I got lucky this time.

And, of course, I’ll leave aside the strong tendency for the mimesis of so-called “m/m” stories…to replicate traditional heterosexist tropes. …”m/m” as a term is sufficiently co-morbid with perhaps I have a special anusism that I saw this controversy as ultimately a commercial one, not one primarily between the forces of repression and liberation. ANYWAY.

What he said, and more of it.

I’ve gotten paid for articles before.  And, like many authors, I’m happy to tell other writers what I think about writing.  After all, who else can understand these ideas.  Not my spouse who–however loving–has not a literary bone in his body.

I write slowly, though, and at the peak of SAD season I don’t have enough neurotransmitters to write even a blog post, usually.  But then I got this idea from conversations with a helpful beta reader.

Romance readers have a different ideas about monogamy than readers in other erotica genres.  Cecilia Tan wrote a really good article on the subject, but I can’t find it right now.  The point was that romance readers aren’t happy with fiction where the main character sleeps around on the person who is clearly their mate.  Cecilia wanted to write a romance series where the main character was not monogamous, and she made it work by having all of the main characters’ lovers be fully realized, sympathetic characters, which made her books end up longer than she expected.

The insight of my beta readers is that monogamy isn’t the key issue.  In fact, back before we could write about actual sex anywhere, let alone romances, sex wasn’t the barrier.  In fact, the difference between sex that is “allowed” can be almost anything, as long as you tell the reader what it is and stick to it.  One device I’ve seen before but detest is that the main character is allowed to have sex with people other than the true love, but only if he/she doesn’t enjoy it.  In gay romance, the character is often quick to offer oral sex, but saves his anal cherry for his true love.  BTW, I’m fairly certain that most actual gay men don’t fret over fidelity as much as female writers seem to think they do.  Feel free to let me know if you’re a counter-example.

This is a very liberating realization, because it gives me the opportunity to put all sorts of interesting things in the plot.  Of course, I can’t do much with the realization yet, but SAD season doesn’t last all that long these years.

Actually, there are very few plots to choose them.  If you want your characters tied up and spanked, how do you get them there?

There’s the capture plot.  I’ve never read the Gor books, but I understand that people who enjoy them do so for the contest of wills between captor and captive (along with the whips and other obvious stuff).

Once the slave is “broken in” (and doesn’t that phrase send shivers through the kinky reader?), how do you keep the kink in the story?  Error and punishment is the next plot.

You’ll notice that we’ve covered the titles of the first two “Beauty” books:  The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty and Beauty’s Punishment.  So what plot is Beauty’s Release? It’s the “how kinky people can live happily ever after in a vanilla world” plot.

There’s nothing wrong with these plots.  I enjoy reading them.  But I’ve gotten bored of writing them.  Plots that involve consent are harder.  And, for the moment, more fun to write.

I’ve had many fascinating conversations with authors and fans; in fact, I have had too many conversations to relate them all.

Last night I had to explain to someone who was unfamiliar with the erotica market why I winced when he said “literary erotica.”  I fumbled at trying to find the right words, until he said, “so it’s the equivalent of someone saying ‘I don’t write science fiction.  I write magical realism.’”

I stood there with my mouth open for a moment before explaining to him that his analogy was the best I’d heard.  Then I wrote it down so I wouldn’t forget.

Oh, and sex scenes. Well, I guess that counts.

Still. Less revelating and more writing.

I’ve noticed before that I never really enjoy discussions about genre. Some people think that genre is interesting to discuss. I’ve never really figured out why. It feels like something people talk about if they don’t have anything else to say.

The two questions about genre did not feel informed or thoughtful. They were irritating.

One person asked me I started out writing cross-genre work, of if I started at one “end” or the other. Another asked me how I approached the erotica writing genre (I answered “with a spear and a net.”).

Why are these questions so annoying?  Fundamentally I don’t write in any genre, “cross” or otherwise.  I write things that I enjoy, and they acquire genre based on who buys the manuscript and how the publisher markets it.  If I think about genre, it’s mostly to be annoyed that I can’t call it “high fantasy,” though I don’t mind the “romance” label because it allows me to find readers.

Do other people feel that way about genre?  Do you think about the subject when you’re writing?  Do you care where other people categorize your writing?

The word for today is pleonasm. I have writers with a bad case of this.

Well, you should just look at the pictures. They are totally not safe for work.

I should have said in my Arisia post that a friend there mentioned to me that her FaceBook feed has become a lot more interesting since she friended me. Just doing my job here.