Am I in the write place?

[NoJo]

Hi, I've submitted four "erotic" stories (the first I've written) in the last three weeks. The frankness, smartness and general responsiveness of the posters on this forum has been really heartening, and has already understand some basic writing guidelines. But I still have a problem defining my stories. I don't find them erotic, insofar as they don't really turn me, the author, on. They're more ABOUT sex than sexy, I think. Hence the scare-quotes around erotic.

I's be really interested to know your take on my last submission, The Witch of the Lock.
Would you call it "Erotica?"
I sent the first draft of this to LadyPheonix, who seems to me to be a very incisive (and kind) critic, but submitted a final draft to lit.com without really waiting for a response from her (I suffer from premature submissions).
I honestly have no idea if the story is mediocre, good, bad, terrible, brilliant, erotic or boring. It's currently rated at around 3.75, which doesn't really give much idea.
Any feedback, particularly from authors, would be appreciated.

 

[Quasimodem]

This is definitely "The Write Place."

We have just entertained a thread about 'one handed typers' and found that many of our writers are not turned on by their own stories. Myself included - especially during the editing process!

If you manage to persuade some Editor/Reviewer to go over your work BEFORE publication, DO try to wait for their advice.

Publishing before you get their feedback, might give these people the idea that their efforts were not appreciated. Then you WOULD be in trouble here!

‘Involuntary Submission' is not a considerate disease for a writer to develop. Especially one working with an Editor.

 

[NoJo]

Respect

Publishing before you get their feedback, might give these people the idea that their efforts were not appreciated. Then you WOULD be in trouble here!

Quite right -- I felt a bit stupid, but to be honest I thought I might have been hassling for feedback. I'm pretty new to the site, and to netiquette in general. Also, I get a little scared of the law of Diminishing Fleas with my writing... rewrite after rewrite. So I just whack it off into the ethernet and start hammering away on the next one, if you get my meaning.

 

[NCmVoyeur]

The evidence points to a very heavy bout of drugs

To answer your question, I'd call this 'erotica.' Partly because it has enough sexual detail; partly because I wouldn't know what other label to put on it.

Though the story is more funny than it is arousing. Whether it was intended to be funny, I can't quite tell. The characters indulge in lots of mind-altering substances. In that vein, the quirkiness of the subject and the jumpy, unusual style of the narrative was rather fitting.

Some particular points.

The opening sentence: Read my Tarot," Celia implored Joe as they sat on the aft deck of the narrow-boat in the sullen evening, ignoring the cries and grunts issuing from the cabin where Charlie and Rosie, their respective partners, cuckolded them.

The opening is weak. A woman can't be cuckolded (that term and privilege belongs to males alone). And the husband is apparently sitting by giving implicit permission to his copulating wife. The reason for this 'sullen evening' is never really explained.

The Tarot deck was the classic Rider Waite design .

One-half of your readership probably doesn't know there is a a 'classic' Tarot card design, let alone the name; the other half probably could care less. This is one of several points where the narrator's 'editorial' tone becomes intrusive and annoying.

The whole Tarot card subject weakens the story; it's a subject that most people can't take seriously, yet the characters in the story and the narrator seem to do so.

The rich symbols on the cards were beautifully and cunningly designed to create the greatest ambiguity. He had immediately felt attuned with the cards, and he had soon become an accomplished reader.

How hard is it to become an 'accomplished reader' when the cards are so ambiguous to start?

It was The Six of Swords. The card depicted a ferryman on a river.

Keeping the hot smoke down in his lungs, he explained, "This is your House – this is your environment." He laughed, exhaling smoke. "Textbook interpretation is: Travel, usually by water."

Ferryman on a water -- travel by water. Who'd a thunk it?

Again, as a reader I'm not sure whether to laugh or not.

She seemed a forlorn anachronism from a time that never existed, a Pre-Raphaelite damsel cruelly thrust into a disillusioned age, the no-longer swinging Britain in the last quarter of the twentieth century.

This sentence tries too hard to impress; there are too many concepts tossed in together. It seems to me an 'anachronism' points to some other defined period (how else could something be anachronistic?). So using that term together with 'a time that never existed' is incongruous. And I'm not sure what it means to be a 'pre-Raphaelite damsel.' (How did Damsels change after Rafael?)

