Sex and the Fan Fiction Writer Reloaded

Some other questions:

  • How many stories in fandom contain explicit sex scenes? A few? Many? Most? Why do you think that is the case?
  • How important are sex scenes in genres besides romance?
  • What do you feel is the most important aspect in R- and NC-17 rated stories? Why?
  • What do you think about that?
  • Have you written an R- or NC-17 rated romance story yourself? Why? What was important for you in writing that story?
  • Have you written stories rated lower than R or NC-17? Why? What was important for you in writing that story?
  • Is there a higher demand for R/NC-17 stories than for lower rated stories? Or the other way around? Why do you think that is the case?
  • If you read romance genre fanfic, do you prefer lower or higher rated stories? Why?
  • If you write general, K or K+, PG or PG+13 rated stories, do you get negative comments about the low rating?

Feel free to suggest further questions!

By the way…

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Smut, dat.

So here be answers to the questions appropriated from and posted in the previous post.

1) Of the body of fic that you’ve read during your time in fandom, roughly what percentage includes sex scenes, and how many of those scenes contribute to plot advancement or character development?

Since I read fanfic mostly for fun, I don’t exactly keep track of percentages. 😉 Before I even try to answer this question, I need to explain my reading habits:

  1. I am not interested in gen.
  2. I am not interested in conventional romance

What I go for is fantasy* : romance

*or adventure or mystery or drama…

And if possible, balanced 50 : 50 or at least 60 : 40.

So OF COURSE most of the stories I read contain sex scenes. They’d better!

Concerning plot advancement or character development – actually most stories I’ve read do that.

(Reason: I don’t read bad!fic, so I don’t get to read very many “bad” or pointless sex scenes.)

As a sidenote regarding “pointless”, “plot advancement” and “character development” – a story may contain quite a number of scenes that are not absolutely essential for either “plot advancement” or “character development”. But that doesn’t make them “pointless”. You actually need “breather” scenes to slow down your pace now and again, or to heighten a certain mood.

Actually, the nature of smut in stories is a lot like smut in real life. And probably like your own sex life, too, I guess – or do you only have sex when you’re actively trying to have a child, i.e. when you’re concerned with “plot advancement” in your life? (But of course that’s the striking difference between life and fiction – in fiction, everything must make sense.)

2) If you’re an author, do you ever include sex scenes in your stories? If so (and please be honest), do you always do it strictly to advance your plot? Or do you sometimes do it because it’s what your readers want/expect you to write …

Yes, I am an author.
Yes, I do include sex scenes in my stories.

No, not all of the sex scenes I write advance my plot.

Sometimes, they just fit the mood and they are just there, because the story is about those two persons who love and desire each other, and then those two persons end up doing what two people who love and desire each other do now and again.

Fuck like little bunny wabbits, that is.

If you’re an author, do you ever include toilet scenes in your story? Do your characters ever eat or sleep? And do those scenes always advance your plot?

I LOVE me a tight plot. But if there’s nothing non-essential left to a story, you’re usually looking at a modern literary novel and more often than not that thing will be damn difficult to read.

Basically, I believe that a story meant to entertain needs untidy corners. Scenes that allow me, the reader to simply relax and enjoy. And when I’m reading a story in which one of the main plot lines is the romantic relationship between two characters, then sex scenes in all their variety can be not only vital to the plot, but also simply very enjoyable.

I never write anything because my readers want it or expect it from me.

I write my scenes the way I do because my story requires it of me.

As an aside: I recently read somewhere (forgot where, sorry) a very smart observation on the plot of PWPs. How, even if sex is the only plotline, there IS a plotline. Even if the narrative consists of nothing but the act of sex. Arousal and petting – actual intercourse – the climax – and then the post-climactic afterglow or drifting off. Those ARE plot elements. 😀

3) Do you enjoy writing sex scenes? Or do you struggle for every word …

I enjoy writing erotic scenes very much. And usually they come easily to me. Of course there are exceptions that prove the rule …

4) Do you believe in your heart of hearts that most romantic stories should include sex?

Here I have to quote who posted a splendid and snarky reply to those questions over HERE:

“Do you believe in your heart of hearts that most banquet scenes should include eating?”

If one of the main plots of a story is the development and consummation of a romantic relationship between adults and if this story is aimed at an adult audience, it better had some smut!

5) If you read a story with strong sexual overtones, do you feel cheated if the author does a fade to black? Why or why not?

If I read a story with Strong Sexual Overtones.

If I read a story in which accordingly the sexual, passionate relationship between two characters is supposed to be one of the essential plot elements, and I never get to see more than a chaste kiss … then yes, absolutely, there comes a moment when I can’t suspend my disbelief any longer.

When I will throw the book at the wall.
Or click away and won’t come back.

6) If you’re an author, do you feel a subtle pressure to write smut even if you aren’t really comfortable with it?

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ and Merlin’s purple knickers on a piece of pizza.

If someone bows to peer pressure such as this, they have a problem. And it’s not being uncomfortable writing smut.

concludes her post with some very interesting questions that I am happy to pass along:

Would these same questions [as the ones about sex scenes] be asked about including an eating scene? A birth scene? A battle scene? A death scene? Why or why not?

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Wat Smut?!

Found via :

has and interesting post and some intriguing questions regarding the topic “Sex and the Fanfiction Writer”.

I quote:

1) Of the body of fic that you’ve read during your time in fandom, roughly what percentage includes sex scenes, and how many of those scenes contribute to plot advancement or character development?

2) If you’re an author, do you ever include sex scenes in your stories? If so (and please be honest), do you always do it strictly to advance your plot? Or do you sometimes do it because it’s what your readers want/expect you to write …

3) Do you enjoy writing sex scenes? Or do you struggle for every word …

4) Do you believe in your heart of hearts that most romantic stories should include sex?

