Guest post by Sharazade:: Bound by Lust blog tour
Today's guest post (below the book cover) by Sharazade is part of the
Bound by Lust: Romantic Stories of Submission and Sensuality
blog tour. Here's a post by editor Shanna Germain and here's a post by Andrea Dale (I'm the third stop on the tour). I love how thorough Shanna was and am taking notes to apply to my anthology editing (and something that's vital to an anthology; in my humble opinion, you can't just consider each story on its own merit, but each story as it fits with the others you've selected). Definitely worth bookmarking if you edit anthologies. Here's one of the things she looked at balancing: "LOCATIONS: Urban public, rural public, phone sex, workplace, sex toy store, play party, art gallery, bedroom, other parts of the house, backyard, church." Enjoy, and pick up a copy (ebook forthcoming) of Bound by Lust! (My story "The Heart of Chaos," about a public kinky scene in an art gallery, is also in the book.) And, for those who like sexy bondage photos especially, check out the Bound by Lust Tumblr.
Adverbs of Lust by Sharazade
What does one write about to promote a book such as Bound by Lust? The stories in this collection are about sex, love, and bondage—but then everyone’s going to write about those. So I fell back on what my own story is about. Defining the Terms is about sex, love, and bondage, and yet… it isn’t. I mean, those are all there. But they’re not what the story is about. They’re more the plot device, the how-the-“about”-is-achieved, the means to an end.
The story, like many of mine, is about me. Me, and work. Me, and work, and grammar. Anyone who knows me knows how integrally connected I am to work and grammar; not always in healthy ways. The woman in my story works too much. It’s a trap, this busy-ness of business. Work seems so pressing! There are deadlines! And yet she knows it’s not really what she wants. It’s not life, it’s no way to live. It’s just work. Knowing that and stepping away from it are two different things, though, at least for me.
This is where her partner steps in, and where bondage comes in: Sometimes to get a workaholic off the treadmill, you have to pick her up, tie her down, and fuck her—not senseless, but back to her senses.
Right. So where does grammar come in? Well, my heroine is writing up to the deadline about adverbs (adverbials, actually—just a fancy word for adverb phrases). That was a little in-joke I wrote for myself, which I’m now going to explain.
I’ve always been a non-fiction writer by trade and profession, actually, who added in fiction a few years ago. I’d read fiction by the bushel, but given that I hadn’t formally studied the writing of it, I joined some online forums and groups and lists and began to educate myself a bit.
One of the things that surprised me the most was the … OK, “hatred” is too harsh, but … the invective against adverbs. I read posts by people who explained their systems for going through their manuscripts in the editing phrase to remove every adverb. What?! What on earth for? I was totally baffled. It was like hearing fashion designers come out against one of the primary colors or a cook explain why he wouldn’t use vegetables, or something. And it wasn’t just coming from one or two people. There seemed to be whole schools devoted to the elimination of adverbs. Google popular writing tips, if you don’t believe me.
In frustration, I asked a fellow grammar-lover and fiction-writer where this trend had come from. Stephen King, he said. I thought he was being flip—it did seem like the stuff of horror. But no, he meant that literally: from Stephen King, from his (otherwise excellent, if we also skip over the bit about the passive) On Writing. He’s got a whole rant in there: Adverbs, he tells us, are not your friend. Part of the problem is that King doesn’t really understand what adverbs are. I can tell, because he gives us this definition: Adverbs, you will remember from your own version of Business English, are words that modify verbs, adjectives, or other adverbs. They’re the ones that usually end in –ly.
Sorry, but no. I don’t care what you heard in 8th grade, but that’s not true. Adverbs modify verbs (thus the name, right?). Something that modifies an adjective is a modifier. Something that modifies an adverb is usually an intensifier. But let’s get back to a sound definition and to the –ly thing, because that’s what trips people up, it seems.
An adverb modifies a verb—meaning that it adds information that affects the action of the sentence. One type of adverb, a one-word adverb of manner, often ends in –ly, this is true.
