storytelling

The radiant Robyn Bender sent me this link to a LiveJournal discussion about word choice in sex scenes, by way of the ever observant Rydra Wong. The discussion is specifically about fanfic, but it's relevant to all kinds of fiction.

Yoyotan (the person who wrote this LiveJournal entry) doesn't like it when people use words like cock and fuck in writing sex scenes. He makes a strong statement about it. I find this interesting because I was just posting, a few days ago, about my own hesitation to use the word cock, why I chose to use it, and how that particular word is borderline taboo in the same way that the image of male frontal nudity is borderline taboo in film. In the LJ thread somebody touched on this same idea by coining "That-Which-Shall-Not-Be-Spoken-Of." I sense a new word game on the horizon.

Yoyotan's post got a big response. For example to this statement

I'm sorry if anyone feels insulted.

Ladybirdsleeps replied

Well, then, it's probably a good idea not to call people actually like those words underage virgins who failed sex ed and don't know how to use a thesaurus. Because, yanno, that's kind of insulting.

It's an interesting discussion, but you actually have to follow all the threads to get the full impact. There's a really odd bit where the anti-cock contingent seems to be claiming that a novel which dares to venture into the realm of That-Which-Shall-Not-Be-Spoken-Of can't get published.

> >I think it's great you're trying to get your novel published with all the venacular intact. If you succeed, I think that will be an amazing accomplishment

To which the pro-cock caucus (sorry. who could resist?) responds

>> Are you familiar with, oh, off the top of my head, now: Irvine Welch? James Ellroy?

My sense is that some people read very ... narrowly, but don't even realize it. Which makes this whole discussion not only amusing, but vaguely sad.

Posted by at 4:15 PM | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBacks (0)

Because of a comment somebody left here, I went and googled "writing sex scenes" and found that this weblog came up first. Which surprised me, especially as when I check Technorati (which I do every two weeks or so) it tells me how alone I am in the blogosphere. Just me and my small horde of readers, or so I thought. But there I am at the top of the google list.

I've wondered abut Technorati before, how accurate it might be. Links I know about don't show up. Not that this is important, mind you. What is important: this scene that's stuck in my craw like that chicken bone in Mama Cass's throat. I've spent a good amount of time today trying to get rid of it, but have made only minimal progress.

You know sometimes how you swallow a pill and it feels like it's stuck right there at the top of your chest? You can feel the outline of it from the inside -- and that's not the plan. You are not supposed to feel your insides, especially not the parameters of your insides from the inside, at any time. The exception being advanced pregnancy, when you can't help but notice when the kid punches your kidneys or spleen repeatedly until he or she has a reasonably comfortable pillow.

At any rate, that aspirin or Alleve or whatever (except Tylenol, no Tylenol in this house, ever, because well, we need our livers intact) is sitting in your esophogus announcing its intention to set up housekeeping right there and you can't do anything but notice it. Can't work, can't sleep, nothing. I have consumed a half loaf of stale bread in the hope that it would take the reluctant pill down with it, I have consumed a gallon of water, grapes, grapes smeared in peanut butter (maybe the pill will stick, I was thinking, that's how desperate I was).

My point -- and I do have one -- is that this is how I sometimes feel (as I do today) about a scene that's only halfway where it's going and unwilling to move on and get it over with. Except in this case nothing helps, although I have tried eating vast quantities of chocolate in the hope that words and sentences and whole paragraphs might shift.

So that's the story for today. Back to work.

PS somebody mentioned, in the comments, that I don't always answer questions sent to me by readers. Which is true. Sometimes I don't now the answer, or can't tell you the answer. The same way I can't always answer my daughter's questions, because they are fake I'm-fifteen-and-you're-not questions like do you like torturing me? (really, how can any human being resist the obvious here, except by not answering at all?). So let me say this. If you have asked a question I haven't answered, remember: better you don't know.

Posted by at 3:33 PM | Permalink | TrackBacks (0)