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StillStunned

Scruffy word herder
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Clichés are impossible to avoid in writing, and perhaps even more so in erotica. If you want to describe your POV character, there are only so many ways to do it: admiring themselves in a mirror, summing up their physical characteristics in a conversation, seeing a "Wanted" poster for themselves on the wall of the police station. To get the mother and son in bed together, you're pretty much limited to "oh no, there's only one bed in this hotel room!" or something equally contrived. The voyeur gets lucky because the new neighbour hasn't put up curtains yet. And so on.

Of course a good writer can take any of these clichés and turn it into a good story without even trying to disguise what they're doing. But even then, there's probably a limit to how many times you can do it before you get bored.

So here's a thread dedicated to taking an old cliché and giving it a new spin. Not avoiding it - that can become contrived itself if you're trying too hard - but the same cliché but with a breath of fresh air to brighten it up.
 
My first offering: the mirror.

How about, instead of standing passively in front of the mirror, the character catches a glimpse of their reflection in the tall glass window opposite as they come down the stairs? You can break up the static scene with motion, and add an element of uncertainty because it's not a perfect reflection. Or a series of smaller mirrors arrayed along the wall, to create the opportunity to describe separate features one by one.
 
I’m unsure why looking in a mirror is seen as problematic. I look in diffenet ones multiple times a day. And I don’t think I’m particularly vain, more insecure. People don’t say buying a coffee is a trope.
Of course people look in the mirror. That's what they're for, after all. But I'm referring to the cliché of describing your POV through the medium of having a convenient mirror, preferably within the first few paragraphs. When they give a mental description and critique of every physical feature.
 
I don't really do that, in that way. I describe the outfit as they're dressing. The mirror is the last step in admiring the result.



"To get the mother and son in bed together, you're pretty much limited to "oh no, there's only one bed in this hotel room!" or something equally contrived. "

I don't do that either. It's always intentional.
 
One bed cliche —> both characters compete somehow to win the bed. End up having uncomfortable sex on the floor anyway. More pleasurable than memory foam and a 400 thread count.

Mirror cliche —> character instead looks at their phone’s Lock Screen, showing an image of themself. Potentially a different version of themself, which can tie into the theme of the scene or story.

No curtains for the voyeur —> Neighbor DOES get the curtains, but they’re thin. And when they’re closed, the silhouette of sex can still be seen when said neighbor turns on a nearby lamp.
 
For mirrors, if it's just the face you want to describe, have the female character check on her makeup in a handheld mirror before entering an important meeting at work (or a date, etc.). Said mirror can be replaced with a smartphone's front camera (which I usually call "selfie camera" in my writing) if it's a contemporary story.
 
If you want to describe your POV character, there are only so many ways to do it: admiring themselves in a mirror, summing up their physical characteristics in a conversation, seeing a "Wanted" poster for themselves on the wall of the police station.
This makes it sound like simply narrating what the POV character already knows is something we can’t do.

As if the reader can’t be allowed to learn it unless the MC happens to discover, or at least consciously notice, it in real time theirself.

Why would we only be able to narrate their acts of looking, observing, consciously mind’s-eyeing, noticing, or conversationally stating stating the details of their appearance?

There’s a narrator, why can’t they just narrate.
 
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Of course people look in the mirror. That's what they're for, after all. But I'm referring to the cliché of describing your POV through the medium of having a convenient mirror, preferably within the first few paragraphs. When they give a mental description and critique of every physical feature.
But that’s what women do. Is this a male critique based on not understanding people with no Y chromosome?
 
Kneeling down in front of me as I finished my face, my brother took one foot and worked a shoe onto it, then the other. Looking down to see them for the first time, I was amazed at how glamorous they were. And high.

“Damn those are high. I hope I can stand up in them!”

“Here, take my hand and let me help you up.”

I made it OK and walked over to the full length mirror to take a look.

Auburn mane flowing over my shoulders, face done to perfection, somewhere between beauty contestant and adult film star, breasts standing out firm and high, neatly trimmed pubic hair, long lean legs and those damned shoes. I’ve spent the last few weeks trimming and toning as much as I could. I’ve spent hours by the pool tanning in the same skimpy bikini making sure to get it adjusted the same way each time so I’d have clear, well defined tan lines that would highlight my breasts and pussy. Those regions almost glowed in the dark now against my tanned skin. I was running my hands over my body without even realizing it.

