted about the meaning of it. Not all of course, but some books. There are also not a lot of that kind of novel that actually feature a full explicit sex scene, most fade to black or gloss over the physicality of it.

So with that in mind, over the next few days I’m going to try to put my thoughts about what makes a good sex scene in order, both as a reader and as a writer, on this blog. Not necessarily as a step-by-step how-to guide, because everyone’s different and all that, but as a series of categories to think about while writing and reading, to nail down your preferences as a reader and maybe iron out your weaknesses as a writer.