A Farewell to the Influences of My Youth

You know the old story:

Girl meets book. Girl reads book. Girl falls in love with book. Girl obsesses over book all through her childhood so when she's a fully grown adult she talks about how the book influenced her entire life.

You could say this happened with me through Harry Potter. Certainly the first three steps happened and part of the last one. I first read the book when I was nine-years-old. It was my first year in a new town, a new home and surrounded by new people. And this was the first time where I need 100% I was going to be stuck with these people. I either had to impress people so I could have fun or struggle through, adapt and survive. At the same time I was also searching for my 'hobby' or my 'calling' since apparently singing, dancing, acting, and art were out.

So when I read Harry Potter for the first time I think something along the lines of 'She stole my idea!' crossed my mind. It basically only took one chapter for me to see the rest of my life laid out before me: I was going to write and I was going to write something as equally awesome if no more so than Harry Potter.

Thus began my relationship with the book that would 'change my life.'

But for all that it shaped my childhood, sitting here now I don't feel like Harry Potter changed my life. It was a big part of it, certainly. But I've grown up. When I was a kid, Harry Potter was a place to escape to because real life and real school was a desolate place. I needed something different. When I was an early teenager, it became a lifeline to other people. It not only helped me create some relationships with new people but new relationships with my family. It also helped shaped the way I felt about the world in much the same way I might guess the Bible does for others. I learned what love, friendship, acceptance and tolerance meant through Harry Potter.

As a young 'adult' the books became a stepping stone. I'd been involved in fanfiction and rps since I was nine, certainly, but it became something more meaningful when I was older. I actually saw writing as something I could and would do for the rest of my life, not just that weird thing I did that validated my choice to be alone a lot of the time. To me writing fan stuff was practice for when I'd really write. It also introduced me to some wonderful people that I still consider friends now.

But even though I was still writing in that universe, my love for Harry Potter tapered off around the time I turned eighteen. The final book had come out about the year before. Harry, Ron, and Hermione finished their term at Hogwarts the summer before I finished High School. In that last year of High School, I said good-bye to all my friends (some in less fun ways than others), broke up with my 'first love' and got into tremendous fights with my parents. The year after that was hell. I 'fell in love' a couple more times, got my heart broken, broke a couple of hearts, fell into bad health, gave up reading as a regular hobby and continued fighting with my parents.

Looking back, of course I can see what led up to it. Looking back, I know that if I treat the memories right that period of my life can be good for me. Looking back, I know no real damage was done.

It still sucked. In fact, that seems like an understatement. Because high school sucks but you get over it. That year or so was horrifying. I did a lot of scrambling and crying. Eventually, I realized, I needed to grow up. Actually grow up. Not mature, but take the next step and become an adult.

The thing is, while I may have been role playing Harry Potter all during this was a release from the horrible stuff surrounding me, I don't feel influenced by Harry Potter at all during that time. It was the writing and the comfort the friends I role played with gave me that helped me survive. I escaped reality often but I didn't escape into somebody else's reality to do it.

I think, in a way, I feel like Harry Potter abandoned me right at the moment where I needed it most. It's for the best, I know this, but that doesn't stop me from feeling hurt. Don't get me wrong, I know this is an inanimate thing with no regard for my personal journey at all. But it doesn't help the timing: Harry Potter dropped off just as I was entering the hardest period of my entire life (so far.) It's this fact that probably makes me much more guarded about my love and affection for the series that started it all. My obsession for reading and writing really can be credited to the series.

But I'd like to think that if it weren't Harry Potter, it would have been something else. Eventually there would have come a catalyst for the fire to be sparked.

I bare no ill will or grudge against Harry Potter. Certainly not anymore. But I can say with finality now that that chapter of my life is over. I am no longer awaiting my letter from Hogwarts, I can't say that I'd turn into a giddy child if I ever went to Harry Potter World, and I'm not trembling with excitement to name my future children after characters in the book. It's never going to happen. It simply wasn't that sort of influence on my life.

Why this suddenly insight now? And if not Harry Potter what thing or things might have that influence on my life?