(Yes, this was the mid '70s, when jealousy and possessions were un-hip, when passive men had as almost as good a chance of getting laid as their more assertive, sexist and less cool contemporaries, when AIDS, still nameless, was quietly planning for a harsher decade.)

In this sentence the 'editorial narrator' moves up to social commentator. Again, you have to decide to whom you're writing. The 'give me sex' crowd doesn't need this insight; those with a more cerebral approach already know this. It becomes awkward and condescending.

His dick, more honest than his brain, was limp with anger and resentment at first, but the first touch of her perfect skin aroused him instantly.

Is he angry at her for being with the other guy or not? (This is still not explained). If so, then his immediate erection seems implausible.

Her arms and legs curved slowly around him, a daisy at sunset. She lay under him, her body wrapping him in pinkish-white petals, folding him inside her.

More incongrous imagery. Is she a daisy? Or a venus-flytrap?

Then you follow this soft, floral image with

She guided his head down to her black-haired cunt.

"Cunt" seems rather harsh following the flowery stuff before it. It jars.

With parted strawberry lips she watched his mane of black curls stroking and caressing her groin and thighs.

Misplaced modifier. It reads like her lips (which lips?) are another set of visual organs through which she watches him. (Though, we men do fear women secretly keep a camera inside there.)

He rose and fucked her.

Hemingway would admire this line. Though, in context, the simplicity becomes almost comical.

Her blood-filled vulva

Be careful with adjectives and imagery. This sounds like she's having her menstrual discharge.

She lay breathing lightly under a spell, a Sleeping Beauty that he alone could awaken, he alone could awaken.

I couldn't tell if this was an inadertent repetition, or a bad attempt at melodramatic effect. Either way, cut it.

And Ann'll open up her gates for you."

* * * * *

The five of them sat on the grassy bank of the canal a few yards from the cottage, mopping egg and pig-fat from their plates with the hunks of bread-and-butter that the old lock keeper had provided.

Her name was Ann.

You already gave her name two lines ealier

'Ann the craggy Witch of the Lock.' This is too much like "Tim the Enchanter" of Holy Grail fame. I was cracking up.

Without warning, she put her hands to her chest and rotated her large breasts through the fabric of her dress.

Joe became suddenly frenzied with lust.

This reads too much like bad 'net porn (the instantaneous lust effect). Better to have put in the bit about the possible aphrodesiacal spell first, then mention his lust. In the order it reads, one can't comprehend how the sight of this craggy, wrinkly 60 year old is arousing at all.

His rapidly withdrawing forebrain

Again, if you mean these phrases to be incongruous and funny, you're good.

She tensed her abdomen with an odd movement, almost as though she were doubling with cramps, securing his dick tightly inside her. So firm was the hold this gave her, that she could lead him without hands, slowly backing up step by step, down the hill past the cottage to the canal bank near the Lock.

Stop! My stomach is starting to hurt!

The evidence pointed to a very heavy bout of drugs and sex.

I loved this line. Maybe it sums up the whole story.


I'm still not sure what to make of this story. 'Quirky and comical' or 'haphazard and banal.'

 

[NoJo]

NcmVoyeur, thanks for your insightful comments!
I am really flattered that you took the time to both carefully read and comment in such detail.

I can see implicit in your comments that this story suffers a little from “you had to be there”.

I KNEW people like this, I even spent summer on a narrow-boat with some of them!
We took a lot of drugs, and had lots of sex, and fucked each other’s girlfriends, and generally took ourselves pretty seriously. We were all into dowsing and Tarot. Many of my contemporaries know the Rider Tarot really well; the way people knew Monty Python, The Prisoner and Tolkein. It was all part of a post-hippy (and British) student culture.

I’ll take your points one by one (note that I agree with many of the criticisms there).


The evidence points to a very heavy bout of drugs
A woman can't be cuckolded
I think if a woman can fuck, she can cuckold! But you’re right, it’s inaccurate. I mainly liked the word because it was old-fashioned.
The reason for this 'sullen evening' is never really explained.

