I don't write pornography and I don't write erotica. Nothing against them. But taste-wise, one is too unchallenging to keep me awake and the other is too bland (which is too challenging to keep me awake). What I do, is look for the struggle between the body and the mind when sex is at its most complicated, and I write about that emotional, mental struggle. Certain characters lend themselves to this. It's like trying to capture that convulsive, involuntary moment during sex and just before the stimulus becomes more than what is bearable and more than what is pleasurable, then weaving that throughout the length of a novel.
It's taken a long time to figure out why I need Sonny to suffer as exquisitely as he does (or Joe McKay or Blair Sandburg, etc.) I'm on a Garret Maggart kick, thanks to D.L. Warner (no, really. Thank you!) I live in my mind and it demands more than the physical and social arenas can give. More than any temporary relief. It demands a fight. Friction and force. 'Wrestling with an angel,' is the phrase that comes to mind. Conflict where the prize is worth more than anything found on earth - and only the mind can do that. Pornography has no such ambition, which is fine sometimes. And erotica (she says sarcastically) seems too timid to meet eye to eye with that violent, involuntary, convulsive...moment, to investigate it and see what it's really made of. I've never found out what it's made of (and my sex scenes still need work) but I did find out where my characters come from. They come from a sexuality that takes a sweeping observation of life, the world, relationships of all kinds and concludes, "That's not enough, I want more." So I make it up.
This is why I have a character who's masculine identity conceals a feminine core. What better way to render him helpless than to force him to feel a woman's climax? (After all, I'm a man in a woman's body so I only know what female orgasms feel like and I don't think men can handle them. Just joking! - no, I'm not.) Okay, the guy in me is joking and the female is dead serious.
In a society, apparently, dominated by what men think is great entertainment, their "hit it and quit it" preference for damsels in distress (look at the books, movies, fairy tales, book covers, posters, from beginning to today, an ocean of women in tears and torn dresses, terrorized, abused, stalked...) or, women of such mythological strength and dominance (all packaged in your choice of shiny black rubber or classic nude) that they might as well be gorgeous men with breasts and vaginas, how else can I give into my sweet tooth for a male who is thrown into danger, dominated and ravished every bit as thoroughly as any damsel - but by another man - without compromising the handsome quality of his masculine appeal? (No, prison movies just don't get it. And before you judge me - you know who you are - I can tell the difference between fantasy and reality just fine, and am not wishing harm on anyone. So take a step back!) Well, I never found a great answer to that, but I'm still working on it.
I know, that paragraph has more problems than a... than something that has lots of problems.
This all reminds me of Garret Maggart (wow, two last names) and his wonderful contribution to the Fangirl Foundation Sugarbowl Fundraiser(I'm 42), which is badly in need of quality contributions, as seen here. Reconvene in 15 minutes. Sentinel fans, talk amongst yourselves. You've already seen this.
ANGEL (That kiss near the end looks premeditated on Richard's part and quite real)
Thank you Garret Maggart, Richard Burgi, Alfnrns, CelestialMoonDragon, Quantum861 and Youtube for those lovely, slashy contributions, which I would pay good money to see in the form of a serious movie (shout out to all you movie and entertainment investors!).
Which brings me to my next point. I came up with a character who comes close to the one I'm interested in, but I had to build an entire world and premise around him to pull it off. No apologies. Years after the fact, I'm still inspired by Sonny. I didn't think I would be. But that's the thing about books and fiction, mental dramatic intimacy vs. graphic intimacy, and mundane heroes vs. fearsome angels. One sits on the surface for but a moment, subject to be replaced by the next stimulus, while the other sinks like rain into soil, deep into the interior of the psyche, becoming a perpetual stimulus and achieving reality that no physical thing can compete with because the characters fill my mornings, afternoons, and nights (shout out to Tally!) long after I've closed the books and no matter who I'm with or who's talking to me. Yes, it's that good. Heaven. And I'm supposed to give this up for a so-called "normal" existence? Normal, by whose standards? Fuck that. If you should be so lucky as to find a sliver of bliss in this world - that isn't hurting anyone - just go with it.
This chat was inspired by:
Time off work,
Demon Under Glass (novel)
D. L. Warner
Garret Maggart (as Joe McKay and Blair Sandburg)
Jason Carter (as Molinar)
Sonny Preyer (my baby)
Every great character I have ever come across, who cannot possibly exist in real life, and therefore cannot be limited by it.
- The Sonny Preyer Chronicles