Well, I'm glad you ask.

Years and years ago when I was about seventeen I stumbled upon a Halo based web comic that I found quite enjoyable. Now for the most part Halo was one of those things I loved and obsessed over, but I really felt was something I shared with my boyfriend of the time. However, I soon realized in breaking up with him that I still enjoyed the game and the universe. The first time I played Halo after breaking up with him was difficult and painful at first, but I eventually got over it.

Five years later, the final pages of this webcomic are starting to get posted. The artist/writer plans on being done before the Halo 4 release. When I made the realization of how much of my life (and I don't mean that in terms of time) has gone by while this comic has gone on I was astounded...

I broke up with my 'first love,' graduated high school, went through my year of hell, grew up, went to college, fell in love, moved out of my parent's house, broke up painfully with friends, got my own place with my boyfriend, and got married.  I went through more while reading this comic and playing Halo than I ever did while reading Harry Potter.

Now, don't worry, that doesn't mean I'll be naming my first born 'Cortana.' But I can say with more conviction how much Halo has influenced me. And I think it was because it was there there during the hard times as well as the good times.

Another good influence is Doctor Who. I think I will always have a soft spot in my heart for Matt Smith's Doctor. He's been here through pretty much the entirety of my relationship with my husband. That, my friends, is a real hard thing to beat. I think I will always remember those days of dragging out computers to a friends house to blast at enemies on video games only to pause it all for an hour while we watched Doctor Who. In our first days in our own condo, Matt Smith's second season started and we invited my family over to watch. We had bow tie noodles and I baked a cake, honoring Elisabeth Sladen (a.k.a. Sarah-Jane Smith) on it.

I think you can pretty much count on one of our kids having Stormaggedon as a middle name.

All these last few years, even with such a strong life partner next to me, have not been wonderful to me. I worked a rather thankless job, my health declined (though nothing serious) and I had a huge falling out with some friends. A lot of these things put me in dark, downward spirals that reminded me of the 'year of hell.' I didn't want to go down those roads but I didn't really know how to pull out either. Harry Potter was actually a sore reminder of these terrible things and Halo and Doctor Who were too close to really happy things to pull me out.

A strange book that fell into my lap at a crucial moment was the third in a series by Ann Aguirre called 'Doubleblind.' I can't recall when I picked up the first book, 'Grimspace.' I think I must have been out of high school and back living with my parents. But at the time it was just a good book and it got lost to me as I struggled on with life. When I read Doubleblind, though, I was sick, scared to go to work, and losing my friends. It was a difficult time.

I read the book and it did not have a happy ending. But I think in a way it allowed me to have a panic attack about something that wasn't real so I could feel some relief. I literally had to call up my mother, though, and cry to her about the book. Shortly after I would insist she read the series... and then forget about them entirely. Just today I finished the last book in the series and a great deal of tension left me. It's nothing major or life changing, but having finished the journey I feel a bit better. To have the contrast between this ending and the one that gave me such a scare when my life was at a low point gives me a lot of hope and peace. Sometimes the little things are more important than the big things.

Then there's the X-Men. Unlike the other examples above, I feel like this chapter is just beginning. This new love and passion came to me rather recently. Again, when things were falling apart with my friends (for those wondering, I've since made up with those friends. We're not as close but we've definitely made peace with each other which is more than I could ever hope for.) X-Men helped me forge a new, strong friendship and give me a focus for creative outlets, strengthening my self-esteem on writing. I'm not sure when I lost it, but I did. Years ago and while it came back in fits and starts, it came back with a roar when I delved into comics.

I feel as if X-Men starts my actual journey into adulthood. Comics gives me something to really talk about with my dad. Going to comic shows is something I'm pretty much doing on a daily basis with my family. I can even share this with my husband. In short, I suspect that comics and X-Men will be something still very special to me when I'm an old woman. I may try to pull off a spandex Emma Frost number when I'm 80 just to gross my grandchildren off because... why the hell not?

Jokes aside though, the things that I expect to still be influencing me as an adult started their life when I was 18-22. During one of the biggest transition periods of my life. For some people, that transition is or starts in high school. I was not one of those people.