Imagine sitting playing cards with someone while your mates cuckold you. Pretty fucking sullen, I’d say! Plus it was evening.

One-half of your readership probably doesn't know there is a a 'classic' Tarot card design, let alone the name; the other half probably could care less. This is one of several points where the narrator's 'editorial' tone becomes intrusive and annoying.

If you don’t know the Rider Waite Design, then I admit the story loses a lot of its imagery. And you’re also right, I should have shown the cards, not just named the design, which alienates a large percentage of readers. I toyed with the idea of some scanned images here.

The whole Tarot card subject weakens the story; it's a subject that most people can't take seriously, yet the characters in the story and the narrator seem to do so.

I don’t really know about that, I guess you have to have been into Tarot at some point.

It was The Six of Swords. The card depicted a ferryman on a river.
He laughed, exhaling smoke. "Textbook interpretation is: Travel, usually by water."

Ferryman on a water -- travel by water. Who'd a thunk it?

That’s why he laughed.

She seemed a forlorn anachronism from a time that never existed, a Pre-Raphaelite damsel cruelly thrust into a disillusioned age, the no-longer swinging Britain in the last quarter of the twentieth century.

This sentence tries too hard to impress; there are too many concepts tossed in together. It seems to me an 'anachronism' points to some other defined period (how else could something be anachronistic?). So using that term together with 'a time that never existed' is incongruous. And I'm not sure what it means to be a 'pre-Raphaelite damsel.' (How did Damsels change after Rafael?)

I guess I was thinking of Rosetti’s paintings – very much the ideal for a number of English girls during the ‘70s. . But I agree, it’s a pretty phoney sentence, added at a late stage.
The incongruity was intentional – romanticism is exactly nostalgia for a golden age that never existed.

(Yes, this was the mid '70s, when jealousy and possessions were un-hip, when passive men had as almost as good a chance of getting laid as their more assertive, sexist and less cool contemporaries, when AIDS, still nameless, was quietly planning for a harsher decade.)

You’re right here – I should either assume, like the Tarot, that people get the picture, because they understand the culture, or I should have SHOWN, rather than commented on their youthful behaviour. Should have been Excised.

Is he angry at her for being with the other guy or not? (This is still not explained). If so, then his immediate erection seems implausible.
He was angry, but forgot about it as soon as he felt her skin. Fuckin’ kids!

Her arms and legs curved slowly around him, a daisy at sunset. She lay under him, her body wrapping him in pinkish-white petals, folding him inside her.

More incongrous imagery. Is she a daisy? Or a venus-flytrap?

A daisy curls up at sunset. Daisies are very common here, so I guess this another British assumption.

Then you follow this soft, floral image with

She guided his head down to her black-haired cunt.

"Cunt" seems rather harsh following the flowery stuff before it. It jars.

Intentional. I like harsh.


With parted strawberry lips she watched his mane of black curls stroking and caressing her groin and thighs.

Misplaced modifier. It reads like her lips (which lips?) are another set of visual organs through which she watches him. (Though, we men do fear women secretly keep a camera inside there.)

You’re right. Misplaced modifier!

He rose and fucked her.

Hemingway would admire this line. Though, in context, the simplicity becomes almost comical.

Well, when you’re twenty or so, you’re kind of a mix of raw sexual energy (cunt, fuck) with almost comical romanticism.

Her blood-filled vulva

Be careful with adjectives and imagery. This sounds like she's having her menstrual discharge.
She WAS about to get her period. I like pale and bloodless women menstruating.

She lay breathing lightly under a spell, a Sleeping Beauty that he alone could awaken, he alone could awaken.

I couldn't tell if this was an inadertent repetition, or a bad attempt at melodramatic effect. Either way, cut it.

Bad attempt at melodramatic effect.



Her name was Ann.

You already gave her name two lines ealier

You’re right. Bad proof-reading – written in different edits.

'Ann the craggy Witch of the Lock.' This is too much like "Tim the Enchanter" of Holy Grail fame. I was cracking up.

Ahh, you’re on the right track now. But why crack up?

Without warning, she put her hands to her chest and rotated her large breasts through the fabric of her dress.

Joe became suddenly frenzied with lust.