“I wish I could fuck myself!!!”

“Well you can Sis, but we don’t really have time for that now and you’ll mess up your make-up.”
 
Mirrors, LOL. That rings a bell. It happens that I have a story in a state of partial completion, using that as its explicit theme. The working title is an uncreative "Mirror Mirror." A sample:
Eva, the first to break the spell, leaned casually against the bathroom doorframe, her voice playful but with a glimmer of something more daring beneath. “Okay, Claire, it’s time. Stand in front of that mirror and name three things you love about your body. Don’t worry, I’ll be right behind you.”

I didn't come up with it explicitly to break up a cliche, but just a fun way to describe the characters' bodies. Maybe I'll have to take another crack at completing it.
 
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In Loving Wives, we often use the term Burn the Bitch, and most stories entail some kind of violence against her (or him if it's the bastard who cheated). Or at least they divorce, leaving the cheater penniless.

In "Break the Bitch, Drive Her Crazy", the MC owns a tech security company. While they were married, he set up his own home with the latest tech devices.

So, when they divorced, he allowed her to keep the house. And when he finally wanted his revenge for her further harassment after they were divorced for a year, he remotely accessed all of the tech in the house. He could detect movement in any room and listen through the sound system. A small part of his revenge used the Sonos speakers in the master bedroom:
**********************************************************
This time, I started playing a music file on the Sonos speakers in the bedroom very quietly. It was a new version of the old 1966 song by Napoleon XIV. The volume of the music was so low, you could barely hear it. But I had modified this version of the song with a voice changing program for the new voice of a woman who sounded a lot like Sarah.

"They're coming to take me away, ha-ha
They're coming to take me away
Ho-ho, hee-hee, ha-ha, to the funny farm
Where life is beautiful all the time
And I'll be happy to see those nice young men in their clean white coats
And they're coming to take me away, ha-ha!!!"


That modified song became her bedtime music, playing softly every night after she went to sleep. The only time it wasn't playing was when I felt like running her around with the screams.
************************************************************

The MC used the Sonos speakers in other rooms to play loud screams occasionally, causing her to run around to disrupt her sleep. Along with his other parts of the revenge:
************************************************************
A few weeks later, I heard that her oldest son found his mother sitting in the living room, just staring at the blank TV. She was in a sleep deprived state by that time, just muttering to herself: "They're coming to take me away, ... They're coming to take me away, ... They're coming to take me away,... " Isn't it odd how sometimes a song gets stuck in your head?
************************************************************
My ex-wife's sons moved their mother into an assisted living facility, liquidating her estate to pay for her to be in a private room and 'supervised' wherever she goes.

So, leaving our high-tech house to the bitch? Priceless!
************************************************************

There was no physical violence against his ex-wife when he burned his bitch!
 
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Of course people look in the mirror. That's what they're for, after all. But I'm referring to the cliché of describing your POV through the medium of having a convenient mirror, preferably within the first few paragraphs. When they give a mental description and critique of every physical feature.
I remember reading Gone With The Wind as a teen and being a little perplexed by Margaret Mitchell's description of Scarlett's breasts using this literary device. Teh Bewbs, you know.
 
But that’s what women do. Is this a male critique based on not understanding people with no Y chromosome?
No, this is a writer's, and frequent reader's, critique of a simple trick that has become overused in literature.

Fortunately this is a thread dedicated to giving new spins to those overused clichés. So perhaps you can share an example of how you would give your own, fresh twist to such a scene that doesn't have the reader rolling their eyes.
 
So perhaps you can share an example of how you would give your own, fresh twist to such a scene that doesn't have the reader rolling their eyes.
I think Frances is questioning the whole premise that it does have the reader rolling their eyes. I'm quite inclined to agree; I never noticed the mirror thing being overdone in anything I've read here (independent of other cliches like "I'm so hot with my 36DD melons"), and the few times I used in my stories no one has pointed it out.