For that reason I hung up my witch robes years ago. I only just discovered why, but that tends to be the way things work. Understanding comes later. Perhaps in a decade or two I'll have different ideas on why all these things are important to me.

Right now, I'm just going to enjoy my cape.

Rated S: How I Write Sex

What’s the saying, don’t write anything you’re afraid your mom might read?

Over a year ago I stumbled into writing erotic scenes on a somewhat regular basis. My friends and I were deep in a role playing plot and sometimes (a lot of the time) things would turn hot and heavy and quite often kinky. Usually we’d handle it by drawing the curtains closed, saying it happened, then moving on to the afterglow.

Until one day I suddenly decided to steamroll ahead and write out every erotic detail, immediately posting it up for them to read. The warm response prompted me to do this again and again. As these friends took to calling me ‘S’ more often than my full name, I’d jokingly say these scenes or snippets were ‘rated S.’ So that’s how I got into writing erotica. Fairly simple I suppose.

I even told my family. That I was writing this stuff and that my friends enjoyed it. One of my friends even told me she shared some with some of her other friends. This was something I never once kept hidden or secret. I wasn’t real bashful about it. I often times would be writing these scenes with my boyfriend (now husband) sitting beside me and other times I would let the scenes unfold in real time, sharing them paragraph by paragraph to a live audience.

Maybe it was the power of the internet but I’ve never been embarrassed to have anybody think “Siona writes sex.” It doesn’t make me feel dirty in the slightest. I worry sometimes that I’m not doing it right and I can’t stand having Andrew stare at my screen while I’m actively typing… But handing over the work for other eyes to read I don’t mind. The person can work out for themselves whether they’re comfortable with reading smut. It’s nothing personal to me at that point.

Write what you know…

Of course as a young, horny teenager writer I’d made terrible attempts at writing sex before. People have sex after all and in the world of my stories, characters are people. They’re bound to have sex and I was curious to try. But of course it never worked out real well because I wasn’t comfortable and I was woefully inexperienced (not that I regret waiting in the slightest but that’s a different story). 

Those scraps of writing will likely never see the light of day ever again and that’s just fine with me.

I had to start somewhere though. Making myself write it gave me a springboard to jump off of once I had gained that experience in real life. I feel in a way the sloppy first tries only made what I wrote later better and stronger.

And it wasn’t like I didn’t have something to draw from even before having full out sex. There’s plenty of porn and erotic stories out there to get your hands on, especially with the internet. And who doesn’t have wet dreams and do some heavy petting in high school? It’s just a fact of life, no reason to get squeamish.

Plus I had something that was probably a bit peculiar to most teenagers: a parent I could talk to. Especially while reading the erotic Valley of the Horses my mother made me ask any sexual questions I had the book brought up. I actually was hard pressed to think up too many questions but it opened up a forum of conversation that I would definitely use later. And I think in a way finding yourself quite comfortable discussing details of your parent’s sexual life makes you quite zen with writing fiction sexual encounters.

Finding an excuse to write sex…

I don’t mean this in the ‘sitting at your computer to write sex’ sort of way. But rather the creative ‘plotting out the circumstances that could be an excuse for the characters to have sex.’ 

There are old stand bys like ‘needing to get warm’ or ‘happy birthday!’ Which can seem like flimsy starting points but if written well, a reader might forget the premise. But the point is that sex without an excuse, especially in written porn, isn’t much fun at all. There needs to be a buildup of story and plot, no matter how flimsy they might be. Same with the characters; they need to exist as more than a name but how fleshed out they get is up to the writer.

Of course too much foreplay can be no fun at all. It can drive people crazy. Especially if you’re looking for a quick fix, you don’t want to be sitting there scrolling through pages of material all the while screaming in your head “I just want sex already!” I imagine this could be quite a bit like if a porn movie took way too long to start taking clothes off. Every guy sitting there with her bottle of lotion and box of tissues would be way too impatient and start fast forwarding through the pointless set up.

