Thank you to those that offered me support last week. I’m in a slightly better place this week, and I for one am all too eager to move away from the heavier, darker shit I’ve been on about lately.
One of the things that bothers me more than anything in erotica is when an author presents a story that clearly exists outside of reality, either in the sense of fanciful events or dialogue that no real human being would use, and then presents the story as a ‘true story,’ something that allegedly happened to them. I’m all for fanciful stories – for God’s sake, I think my own stories prove that – but it bothers me all to hell when an author lies, and lying about a story being true is such an avoidable lie.
I don’t much want to turn this into a hit piece, so I’ll just say an author comes to mind, but I’ve recently been reading their stories, and they like to tout their stories as real events that happened to them. The trouble is, they’re one of those writers that doesn’t know how to adequately portray pacing and evolution of attraction, and their dialogue is robotic and pointlessly exposition-heavy. I’m perhaps willing to believe his stories are based on real events, but aren’t everybody’s? If you’ve written erotica before, odds are you’ve used either a sexual event with someone or even just a sexual attraction for someone as the basis for your work. If you’ve never been attracted to someone sexually, it’s probably very difficult to write erotica.
There’s nothing impressive about a story being a true story, but some people like to see a ‘true story’ as a bragging right, a way to say, “Hey, this crazy sexual adventure? It happened to me. Not only do I get sex, I get sex in unusual situations and a girl told me it felt sorta cool when I put my penis inside of her vagina.” We’re strangers on the internet, dude. I’m not gonna think you’re a sex god because you banged a girl against a window or banged her mom too or whatever. I’m just going to roll my eyes and ask myself who you think you’re impressing.
To me the power of true stories comes from the actual interaction. If we took a specific fetish, like a threesome, it doesn’t change anything in the story to know if it’s fiction versus if it’s the author recanting their own personal life. The power comes through the characters and dialogue to me. If I read a really cool or personal line and thought, “Wow, the author got to witness the real-life counterpart of this character say this to them,” that’s when it becomes cool. Again, the trouble is, the author in question I’ve been reading doesn’t know how to write dialogue, and it shows that they either have a terrible memory or can’t write convincing dialogue for shit, or a weird combination of the two. When I read dialogue that seems like a first attempt, for a fiction story that’s no harm no foul – I’m not a fan of my own dialogue in my earlier work. But when you both half-ass your dialogue then try to brag about the story happening to you when, as it’s written, it clearly didn’t, well… you’re writing for the wrong reason.
I’ve briefly considered writing about events that directly happened to me. I even wrote a draft – it was called ‘My Bashful Private Life.’ I’d change names but not dialogue and feelings, etc. But as I went to write it, it felt… wrong. One, because it concerned the privacy of people other than just myself, and two, I’d rather write about people that have different personalities than myself. I as a person am boring. The reason I write interesting characters is to escape my own reality. Why would I want to pointlessly self-insert myself into my writing? Again, some people to do it as a weird way of proving they’ve had sex before. I don’t know why one needs to prove that, besides I suppose a hidden feeling of inadequacy. I definitely feel inadequate as a person, but for some crazy reason, I don’t have paranoia about people presuming things about my sex life. Think of me as a slut or a virgin, it shouldn’t change the stories. I’ll talk to you all next week.