5) If you read a story with strong sexual overtones, do you feel cheated if the author does a fade to black? Why or why not?

6) If you’re an author, do you feel a subtle pressure to write smut even if you aren’t really comfortable with it?

(Now I need to go out and run some errands, but I’ll be back in a while to answer these AND to write new episodes for BoD.)

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Statistics

Some random babbling about fandom and website stats.

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INPM #30: Belief

icon with VanGogh's wheeling stars and skies Belief

Forever nameless
Forever unkown
Forever unconceived
Forever unrepresented
yet forever felt in the soul.

David Herbert Lawrence

With this poem the project “(Inter-)National Poetry Month 2008” has come to its conclusion. I hope you enjoyed some of the poems about fantastic creatures and mythical beings that I posted. I definitely had a lot of fun discovering poems about brownies and lepracauns and cowboy pegasi …

And now, I proudly present the poem I started out with, which is now a “list of contents” for this poetry project, poems in a poem, if you will:

“Forever” – Poems in a Poem: My (Inter-)National Poetry Month 2008 »

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INPM #29: Ode to the West Wind

icon with Bourguerau's zephyr Ode to the West Wind

I

O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn’s being,
Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead
Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing,

Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red,
Pestilence-stricken multitudes: 0 thou,
Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed

The wingèd seeds, where they lie cold and low,
Each like a corpse within its grave,until
Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow

Her clarion o’er the dreaming earth, and fill
(Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air)
With living hues and odours plain and hill:

Wild Spirit, which art moving everywhere;
Destroyer and Preserver; hear, O hear!


II

Thou on whose stream, ‘mid the steep sky’s commotion,
Loose clouds like Earth’s decaying leaves are shed,
Shook from the tangled boughs of Heaven and Ocean,

Angels of rain and lightning: there are spread
On the blue surface of thine airy surge,
Like the bright hair uplifted from the head

Of some fierce Maenad, even from the dim verge
Of the horizon to the zenith’s height,
The locks of the approaching storm. Thou dirge

Of the dying year, to which this closing night
Will be the dome of a vast sepulchre
Vaulted with all thy congregated might

Of vapours, from whose solid atmosphere
Black rain, and fire, and hail will burst: O hear!


III

Thou who didst waken from his summer dreams
The blue Mediterranean, where he lay,
Lulled by the coil of his crystalline streams,

Beside a pumice isle in Baiae’s bay,
And saw in sleep old palaces and towers
Quivering within the wave’s intenser day,

All overgrown with azure moss and flowers
So sweet, the sense faints picturing them! Thou
For whose path the Atlantic’s level powers

Cleave themselves into chasms, while far below
The sea-blooms and the oozy woods which wear
The sapless foliage of the ocean, know

Thy voice, and suddenly grow grey with fear,
And tremble and despoil themselves: O hear!


IV

If I were a dead leaf thou mightest bear;
If I were a swift cloud to fly with thee;
A wave to pant beneath thy power, and share

The impulse of thy strength, only less free
Than thou, O Uncontrollable! If even
I were as in my boyhood, and could be

The comrade of thy wanderings over Heaven,
As then, when to outstrip thy skiey speed
Scarce seemed a vision; I would ne’er have striven

As thus with thee in prayer in my sore need.
Oh! lift me as a wave, a leaf, a cloud!
I fall upon the thorns of life! I bleed!

A heavy weight of hours has chained and bowed
One too like thee: tameless, and swift, and proud.


V

Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is:
What if my leaves are falling like its own!
The tumult of thy mighty harmonies

Will take from both a deep, autumnal tone,
Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, Spirit fierce,
My spirit! Be thou me, impetuous one!

Drive my dead thoughts over the universe
Like withered leaves to quicken a new birth!
And, by the incantation of this verse,

Scatter, as from an unextinguished hearth
Ashes and sparks, my words among mankind!
Be through my lips to unawakened Earth

The trumpet of a prophecy! O Wind,
If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?

Percy Bysshe Shelley

Notes:

Zephyrus, or just Zephyr, in the original Greek Zephuros (Ζέφυρος), in Latin Favonius, is the Greek god of the west wind. The gentlest of the winds, Zephyrus is known as the fructifying wind, the messenger of spring. (Wikipedia)

The icon is based on an engraving by William-Adolphe Bouguereau dating from 1875.

Overview: (Inter-)National Poetry Month 2008 »

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INPM #28: Notes from a Nonexistent Himalayan Expedition

icon with big brown bear Notes from a Nonexistent Himalayan Expedition

So these are the Himalayas.
Mountains racing to the moon.
The moment of their start recorded
on the startling, ripped canvas of the sky.
Holes punched in a desert of clouds.
Thrust into nothing.
Echo-a white mute.
Quiet.

Yeti, down there we’ve got Wednesday,
bread and alphabets.
Two times two is four.
Roses are red there,
and violets are blue.

Yeti, crime is not all
we’re up to down there.
Yeti, not every sentence there
means death.

We’ve inherited hope-
the gift of forgetting.
You’ll see how we give
birth among the ruins.

Yeti, we’ve got Shakespeare there.
Yeti, we play solitaire
and violin. At nightfall,
we turn lights on, Yeti.

Up here it’s neither moon nor earth.
Tears freeze.
Oh Yeti, semi-moonman,
turn back, think again!

I called this to the Yeti
inside four walls of avalanche,
stomping my feet for warmth
on the everlasting
snow.

Wisława Szymborska

Overview: (Inter-)National Poetry Month 2008 »

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