There’s a happy middle ground somewhere… Normally I’m working with characters readers already know and love in some way. This could help me by letting them be patient to wade through the set up. Or this could hurt me in that they find themselves impatient, raging “I’ve already seen something like this before!” I’d like to think that if you write a story good enough nobody will care how long they have to wait but every once and awhile it’s good to have a quick fix.

And now I’m going to teach sex ed!

Everybody has their own ideas of how the dirty bits ought to be written and what names to use. It’s kind of general consensus that ‘insert penis into vagina’ isn’t sexy in the slightest. It seems too technical and puts me more in mind of sitting in a doctor’s office than down and dirty porn (though I imagine there are several doctor-patient stories out there). On the flip side ‘cock into pussy’ doesn’t do it for me either. It’s nasty and, well, vulgar. I have nothing against the vulgar and in some circumstances the mood might call for those terms… but those likely aren’t going to be scenes I’m reading for a sexual pleasure.

In short, neither of those turn me on so I don’t use them.

There are other equally off putting terms that get used: manhood, love tunnel, dick, cunt, etc. And if you’re Jean Auel ‘spot of Pleasure.’ With a capital P. That one always makes me giggle and she was the first erotica I ever read. So I guess to a certain degree it doesn’t really matter what you call all the part as long as the writing can strum the reader along.

Grocery list sexing!

This is what I call when I start getting on a tangent of: he did this. And then he did this. She responded like this. She did this. He did this in return.

Normally this happens when I stop feeling into it. When I don’t really care about the story anymore, I start to just put them through the motions. Much like you might while having real sex! It basically gets boring and starts sounding more like a list than flowing action. I know I need to get from point A (foreplay) to point B (sexual climax) but I no longer care about the actions.

This is usually when I realize I need to switch things up. I start thinking over things in my head and try to think “what haven’t I done before?” I start pushing my boundaries and try writing something different, possibly even out of my comfort zone or knowledgeable zone. Not all of it is going to work but it definitely shakes things up enough to possibly get me to care some more. And just because it’s sex doesn’t mean characters don’t need other goals than just ‘orgasm.’ What do the characters need and want that drove them to sex? Again sometimes a flimsy excuse is all that’s needed but in some circumstances, deep complicated personal reason could come into play to heighten the whole experience. Not just for the characters but for the reader as well.

In a book called Rhapsody I believe there was a scene of heated but quick passion in a rocky cave that was basically saying ‘good-bye.’ While the sex was rather brief the tension in the characters knowing it might be the last time they see each other built up the scene.

So… he has three hands?

On the flip side is that point where you lose track of what body parts are where… I’ve read fanfics where I couldn’t possibly begin to tell you how to imagine the characters having sex because it seemed like his foot was on one side of the room while his chest was on the bed and his head was on the ceiling. Seriously, writers can lose track of all laws of physics while their characters are banging and they hardly seem to care.

Well I’ll tell you what… I care! I care a lot. I don’t care if it’s a sex scene between a thirteen tentacled monster and a magickal unicorn… the moment I’m counting fourteen tentacles I’m out. Something about it has to make sense and be grounded in reality!

Now at the same time… I can totally lose track of what clothing has come off and what hasn’t. There are also times where I’ve written a girl into a skirt and the next instant I’m shimmying her out of jeans. These little hiccups happen. And while going through the entire undressing stage (or blatantly saying ‘oh, she’s not wearing panties’) isn’t necessary it can be helpful.

This is one of those things that I probably do a lot more of than necessary. In fact I just wrote a story where I didn’t mention the guy’s pants coming all the way off and I cringe every time I go through that section to edit… but I figured it’s easily something people can assume happen. Even if there doesn’t seem to be room in the scene for it, it’s one of those basic things people assume happen during sex.

‘She moaned’ vs “Oh, oh, oooh!”

Reading block after block of text gets boring. It’s also boring to write. I would know; I’m the master of block after identical block of text. It irritates me. It’s easy to get lost in a paragraph that looks just like the paragraph above it. Varying the lengths of paragraphs helps, but so does dialogue.