This reads too much like bad 'net porn (the instantaneous lust effect). Better to have put in the bit about the possible aphrodesiacal spell first, then mention his lust. In the order it reads, one can't comprehend how the sight of this craggy, wrinkly 60 year old is arousing at all.

But you got the fact that it was spiked in the next sentence, and it's obvious I don't write like bad net porn, whether you like my writing style or not.
I can find ugly 60-year-old hags sexy sometimes. No kidding! Am I sick or what?

His rapidly withdrawing forebrain

Again, if you mean these phrases to be incongruous and funny, you're good.

Do you mean because it sounds like “foreskin”? I should have read it aloud! You’re probably right. I meant “awareness” or “consciousness”. Unintentionally funny!

The evidence pointed to a very heavy bout of drugs and sex.

I loved this line. Maybe it sums up the whole story.

Maybe!


I'm still not sure what to make of this story. 'Quirky and comical' or 'haphazard and banal.'

Nor am I. Seriously.

NcMVoyer, Thanks again for your time and responses.

For the record, I haven’t EVER taken hallucinogens (unless you count pot). I have never really wanted to.

Joe ;->

 

[NCmVoyeur]

You're most welcome. I realize the 'it was good' sort of superficial feedback leaves one wanting more, so I try to be substantive.

Yes, as you sensed, I never lived that life (darn). Though I think that leaves an opportunity for you as writer to draw those like me in a bit by giving a sense of what about Tarot was appealing. We may not buy into the soothsaying powers, but we may still find interesting the history, the sense of mystery/ancient cultures, how the designs came about, things like that. Maybe you could have introduced a character that is a bit Tarot-challenged.

Showing examples of the cards prob. isn't necessary (not sure how you'd do that anyway). You could describe the impact of the design on the observer (what detail makes it eery, ominous, creepy, funny, etc.) I never quite got into the mindset of the mystical and odd, so later it became difficult to find the witch as fascinating.

As to the painting/character idea, I now see what you were trying to accomplish. Sometimes it's nice to let the reader's mind connect the dots; sometimes you have to do that for them more overtly. This might have been an instance for the use of simile. Something like "she was like a figure from a Rosetti painting, a free spirit oddly moving through an age that had grown conservative." (Not sure I have captured your meaning, but I hope the stylistic point is clear).

'Tim' as the name for the Enchanter was comical because of the unexpected incongruity; not "Zargon" or something grandiose. Just 'Tim'. Likewise, 'Ann' as a name for a colorful, wrinkly witch just seemed funny.

I'll have to read a few of your other stories to get a full flavor of your writing.

As I've noted in other posts, I appreciate an intelligent style that thinks 'outside the box.' Keep it up.

 

[Guest]

Enjoyed reading it A LOT.

Hey Joe,
I don't have much memory of the mid-70's. I was a toddler then. But, I acquired enough knowledge to imagine what it was like to be a student in that period of British history since then.

The setting is good; a couple of boys and girls stoned out of their head on a boat.

I read 'Pre-Raphaelite' and BOOM I'm thinking of James Waterhouse and his chums' paintings.

The name 'Charlie' made my mind warp--helter skelter, baby!

"Joey drinks a pot of tea,

"Mixed with Annie's tot of pee.
I couldn't help but remember Angela Carter's siberian shaman.

You had to be there?
I was there, floating around your characters(Ann's great, btw).

the classic Rider Waite design
I don't give a monkey what the tarot card is called or looked like, but I do understand Joe's interpretation of the cards is integral to the story. I do not think Tarot card subject weakens the story. Hey, it's the 70's, man.

(Yes, this was the mid '70s, when jealousy and possessions were un-hip, when passive men had as almost as good a chance of getting laid as their more assertive, sexist and less cool contemporaries, when AIDS, still nameless, was quietly planning for a harsher decade.)
I rather like this. I found it neither awkward nor condescending.

Which lips?
Yeah, which lips?(I agree with some points raised by NcmVoyeur)

For the record, I haven’t EVER taken hallucinogens (unless you count pot). I have never really wanted to.
It showed, unfortunately.

All in all, very entertaining story. How do you do it, man?


P.S. I can't believe you've omitted black pudding.