Saturday, June 30, 2012

A Penny Dreadful

50 Shades of Grey can make a mint selling copy after copy of badly written fictional porn and rather than reading the whole book, I picked up a copy and I wondered about what the mother of the author must have thought the first time she picked up the copy of the manuscript and read it. I applaud E.L. James's bravery at writing a trilogy of some of the most raunchy material that has hit main-stream American bookstands. There have been times in the still, boring afternoons when there feels like there is nothing to do, when I've sat down at my computer and tried to challenge myself with writing about a really detailed raunchy sex romp. Getting only about a couple sentences in I find myself giggling at the prospect of other people reading what I wrote. Especially my parents. How did James do it?

Once, I wrote down a dream I had. The entire dream was so vivid I had to record what had happened, and then: I was so excited about having written something as sensual as I did, that I showed the story to my Mom, only then realizing as she made her comments on the story structure and other details I could have provided, that my Mom had just been privy to the intricate details of a sex dream I had had. AHHH!!

But, where is the line drawn when writing about personal experience? For whatever reason, when sitting in front of my laptop screen and willing myself to go into a recount of a particularly filthy and delicious encounter I've had: I stop. Unable to really let myself get into the details of "'Holy Shit.' She murmured, as he lifted her off her feet and banged her up against the closet door." I begin to giggle and then relive the event in my own head. Naw, I don't need to write that down to share with anyone. I doubt that'll leave my brain anytime soon. Heh heh...

Maybe one day, for the hell of it, I'll just have to get over the idea of the blushing faces of people I grew up with (and who have known me since I was peeing in the bath tub) reading the detailed accounts of fictional (or are they?) actions that are occurring to my characters. Because, honestly, writing (and sharing) about sex and crazy escapades is pretty damn fun. And E.L. James made a mint writing pretty mediocre "She Murmured" dialogue and heavily buttered, oily S&M details.

If anything, I feel inspired to create my own Penny-Dreadful and I don't need to have to meet an incredibly rich, good-looking, CEO to give me stories to write about; just a boring afternoon with nothing to do should suffice...

1 comment:

  1. Some of the worst writing I have ever read. So bad I couldn't finish it. No, I didn't even care to see what happened. Shocking, not because of the sex. That was pedestrian if kinked. Shocking because no editor should ever have let that steaming pile get off her desk. Or, in the style of 'Shades', "Holy f***ing, s#!+, crap Moses!"

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