Are you sure this isn't chiefly an editors' foible and/or some light writers' snobbery?
 
I had a really lovely email from a reader yesterday who had finished reading all of my stories and singled out something I’d done with the ‘Just One Bed’ trope in my ‘Monsoon Coming’.

Six unattached young adults had planned to share four rooms in a house, with three guys in the den below and three girls in separate bedrooms:
Bed 1: F, Bed 2: F, Bed 3: F, Bed 4: M M M (separate mattresses on floor)

So naturally there was a flood in the 4th bedroom, and after discussion they reconfigured like this:

Bed 1: FF, Bed 2: MM, Bed 3: F, Living Room Couch 4: M

After an awkward first night, on the second night the woman by herself gave a quiet invitation to the geekiest of the three guys after watching him play violin, which gives us:

Bed 1: FF, Bed 2: M, Bed 3: FM, Living Room Couch 4: M

But naturally some of the others hear their noise, which results in:

Bed 1: F, Bed 2: M, Bed 3: FM, Living Room Couch 4: MF

That then stimulates some structured bed swapping for the rest of the story, as they travel around together and cope with different room configurations (that are in reality being engineered by the chief organiser, who is one of the women).

The point was to use the trope to disturb the sleeping arrangements but to leave the women in charge of the outcomes without unreasonably forced intimacies. It was a fun thing to write.
 
It's enough of a cliché to have its own TVTropes page, including a list of fiction-writing guides that expressly urge writers to avoid it. To the best of my knowledge, it goes back at least to Sheridan Le Fanu's "Uncle Silas".
That page also has a very informative third paragraph which details how to employ the trope skillfully. I find the "in some circles" especially relevant.
 
Of course people look in the mirror. That's what they're for, after all. But I'm referring to the cliché of describing your POV through the medium of having a convenient mirror, preferably within the first few paragraphs. When they give a mental description and critique of every physical feature.
My rule of thumb for this stuff is: as an author, mostly you want the reader to forget your existence while they're reading. You want them suspending disbelief and imagining that the story is real, and that's not going to happen while they're consciously thinking about how this is a work of make-believe that some scruffy human typed on a computer.

When a story begins with the protagonist looking in the mirror and giving a detailed description of themself, readers are going to surmise (most likely correctly) that this is happening because the author wanted an excuse to describe the character. You're reminding them that this character is not a real person who does things of their own volition, but a puppet being wrangled by the author.

Nothing wrong with mentioning mirrors where there would reasonably be mirrors, or having people looking in mirrors where it's coming out of something intrinsic to that character - Lord Botherington looks in every mirror he passes because he's just that vain. But when it's done as an excuse to insert character description, readers are going to twig and it'll feel heavy-handed.

One of the reasons this device in particular often feels jarring is because it often leads to describing the POV character in a way that doesn't feel right for their internal voice.

If you were trying to describe me to a complete stranger, you might say something like "a six-foot-tall redhead with cerulean eyes, aquiline nose, and size 84JJ tits, with a dueling scar across the left cheek"*.

But when I'm looking at myself in a mirror, I'm not paying attention to those things. I see them every time I look in the mirror; I'm used to them. I'm more likely interested in transient things: is my hair tidy? is that a tiny pimple on my nose?

There are certain folk who might take stock of their appearance as if viewed through the eyes of a stranger, but that should be an intentional character trait based in that character's personality, not a default.

*actual Bramble may vary; description non contractuelle
 
No, this is a writer's, and frequent reader's, critique of a simple trick that has become overused in literature.

Fortunately this is a thread dedicated to giving new spins to those overused clichés. So perhaps you can share an example of how you would give your own, fresh twist to such a scene that doesn't have the reader rolling their eyes.
Could it be a sentient mirror who makes the viewer look better than they are and then compliments their appearance?
 
But that’s what women do. Is this a male critique based on not understanding people with no Y chromosome?
This doesn’t seem to have anything at all to do with why this narrative technique has become a writer’s cliché.

If that phenomenon had anything to do with gender, then, male writers wouldn’t write any character doing this, and female writers wouldn’t write male characters doing it.
 
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