King’s beef with the –ly crowd is that some people overuse them with dialogue tags. This reminds King of the type of pun known as a “Tom Swiftie.” Actually, it reminds me of Tom Swifties too, though a key difference is that I love those:
“I refuse to make an agenda,” Tom said listlessly.
“So it all comes to nothing,” said Tom naughtily. “Show no mercy killing the vampire,” said Tom painstakingly.
“Let me get a harness and leash,” Tom said fetchingly.
“I only have diamonds, clubs, and spades,” said Tom heartlessly.
“Orgasms aren't a big deal,” Tom said anticlimactically.
Even those don’t all have to be –ly adverbs, though:
“I never heard of anilingus,” Tom said, tongue-in-cheek.
“Oops! There goes my hat!” said Tom off the top of his head.
But there are far many more types of adverb than just adverbs of manner; and many adverbials that are more than just one word.
Adverbs give information about these things:
• How something is done (badly; with a hammer; by candlelight)
• Why something is done (to hurt me; intentionally; for a nefarious purpose)
• How often something happens (often; daily; once a year)
• Where the action occurs (on the stairs; there; beyond the ridge)
• When the action occurs (now; in the dead of night; in the 16th century)
Those who came to this blog to read about sex and lust and tying people up are probably about ready to beat their heads on the desk. But do you see? Do you see what adverbs have to do with sex and relationships? All of that stuff—how, why, how often, where, when—all of that is an important part of sex. You couldn’t write about human interaction without adverbials (you could barely write at all; by some estimates, adverbial elements comprise about 80% of English sentences).
So as I wrote my story about being tied up and thrown on the bed and forced back into reality, I slipped in my pro-adverb agenda as my own subtle protest. I wasn’t sure anyone would even notice, let alone understand; and then along came this opportunity to bring it out into the open.
Sex is not dirty. Bondage and BDSM are not evil. And neither are adverbs. Continue to write—and to love—truly, madly, deeply.
Sharazade is professional writer, editor, and consultant with more than 20 books published under another name. She divides her time among Asia, Africa, the Middle East, and the U.S. She enjoys stories that are realistic enough that they might have happened and fanciful enough that they might not have. She values communication, adventure, exploration, passion, and love. Her first collection of stories, Transported: Erotic Travel Tales, is published by Fanny Press. Her stories also appear in anthologies with Cleis Press, Sizzler, and the Erotic Literary Salon. Shar blogs sporadically at http://sharazade.fannypress.com and runs 1001 Nights Press, an erotica imprint for authors who embrace adverbs: http://1001nightspress.com.
Adverbs of Lust by Sharazade
What does one write about to promote a book such as Bound by Lust? The stories in this collection are about sex, love, and bondage—but then everyone’s going to write about those. So I fell back on what my own story is about. Defining the Terms is about sex, love, and bondage, and yet… it isn’t. I mean, those are all there. But they’re not what the story is about. They’re more the plot device, the how-the-“about”-is-achieved, the means to an end.
The story, like many of mine, is about me. Me, and work. Me, and work, and grammar. Anyone who knows me knows how integrally connected I am to work and grammar; not always in healthy ways. The woman in my story works too much. It’s a trap, this busy-ness of business. Work seems so pressing! There are deadlines! And yet she knows it’s not really what she wants. It’s not life, it’s no way to live. It’s just work. Knowing that and stepping away from it are two different things, though, at least for me.
This is where her partner steps in, and where bondage comes in: Sometimes to get a workaholic off the treadmill, you have to pick her up, tie her down, and fuck her—not senseless, but back to her senses.
Right. So where does grammar come in? Well, my heroine is writing up to the deadline about adverbs (adverbials, actually—just a fancy word for adverb phrases). That was a little in-joke I wrote for myself, which I’m now going to explain.
I’ve always been a non-fiction writer by trade and profession, actually, who added in fiction a few years ago. I’d read fiction by the bushel, but given that I hadn’t formally studied the writing of it, I joined some online forums and groups and lists and began to educate myself a bit.