At the same time too much dialogue makes me roll my eyes. Then again, I’m not big on dirty talk.

It’s all about reaching a sweet spot, I’m sure. And I really try to think ahead of time what kind of characters I’m reading. Is she a screamer? Does he like to say his lover’s name? Do they look each other in the eyes or clasp each other real close? Personalities and circumstances can change this up… But almost every erotic writer has a sort of fingerprint. Every one of their smutty scenes is going to feel just a bit like the others unless they purposefully try to go to a different extreme.

And now for round two…

Let’s be honest here… I never want to go for a second round. For that same reason, I rarely ever want to write more than one sex scene in a single day. There are people out there that can go for a second round. Hey, good for them. They’re not me. It happens.

But porn is not real life. Porn, both visual and written, need to last long enough to give the desired sensual effect. And in some cases this means a round two. Sometimes a round four. Within reason. After all, let’s assume the characters are supposed to be ‘normal’ people, not porn stars. They can’t appear to be lasting an unusually long amount of time.

I also hate throw away lines in soft porn stories of “he gave her six earth shattering orgasms in one night.” It makes me cringe. I’m sure somewhere out there is a person that can have six orgasms in one go, I’ve even heard a couple of personal stories about it happening. But I feel that unless you can tell me specifically where each of those orgasms came from… it just sounds farfetched and I scoff.

I think my record in one go is four for the female. And even that seemed to be pushing it for me. I rarely ever go over two with the male. It just leaves me in a state of disbelief and disbelief isn’t very sexy.

Stopping in the middle

I don’t mean having the characters stop for a glass of sherry before going for round two. That’s quite acceptable. Maybe a short little conversation to fill up the space, keep the plot moving along. That’s perfectly acceptable.

What I hate is when I stop writing in the middle. When I go to write smut I try to make sure I’ve got a few uninterrupted hours to work with. But even doing that I might find myself stuck at a juncture or needing to get up to wrestle my blanket away from the dog. All in all, it’s bound to happen that the momentum in writing gets lost. This happens to me more and more often and I find I’m never a very good judge of whether the scene is working when I go to read through it again. After all, the tension is lost for me. I know it’s going to happen.

Still, the very worst thing to do is to stop completely, walk away for a long period of time, and then come back and finish. At least, that’s what all the books and articles I’ve read have told me.

Sometimes, though, I find this is exactly the very thing I needed to finish up the scene. A day break. Anything longer and I start to feel disgusting with my writing in that piece of work and no longer want to be associate with it. Usual writerly mood swings. I try not to throw any smutty work I’ve done out though. To me that’s a scene I’ll never get to do again. If I try to repeat it I’ll need to do something completely different.

After all, you can’t repeat the sex you had yesterday. If you try it might feel the same but it’s different. Every time.

Afterglow

This could be right away or the morning after, but there needs to be some sort of come down. For the characters and the readers. Whether this is cuddling, sleeping, showering, fighting, what have you, people do things after sex.

In a metaphorical way, sex was two people becoming one now we need to see one becoming two people again. Separate out the two people and put them back in the flow of the world again. The most cliché come down is usually some cuddling, with confessions of love and then sleeping. 

Honestly, I cringe at the thought of not immediately getting up, cleaning, and putting clothes on. But if that doesn’t fit the mood of the story then it doesn’t belong in the afterglow. Simple as that. And considering it’s all make believe we can just imagine all that messiness of sex poofs away into hammer space. 

Virgins, claws and other things

Unless it fits the mood of the story, nobody wants to read about the virgin crying with pain all during intercourse and then being sore and bruised for a week afterwards. This doesn’t add to eroticism and, from what I understand, is not entirely common… And for that matter not every virgin has to have a painful first time at all. The hymen breaks naturally all the time especially for, say, gymnasts or horseback riders. It’s a personal choice on how much or how little this gets addressed.

Then there’s the weird supernatural stuff. I know I get a little wickedly paranoid whenever my fingernails get a little long. I can’t imagine what it’s like with, say, werewolves and their claws and what not. Sometimes things like that get addressed (who doesn’t like a little bleeding in their sex, right?) and sometimes they get romantically over looked. 

