Sex sells, apparently. Folks, I have been working my little socks off this week with articles, interviews and writing. Yes finally, after weeks (months!) of planning and stalling and avoiding I have made myself actually write the damned book. I am nearly 20, 000 words done and I'd like to think that I am about a fifth of the way there. If you saw my outline then you would laugh and tell me I'm mad, but I have got the figure of 100, 000 words before Christmas in my head so don't tell me it can't be done. I'm really enjoying writing and I'm very happy with it so far.
So - the sex, then?
I'm getting to that bit. Don't rush me! Now I am reaching the first 'love scene' part of the novel (20, 000 words and this is the first action? Sheesh!). It's a ticklish subject. In the next day I will attempt to write my very first such scene, and I'm a bit nervous. Say it doesn't go well? What if I laugh halfway through? What if he...can't perform? Well my guy IS going to be performing, but we might be performance-adjacent rather than being in the thick of the action. I am really going to have to work on this, but that's ok. I have a cunning plan.
You're just teasing, now
As luck would have it, though, I had an excellent lesson in how well it can be done this week. Zoe Winters, a writer that I have lots of admiration for, has entered the bettersex.com short story competition. Her entry, A Safer Life, is well written, moving and just a slightly bit disturbing. And erotic. Definitely erotic. Go and have a read and then vote. Just don't expect me to live up to those standards. Yet.