One of the things that surprised me the most was the … OK, “hatred” is too harsh, but … the invective against adverbs. I read posts by people who explained their systems for going through their manuscripts in the editing phrase to remove every adverb. What?! What on earth for? I was totally baffled. It was like hearing fashion designers come out against one of the primary colors or a cook explain why he wouldn’t use vegetables, or something. And it wasn’t just coming from one or two people. There seemed to be whole schools devoted to the elimination of adverbs. Google popular writing tips, if you don’t believe me.
In frustration, I asked a fellow grammar-lover and fiction-writer where this trend had come from. Stephen King, he said. I thought he was being flip—it did seem like the stuff of horror. But no, he meant that literally: from Stephen King, from his (otherwise excellent, if we also skip over the bit about the passive) On Writing. He’s got a whole rant in there: Adverbs, he tells us, are not your friend. Part of the problem is that King doesn’t really understand what adverbs are. I can tell, because he gives us this definition: Adverbs, you will remember from your own version of Business English, are words that modify verbs, adjectives, or other adverbs. They’re the ones that usually end in –ly.
Sorry, but no. I don’t care what you heard in 8th grade, but that’s not true. Adverbs modify verbs (thus the name, right?). Something that modifies an adjective is a modifier. Something that modifies an adverb is usually an intensifier. But let’s get back to a sound definition and to the –ly thing, because that’s what trips people up, it seems.
An adverb modifies a verb—meaning that it adds information that affects the action of the sentence. One type of adverb, a one-word adverb of manner, often ends in –ly, this is true.
King’s beef with the –ly crowd is that some people overuse them with dialogue tags. This reminds King of the type of pun known as a “Tom Swiftie.” Actually, it reminds me of Tom Swifties too, though a key difference is that I love those:
“I refuse to make an agenda,” Tom said listlessly.
“So it all comes to nothing,” said Tom naughtily. “Show no mercy killing the vampire,” said Tom painstakingly.
“Let me get a harness and leash,” Tom said fetchingly.
“I only have diamonds, clubs, and spades,” said Tom heartlessly.
“Orgasms aren't a big deal,” Tom said anticlimactically.
Even those don’t all have to be –ly adverbs, though:
“I never heard of anilingus,” Tom said, tongue-in-cheek.
“Oops! There goes my hat!” said Tom off the top of his head.
But there are far many more types of adverb than just adverbs of manner; and many adverbials that are more than just one word.
Adverbs give information about these things:
• How something is done (badly; with a hammer; by candlelight)
• Why something is done (to hurt me; intentionally; for a nefarious purpose)
• How often something happens (often; daily; once a year)
• Where the action occurs (on the stairs; there; beyond the ridge)
• When the action occurs (now; in the dead of night; in the 16th century)
Those who came to this blog to read about sex and lust and tying people up are probably about ready to beat their heads on the desk. But do you see? Do you see what adverbs have to do with sex and relationships? All of that stuff—how, why, how often, where, when—all of that is an important part of sex. You couldn’t write about human interaction without adverbials (you could barely write at all; by some estimates, adverbial elements comprise about 80% of English sentences).
So as I wrote my story about being tied up and thrown on the bed and forced back into reality, I slipped in my pro-adverb agenda as my own subtle protest. I wasn’t sure anyone would even notice, let alone understand; and then along came this opportunity to bring it out into the open.
Sex is not dirty. Bondage and BDSM are not evil. And neither are adverbs. Continue to write—and to love—truly, madly, deeply.
Sharazade is professional writer, editor, and consultant with more than 20 books published under another name. She divides her time among Asia, Africa, the Middle East, and the U.S. She enjoys stories that are realistic enough that they might have happened and fanciful enough that they might not have. She values communication, adventure, exploration, passion, and love. Her first collection of stories, Transported: Erotic Travel Tales, is published by Fanny Press. Her stories also appear in anthologies with Cleis Press, Sizzler, and the Erotic Literary Salon. Shar blogs sporadically at http://sharazade.fannypress.com and runs 1001 Nights Press, an erotica imprint for authors who embrace adverbs: http://1001nightspress.com.
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