I write terribly dorky* sex scenes and decided to embrace it. Awkwardly.

*Yes, dork is slang for penis, so this is an amusing double entendre. 

When I first started revising my novel I noticed that for a love story, my characters were pretty chaste. I mean, they weren’t, but I wasn’t showing any of their sexy times together. I was alluding to them. What was I avoiding?

Writing sex scenes

I was avoiding writing sex scenes. Perhaps this is quaint, considering this is the internet and all, but I really didn’t want to go there for any other reason than it seemed really, really, hard.


But I soldiered on.

Photo of a red indoor lamp

Moving beyond the biological

At first, I was pretty tickled with myself. I was sitting on the sofa working on my laptop, my husband nearby reading some high brow literature. I was feeling mighty pleased with the way the scene was developing. There was tenderness, a few whispers and some joining of bodies. It was sweet, I decided. Really sweet.

Then I read it out loud to my husband and he laughed uproariously.

Embracing the dorky-ness

He was right. It was bad. Rather than be discouraged however, I found myself intrigued. What if that’s what I wanted to write after all? A tale of two getting it on without the fuzzy filter on the camera lens?

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