Feel Like Makin’ Love

You’re welcome for getting that song stuck in your head.

Last week I talked about heat index and how to define your novels for submission or how to search for the right Goldilocks-level of heat for your preference. This week, I want to talk about writing engaging love scenes in your books.

No matter the level of heat you’re writing in, the sexiness of a scene doesn’t just depend on how many engorged members you’re throwing in there.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Wow, what a visual. Yeah, that actually makes it less sexy thinking of it…penises getting thrown into bedrooms willy-nilly. Ha, willy-nilly…ugh. Ahem, let’s move on.

Let’s get something straight right away, sexiness isn’t about sex. Heat and desire, aren’t about sex. At least not for the majority of women. (Men, if you’re reading this, get a notebook.) Sexiness is about connection. Two strangers can have sex, and people will read it. Penthouse has proven this. But if you really want someone to read a whole book about two characters, follow them through the quagmire of plot arcs and dialogue, sex is the perfectly balanced frosting on the cake of it all. Two characters that are emotionally connected interacting in a physical way, drives up the excitement and anticipation in the reader tenfold.

It’s all about chemistry. It is vital when aiming to curl the toes of your readers, that you give your characters a connection that feels genuine, deeper than surface level, and tied to their emotional well-being. Then, when you get to the point of all that delicious teasing, it makes the ‘climax’ all the better. Because it isn’t just about physical satisfaction, it’s about connecting in the most intimate way with someone who really gets you. Who loves you. Who sees your scars and your war wounds, and kisses every one of them with acceptance and care.

So if you want to up the sexiness of your scenes, establish a good connection, (even if its enemies to lovers). Find a common ground between them, a exposition of trust that opens hearts, and a deeper understanding of one another that makes the sex even better because there will be less reserve, fear, or doubt involved.

And this brings me to another point, writing good connection between characters is a subtle art that you can employ in your dialogues, body language cues, and inner dialogue (if you write that POV).

Next, depending on your comfort level, what you crave in romance, the nature of your book, or the heat index you’re working on, be honest about the sex. It doesn’t always have to be pretty. Heads get bumped, knees get scraped, giggling ensues. Don’t shy away from the human experience and the parts that make it truly beautiful. With that remember that there are a lot of senses involved in the act. Sight, sounds, smells, touch, taste. Don’t be afraid to play around with them as a way to bring readers in. How far in you bring them is up to you, but even the best closed-door scenes have an awesome build up to the point the door slams shut.

Attraction, chemistry, and desire are the tenements of any good romance, but remember that it starts with connection. Human connection, in all its glorious messiness. Putting in those beautiful messy moments will help bring your characters in a place where the love they make is a natural and much anticipated progression in your book.

Advertisement

Kats n’ Dogs: The Importance of Conflict In Writing

I live in a veritable menagerie of animal and child chaos. Now, we’re down by one basset just this last year and it’s been more quiet without our Bailey girl, but her brother still manages a good ugly face when the cat garners more attention than he thinks she should. Yet she keeps insisting that he enjoys her arching-cat rub beneath his saggy jowls, calico tail flicking into his cataract plagued eyes.

He secretly does.

Until he sees us watching.

Then he’s all bark and tiny overbite snaps at the air above her.

“Knock it off, I don’t like it. I don’t like you.”

But we know better.

It got me thinking about conflict and what makes it work in our novels and stories.

We all know the basics of conflict as it pertains to our writing. That it needs to be between our main character and some other source (i.e. a person, technology, the weather, the government, their past etc.). That it drives the character to escape, succeed, fail, run (to or from) all important story climax points that keep the reader engaged.

But when I think of this kind of conflict, I think about writing romance.

Ok, look away and or stop reading if you think this has nothing to do with your historical fiction on the Prussian War…but I’ve only got a few more words left and it may give you a little insight.

Sometimes the conflict comes in the not wanting to want what we want. It comes when two characters rub each other the wrong way, precisely because it’s kind of the right way and they both hate admitting it. Two characters (leads in your story, no matter what their gender or sexual orientation) who get riled up by the other are usually, in some way, riled up about how much they don’t hate them despite knowing they should.

patrick and kat2

One of the best examples of this is Kat’s final speech in 10 Things I Hate About You. (I GET that its from a teenage snippy version of ‘Taming The Shrew’ but bear with me because that movie is actually quite brilliant and the principal is a romance novelist who spends a great deal of the movie looking for synonyms to the word “penis”).

It is a play on the beloved Shakespearean 141st Sonnet, beginning with “In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes…” and underscores this principle of why not wanting to love someone can be the most powerful motivator of behavior and conflict.

“I hate the way you talk to me
And the way you cut your hair
I hate the way you drive my car
I hate it when you stare

I hate your big dumb combat boots
And the way you read my mind
I hate you so much that it makes me sick
It even makes me rhyme

I hate the way you’re always right
I hate it when you lie
I hate it when you make me laugh
Even worse when you make me cry

I hate the way you’re not around
And the fact that you didn’t call
But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you
Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.”

It’s in the breaching of walls, the naked vulnerability, and the human exposition that binds us as readers to the character, and makes us fall just as hard as they do.

You may not have swooning shirtless people with wind machines in the background, mussing their perfectly golden locks, while they embrace ecstatically, but I bet that you have a character that you want your reader to root for. And that means creating conflict that resonates with the deeper tendrils of human emotion hidden beneath the layers of caustic comebacks and snide remarks.

Your conflict doesn’t have to drive your character into the arms of their reluctant beloved, it just has to drive them into the hungry hands of your readers.

Happy Writing!