I also can’t begin to imagine the anatomy of a human with a mermaid, but it happens. As long as there’s a sense of belief, readers will overlook certain things for the sake of the story and the scene. This is true of everything, not just erotica.

Don’t forget the bun in the oven

Let’s keep in mind that sex equals babies (also STDs). Depending on the mood and genre these may or may not need to be addressed.

YA: Oh god, oh god, oh dear god if you must have sex in a young adult book please cover protection! I personally hate the idea of ‘young adult’ books containing sex and as you can see, I’m not a prude in the slightest. But when I was fifteen and reading, for example, American Girl 2 by Meg Cabot my sister was ten. The entire plot was about a teenage girl feeling like she was being pressured into having sex with her boyfriend on a family vacation. Turned out she was misinterpreting things but since her older sister bought to birth control anyways they went ahead and did it anyways… I was personally appalled because I’d never have led my ten year old sister read that. I didn’t care about the first bit of the plot, it was the fact that they did have sex that bothered me. Now, there were no details, the writer did a ‘curtains close’ sort of deal. But the only thing that kept me from burning the book in protest was that Cabot did include protection as being a large part of the plot. Still, I haven’t read a Cabot book since and would never suggest then for somebody at least older than thirteen.

Realistic fiction: I’ve only read excerpts out of the back of Cosmo magazines, but all of these tend to include a condom. Every time. So what if there magickally is a lone condom in the bedside table, apparently it’s a good idea to always mention putting it on. Unless you’re planning on the female getting pregnant (or, in other cases including male on male, AIDs or other diseases) probably not a bad idea to add a condom in. Or make mention of her pack of birth control in her purse. People expect it and honestly I can’t say exposure to it is a bad idea. We all know kids are getting a hold of these stories anyways, why not inform them while they think they’re just jacking off?

Fantasy: There’s magick! What does it matter!? Unless it does matter to the plot in which case it’s usually best to come up with something… Whether it’s magickal condoms or a shape shifting dragon saying “hey, I only impregnate the people I want to” address it.

SciFi: This works rather the same as fantasy, if it matters address it. If not, who the hell cares? We figure since it’s a world we don’t know in and out and don’t quite understand that it works somehow. As long as you write like you know how it works the reader will believe you.

Fifty Shades of what the fuck are you reading?

I’ve never read smut in first person nor do I write smut in first person. Ever. I don’t believe it can happen, please don’t try to convince me otherwise, and let’s just move on.

But, no seriously, I can’t really judge Fifty Shades of Grey as I haven’t read it. It seems popular among the 30+ women. I wonder how many of them liked Twilight, though, considering Grey started out as a Twilight fanfic… From likeminded people I’ve heard the book sucks. 

Honestly, though, the most reliable source of smut seems to be fanfiction.net. If you’ve read Grey and thought it was fantastic I strongly urge you to search for ‘lemons’ on ff.net in your favorite fandom other than Twilight and see what comes up. Sure, you’ve got to wade through some bad ones but there’s always at least one or two good ones.

As for me, I’ve been trying on and off unsuccessfully to get back into erotica. Both writing my own original characters and writing fanfiction. Still I have to make note that the start of my Rated S streak began in the Harry Potter fandom and I revitalized my ability when I began working on X-Men fanfictions. Clearly fanfics are the smoothest way to transition into smut. I’m much more comfortable with it. After all, the characters are full established ahead of time. People come into the stories already knowing who these people are and I don’t have to string you along for chapters at a time to set up the sex scene. I can write a single scene with sex and call it good. Smut and done.

Then again, I won’t know if same one-shots with original characters would have the same effect because I haven’t done so. I’ve also never successfully completed a chaptered erotic work, either fanfiction or original. So that’s something to dig into trying.

In the meantime, Rated S really, really, really remains a hobby. I mean with writing you really do have to love what you do because the possibility of making it out with enough money to live on is very slim. Apparently erotica is very much the same deal if not more so for me.