Gah... I promised Cerise a guest post and time and life keep getting in my way. But that's an authors life.
Forget the high profile feted ideas you might have (a la Castle!) Most of us are wives, mothers and fully employed in life on a day-to-day basis...
But, back to the matter at hand, something I find hard because daily life keep getting in my way, this morning. Taking the kids to school, feeding the animals, making the bed...
But life is just one big process after another. Sure we get passion, but it’s the day to day stuff that can clog the arteries of a writer.
Think of it as artistic atherosclerosis. One many can suffer from, when writing sex scenes (among other things, but I’m an erotic writer, so it’s something I write a few of! Lol). Don’t get me wrong! I love writing sex scenes... when I’m up to them in the story.
Beforehand though I dither around like a crazy cat on a hot roof. Do I have another one in me? Will it be process but no passion? Will it draw the reader in?
It’s a constant battle to make sure books featuring intimate scenes are passionate, exciting and worth reading. And I know many others who suffer from the same P.V.P. (Process Versus Passion) syndrome as I do. And it’s something I learned right back at the beginning. Sometimes when a writer is first starting out, it’s easy to be so caught up in the process of writing the scenes that they fail to include the passion and focus instead on the process of part A fits into part B.
What do I mean? Let me show you.
She put her hands around his neck. She leaned in and kissed him on the lips.
Now I read that and go “Meh!” The words are there... The process is there but I’m not feeling any passion...
Let me see what I can do with it...
Carla slung her hands around his neck. Her body vibrated as it rocked against him and she shuddered. “Oh Reid! I need you...” Her words trailed away as she leant in.
The whisper of his breath teased her lips and she had to wet them. Sensual delight spun a web around her as she inched closer. Her eyes fluttered closed and finally, their mouths touched.
This time I’m feeling the passion.
How did I change it to include the passion? That’s not quite as simple as knowing which words to add... but it’s a matter of painting the world around them, concentrating on the emotions and feelings. It’s about making the reader able to feel the actions and emotions the characters are experiencing.
Have I read stories with process and no passion? I sure have. But you know the problem with that? I walk away feeling dissatisfied... like I’ve waited for my caffeine hit, only to get a... Decaf! Urgh! (See? Can’t think of anything worse – well so says me as I sit here with my cappuccino in hand.)
Anyway, to be honest, I did think that at some point writing these scenes would get easier. That I’d be able to scroll them off... instead I’m just as concerned as my first. Why? Because now I have the added concern of ensuring they are fresh. Sigh.
So far, I haven’t found a cure for PVP. If you do, be sure to tell me, right?
Imogene is the author of many books, including Hesparia's Tears, Tomorrow's Promise, A Sapphire for Karina and the Edible Delights Anthology Vol 2.
Wife, mother and nutty bookstore owner all describe Imogene Nix, but the real secret is Science Fiction, Paranormal Romance with a hefty dose of Romantic Suspense is what she adores.
She is dedicated to high quality romance, with a dollop of erotic interactions, and has dipped her toes into Science Fiction, Contemporary Romance and Paranormal Romance featuring feisty headstrong female leads and the odd Romantic Suspense.
She lives in Rural Queensland where she happily raises 2 daughters, lots of chickens a couple of cats and her super pup Teddy. When she isn’t writing or reading, she’s hanging out with her husband, acting like a techno-geek or cooking and making wine.
Links—where to find Imogene Nix:Blurb
What will happen when the past catches up?
Galan is from Hesparia, where the females are dying out on his pacific agrarian planet.
Jessa has a past, one she hasn’t earned but cannot escape from.
What will happen when opportunity knocks?
Galan travels to earth, hoping to plead the case for Hesparia. He doesn’t expect Jessa or The Quickening.
Can he make the case for women to migrate to Hesparia and arrange a Diplomatic Alliance? Can they trust one another with their hearts. And can Jessa really escape her past?
The spaceship entered orbit and Jessa watched the tracking on the television. Since learning of the existence of extraterrestrials, it was about all she wanted to do. See where they were and where they planned to land.
The reporter came back on the screen. “We believe they will make their landing somewhere on the continent of Australia. There have been no further radio communications from the craft, however. So it is, at best, an educated guess right now.”
Jessa giggled at the sober face of the young, twenty-something reporter standing outside the Parkes Observatory and the inane follow up comment made by the thirtyish female news anchor.
“Jessa, it’s time for bed!” her mother yelled again.
She sighed dramatically. At twenty-four she was no longer a child, even though her parents seemed to struggle with that small fact.
Maybe it’s time to move out. As quickly as the thought had crossed her mind, she dismissed it. Leaving home meant more expense than she could possibly afford. The thing that really irked her was paying an outstanding legal bill for something she hadn’t even done. It was a refrain that had played through her mind over and over again since the event had taken place. It may have happened years ago, but she continued to pay for her youthful indiscretion. One she had long regretted.
Jessa stood, before heading down the old hallway to the bathroom. Living at home meant sharing a bathroom with her little brother, Ben. Of course, being a boy of sixteen, he was disgusting. There were used razor blades, splashes of water, foam from his recent shaving experience and hairs in the sink. Knowing it would make no difference complaining about it she carefully picked up the discarded detritus and placed it in the bin beside the vanity unit, wiped away the mess and began her own night-time ritual.
Emerging from the bathroom, she spied her mother, standing at the end of the hall in her fluffy blue dressing gown with matching slippers, and her blonde hair sitting high on her head in soft curlers. It was the same scene every night. “Night, Jessa.”
“Night, Mum.” What else was there to say? In a funk, Jessa entered her room, before closing the door then sat down on her single bed. She breathed deeply, letting the oxygen flow through her system, before slowly levering herself down across the mattress. Her blinds were open so she had an excellent view of the star-studded sky. It was a major positive to living on the edge of town, the absence of bright lights.
“Whoever you are, I certainly hope you’re friendly,” Jessa muttered, before closing her eyes, rolling onto her side and willing herself to sleep. For some reason, an excited thrill ran through her system.
Finally, visitors from the stars. No longer was it a figment of someone’s imagination or something from a science fiction novel. The time had come for them to have contact with another species. That was a sobering thought. The Prime Minister had sent a radio message to the ship. God, I hope the Prime Minister didn’t act like a pompous dick. Jessa snuggled down under the covers, waiting for the touch of sleep. Her mind wandered and she drowsed.
Her mobile, sitting on the bedside table buzzed and vibrated. Jessa muttered in the dark, groping for the device. She reached out and found the red leather covered item and dragged it to her ears.
“Jessa, it’s me. Seth. Can you come to the office at the telescope? I need you.” His voice was excited.
She squinted. “I was asleep, Seth. Besides which, I’m off duty until Saturday.” The room was gloomy and she screwed her face up into a scowl, knowing sleep would probably elude her now. “What could be so important that I need to come in right now?” Jessa pushed back the covers, swung her legs over the side then slipped her feet into her old grey slippers beside the bed.
“I can’t tell you over the phone.”
“What?” Something was happening. An agitated thrill filled her chest and for an instant her mind warred with the interest that spiked.
He didn’t need to plead. Jessa was already getting up to hunt out clothes. “Sure. Yeah, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“Thanks. You really won’t regret it.” The delight in his voice was contagious.
Jessa hurriedly tapped the end call button.
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