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Jan. 22nd, 2004 02:52 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kittydesadeNicDorcha: And now back to the genitalia. Which I may just scrap the whole fucking thing and rewrite it so that the sex is just implied and there's no genitalia. God I love to hate writing smut.
Nycteris66: heh
NicDorcha: *sighs* What would you do?
Nycteris66: not sure...
NicDorcha: Gargh. I don't want to use the scientific term, because there's something highly unerotic about the word 'penis.' And I don't want to use 'phallus' because it's all over Kushiel's Dart and I'm now sick of it. And I don't want to use 'cock'... although I may have to in sporadic points, because I've seen King use it.
Nycteris66: I hate 'phallus'
NicDorcha: It sounds like it should mean a dildo, but it doesn't.
Nycteris66: 'cock' might be best since King uses it
I'm serious. I ran into this problem when I dabbled in becoming a romance writer because I thought it would be easier than becoming a writer just from what I knew how to write. And then I realized that I couldn't write sex.
Clinical terms just fail to be erotic, at least for me. Terms like phallus make me thing of marble statues with penises that could serve a creative woman for a dildo. Cock is barely tolerable because at least it can be used for something I will tentatively call artistic grit. Peter, pecker, schlong, and Mr. Happy are right out. And describing anything as a shaft just makes me think of machinery.
The female anatomy suffers a similar fate. I can just barely make myself write 'clit.' Vagina makes me think of a gynecologist, and cold instruments put where cold instruments don't bloody go! Cunt makes me thing of hard-core femininsts, and while it too has the artistic grit flavor, hard-core feminism isn't what I want to be thinking of when I write a scene intended to make the reader sweat and breath faster and think of naughty things. Pussy makes me think of hurried sex in truck-stop bathrooms. Snatch makes me think of the film, any more. And if I ever manage to type the phrase 'velvety sheath of love' or any such similar without laughing maniacally...
Argh. And this is why I hate writing smut. I enjoy every moment of it right until it comes to the actual deed, and then I cower behind the black bar, or the fade out. So, for those of you who were wondering what the hell I was thinking, here is the beginning of the Dark Tower slash. The rest will come when I've determined an appropriate solution. And not at 3 in the morning.
The lure of the forbidden can be very strong, and even though the boy knew better he still approached his mother's lover with every intention of telling the man off. It was a brave act, or it would be if he managed to carry it through. The wizard was known as a formidable man, despite his lack of ironwood guns or commonly accepted honors. If the truth were to be told he terrified the boy, but the wizard's presence and courting of the gunslinger's wife angered the boy as well. Thus the intended confrontation of the day, although when he first entered the wizard's study the man was nowhere to be found.
The boy slumped in the room, wondering what he was going to do with all the courage he'd saved up for this moment.
"Did you want something?"
He jerked, spun around. There didn't seem to be anyone there, and yet that was one of the magician's usual tricks, his usual glams. The boy was careful, and starting to be a little bit afraid. "Show yourself, bondsman."
"Why, I'm right here." And now that the boy had blinked and looked again he did see the man, although he was sure he'd been looking properly before. He'd never had any taste for magic; it required too much of thinking around corners, which he was never good at, and too much of lying and deceit, which he intrinsically loathed.
"So you are." The boy wanted to make an accusation. A thousand words were prepared in his mind to fling at the wizard, all of which were sharp and cutting as long as they remained locked in his ever swelling throat. They never made it out past his lips, though. "And what are you doing here?"
"Why, thanks be to your father's kindness, I live here." Thin, sexless lips pulled back from pointed teeth pointed? No, they weren't pointed, they were normal, albeit a bit cleaner than most.
Nycteris66: heh
NicDorcha: *sighs* What would you do?
Nycteris66: not sure...
NicDorcha: Gargh. I don't want to use the scientific term, because there's something highly unerotic about the word 'penis.' And I don't want to use 'phallus' because it's all over Kushiel's Dart and I'm now sick of it. And I don't want to use 'cock'... although I may have to in sporadic points, because I've seen King use it.
Nycteris66: I hate 'phallus'
NicDorcha: It sounds like it should mean a dildo, but it doesn't.
Nycteris66: 'cock' might be best since King uses it
I'm serious. I ran into this problem when I dabbled in becoming a romance writer because I thought it would be easier than becoming a writer just from what I knew how to write. And then I realized that I couldn't write sex.
Clinical terms just fail to be erotic, at least for me. Terms like phallus make me thing of marble statues with penises that could serve a creative woman for a dildo. Cock is barely tolerable because at least it can be used for something I will tentatively call artistic grit. Peter, pecker, schlong, and Mr. Happy are right out. And describing anything as a shaft just makes me think of machinery.
The female anatomy suffers a similar fate. I can just barely make myself write 'clit.' Vagina makes me think of a gynecologist, and cold instruments put where cold instruments don't bloody go! Cunt makes me thing of hard-core femininsts, and while it too has the artistic grit flavor, hard-core feminism isn't what I want to be thinking of when I write a scene intended to make the reader sweat and breath faster and think of naughty things. Pussy makes me think of hurried sex in truck-stop bathrooms. Snatch makes me think of the film, any more. And if I ever manage to type the phrase 'velvety sheath of love' or any such similar without laughing maniacally...
Argh. And this is why I hate writing smut. I enjoy every moment of it right until it comes to the actual deed, and then I cower behind the black bar, or the fade out. So, for those of you who were wondering what the hell I was thinking, here is the beginning of the Dark Tower slash. The rest will come when I've determined an appropriate solution. And not at 3 in the morning.
The lure of the forbidden can be very strong, and even though the boy knew better he still approached his mother's lover with every intention of telling the man off. It was a brave act, or it would be if he managed to carry it through. The wizard was known as a formidable man, despite his lack of ironwood guns or commonly accepted honors. If the truth were to be told he terrified the boy, but the wizard's presence and courting of the gunslinger's wife angered the boy as well. Thus the intended confrontation of the day, although when he first entered the wizard's study the man was nowhere to be found.
The boy slumped in the room, wondering what he was going to do with all the courage he'd saved up for this moment.
"Did you want something?"
He jerked, spun around. There didn't seem to be anyone there, and yet that was one of the magician's usual tricks, his usual glams. The boy was careful, and starting to be a little bit afraid. "Show yourself, bondsman."
"Why, I'm right here." And now that the boy had blinked and looked again he did see the man, although he was sure he'd been looking properly before. He'd never had any taste for magic; it required too much of thinking around corners, which he was never good at, and too much of lying and deceit, which he intrinsically loathed.
"So you are." The boy wanted to make an accusation. A thousand words were prepared in his mind to fling at the wizard, all of which were sharp and cutting as long as they remained locked in his ever swelling throat. They never made it out past his lips, though. "And what are you doing here?"
"Why, thanks be to your father's kindness, I live here." Thin, sexless lips pulled back from pointed teeth pointed? No, they weren't pointed, they were normal, albeit a bit cleaner than most.
