It’s already February, and in honor of the month that florists, chocolatiers, and card companies count on, I can’t think of a better time to prattle about another issue that many writers grapple with: To Sex or not to Sex.
You’ve been faithful to decipher and transcribe your character’s words. There’s a trust building; an intimacy between author and teller that writers of fiction know very well. You have accepted the invitation to become their voice to the world and in exchange they share their innermost thoughts, triumphs, pains, and desires.
All is going along swimmingly when a friendly relationship between characters suddenly kindles before erupting into an inferno of passion so intense that even the writer blushes. We feverishly pound away on the keyboard, not wanting to quench the fire before getting all of its erotic essence distilled with each keystroke onto the page.
Yes, many of us have been the bearers of our characters most private moments. It’s a natural function as old as post-garden humanity and something that’s hardwired into our DNA. But, when the spark between two people ignites into raw unbridled fury, the writer has to determine how much is too much without diminishing the encounter and its subsequent impact on the storyline as well the characters.
Details Details Details
Disclosure of intimacies, be it teenaged rites of passage, or full-throttle steamy encounters between adults, requires discretion. In bygone days there were codes of conduct regarding such revelations; a little tittilation was acceptable by most standards; anything beyond that bordered on poor taste, and at worst branded the author a degenerate or pervert. Then we entered a period where sex was prevalent on the shelves regardless of genre, and the gratuitous presentations became almost cartoonish in an R. Crumb sort of way.
I’m not suggesting that the stories themselves were poorly executed; my observation is that there’s a consequence for excessive indulgences, and what once brought a flush or even arousal, suddenly falls into the bucket of the blasé.
The pendulum of excesses in this regard seems to be moving back toward equilibrium, with the exception of a genre or two where everyone eventually ends up naked and in a pile. It’s encouraging, because I believe this tests us to become better writers when we must advance our keystroke vocabularies beyond the basest communication of an intimate moment; and that’s a worthwhile endeavor in my view.
So then, how do we dispense that scorching scene in the interest of all participants, including the author? I’ve reduced it to these three strategies.
- Let it stand as written.
- Skillfully portray the entirety of the moment through an artful lens tinted with innocence, wonder, and exclusivity.
- Elude to it as a past encounter, using sexual innuendo in dialogue between the characters.
All absolutely have their place, but for the sake of the story, characters, and our writing development, I’ve learned to craft the same scene using each approach. After the temperature cools I’ll determine which version best suits the principles and their story.
When I wrote the original sex scene on pages 113-114 in the first edition of Town Lawe, it was of the raw unbridled fury type, definitely option 1. Jennifer laughed, and suggested couples keep it on their nightstand as a marital aid, something that brought a smile. However, as I grew to understand the gravity of my role as writer, I learned to temper these types of encounters more skillfully for publication.
The scene on page 174 of the paperback, although a different couple, counter-balances the first, with just the right amount of detail folded in to be highly sensual while leaving space for the reader to have their own experience. More in line with option 2. In fact, that particular scene informed my decision to redraft the earlier encounter while cleaning up some mechanical issues for the second edition.
The rewrite, now on page 111, retains all of the sexual tension and release of the original, it’s just not quite as explicit, more option 2. I might even get through reading it at a book club full of women without a blush or stammer, although like kissing and telling, I’d prefer not to!
Regarding option 3, I’ve just used this one in an upcoming project and it’s a really fun reveal! No, it’s not in Clary Sage & Yarrow. 😉
As I said last month, we have to write what we’re given. We also want to do the tellers and their stories justice in our books. Writing is a craft of lifelong learning. Our novels; a wrestling match with ourselves, characters, story, and language. For those who embrace the gift, it’s a most rewarding experience well deserving of the challenges presented along the way.
Employ these strategies the next time you’re in the throes with those literary lovers, the results may surprise you!
I hope your 2026 is off to a great start and you found something useful in this.
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Up next for March – All Good Things . . .
Until then—
Happy words,
-Bruno