Why do you write?

[mynameisben]

Well I've kind of taken a personal policy. When a story drops to a certain point I don't put out a second chapter. It's not even that I refuse to write another chapter; it's just that I physically can't be inspired once I know my work was not well taken. For me I have lots of ideas and I can fire away but when that flare is gone even mid story it’s just lost!

From what I’ve read most of you feel the same, right?

Please don't include me in with that sentiment. If a story is difficult for me to write, then it damn well oughtta be difficult to for them to read.

We're authors, damn it. Not everybody can do this. They should be thankful we give them anything to read at all.

 

[TxRad]

Please don't include me in with that sentiment. If a story is difficult for me to write, then it damn well oughtta be difficult to for them to read.

We're authors, damn it. Not everybody can do this. They should be thankful we give them anything to read at all.

Give them 227000, letters and let them build their own story. We'll sell them as novel kits.

 

[loquere]

Please don't include me in with that sentiment. If a story is difficult for me to write, then it damn well oughtta be difficult to for them to read.

We're authors, damn it. Not everybody can do this. They should be thankful we give them anything to read at all.

LOL I've thought that so much. I didn't say appease them. What I was saying is. Dosen't a bad reception destroy your ability to continue that series?

The initial story is hard and it being hard is self gratifying beyond words!

First off I try to put my passions in blatantly or subtly. What pisses me off is when I get anonymouse fucking emails telling me how and what to put in the next chapter. If I had the persons email I would verbaly fuckem up!

 

[sun_sea_sky]

When I discovered erotica as a genre for legit writers-instead of guiltily pilfered, poorly written letters in a magazine-it was so much fun to escape into the moment. To write the moment. To immerse myself in sex and sweaty skin and passion that just could not be contained. To revel in a world where sin was sacred and taboo lived and breathed in gasps and sighs. Heady stuff.

Nicely put. This thread has inspired a new plot for me. I'm calling it "The Writer". Still WIP.



I might run out of steam before all the heavy sex happens, but maybe not.

 

[honeybeez]

Nicely put. This thread has inspired a new plot for me. I'm calling it "The Writer". Still WIP.



I might run out of steam before all the heavy sex happens, but maybe not.

Thanks! And I am quite certain that the "heavy sex" will, umm, come to you.

Much luck with your story and please post a link when it's finished!

 

[Tio_Narratore]

I don't write fiction primarily either for myself or the audience; I write it for the story. It starts in my mind, and takes over itself; all I do is write it down and edit it a bit. But, yes, I do enjoy it, and I particularly enjoy reading what wrote itself out in my mind when it's finished. I'm pleased when other readers enjoy the story as well, but I don't really care about scores. I stopped writing for the contests since it seemed far more about the ratings than the stories.

 

[Dennis_St_John]

[…Yuh gotta welcome both, and you should be your own worst critic. You always wanna be first to catch your defects. But pick something legit when you go harpooning. Your destination is to not need editors and reviewers. And if your stuff is THAT good, you'll know it all by yourself…]

I wish. If I were my own worst critic, I'd probably stop writing (lol). After laboring on a story, editing, re-writing until you are cross-eyed looked at the darn thing, I gets to the point where you don't even want to think about it anymore. Even after all that, writing like masturbation (unless you are lucky) is a very solitary occupation.

It might be a little masochistic, but you want someone else to agree (or not) that what you have just written is the best thing to come down the pike since sliced bread. I envy writers like Isaac Asimov who could write a 'white draft' copy of a story, rip it out of the type-writer and send it off to his publisher without a second glance, or think much about it after he'd sent it.

To a writer, stories are much like their child, and the last thing you want to someone pointing out all its flaws, (mine having many that no matter how much editing I do I can't see) and yet, how are you going to improve your writing unless someone points out the flaws. I suppose suffering the slings and arrows of outraged readers is part and parcel of being a writer. I do however disagree with James B Johnson's statement […And if your stuff is THAT good, you'll know it all by yourself…] Writing is such a subjective thing, and I doubt any of the great writer set out to write the 'Great' novel, or knew they had until someone told them.

 

[sr71plt]

From what I’ve read most of you feel the same, right?

Nope. I don't post chapter one until the whole thing is finished--and I go ahead and post the whole thing. Comments/votes on Literotica don't control me.

 

[loquere]

Nope. I don't post chapter one until the whole thing is finished--and I go ahead and post the whole thing. Comments/votes on Literotica don't control me.

When one chapter adds up to around 40 to sometimes 80 pages having number 2 and 3 ready to me sounds like a full time job.

I wan't be doing that until Penguin books buys Literotica and offers me a staedy salary where iI can resign from my cureent employ!

 

[TxRad]

When one chapter adds up to around 40 to sometimes 80 pages having number 2 and 3 ready to me sounds like a full time job.

I wan't be doing that until Penguin books buys Literotica and offers me a staedy salary where iI can resign from my cureent employ!

I wouldn't hold my breath for Penguin but e-books do offer some real money. Maybe not enough to let you quit your job but enough for a vacation every year and some goodies on the side without effecting the household budget.

Anyway, if you love to write, it is a labor of love.

 

[sun_sea_sky]

Thanks! And I am quite certain that the "heavy sex" will, umm, come to you.

Much luck with your story and please post a link when it's finished!

Here:

http://www.literotica.com/s/the-writer-10

It's a little unbelievable, but then, aren't they all?

 

[Balke7612]

I write because it's in my head and if I said it out loud I'd never shut up.

I remember being 7-years-old, being at school and writing 32 pages in my work book when the teacher told us to write a short story. Obviously when I became the filthy teenager who would eventually grow in to who I am now my imagination kind of got carried away along one particular route. So for the last 15+ years, when my mother has said to me 'you should write, you were always so good at writing' I have to shrug and tell her I don't really have the time.

I think a lot of why I write what I do is because it's the only way I can read what it is I want to read. Even if I read a story here and absolutely love it, I can't hlep myself from thinking about how I would've done it differently. It's like my art teacher told me: 'there's no way that the colour in the bottle is the colour that's in your head'. That said, I hate re-reading my own work, especially once it's up on here, I get no pleasure from it at all, just a string of doubts and regrets about how I wrote it.

 

[honeybeez]

Here:

http://www.literotica.com/s/the-writer-10

It's a little unbelievable, but then, aren't they all?

Lol. Yeah, they are all a little unbelievable. But then, most of us will never have perfect 36-24-36 bodies, 12 inch cocks, screw our siblings/parents/extended family, enjoy quasi-rape, have kinky sex w/ werewolves, find the perfect Dom, or have the joy of seeing our spouse/significant other relish a semen facial by foreign businessmen, etc., either.

I think you did a very nice job of portraying the "Writer's" loneliness and the confidence that can come from viewing a situation by removing yourself into the role of observer...and how writing can indeed make strange bedfellows.

Keep writing!

 

[SydneyBlake]

Why do I write?

Because it hurts not to. (Stole that one from estragon.)

 

[SydneyBlake]

Do they send a message?

Every story sends a message. Whether that message was intended by the author is another, ahem, story.

 

[HankDolworth]

Long time reader, first time writer.

My story came from an idea that wouldn't get out of my head. The only way to exorcise the bitch was to put it to paper... or pixels.

That people have read parts and seem to like parts, blows my mind.

It's also a bit of a mental puzzle, which is alluring to me.

Have I been infected?

 

[SydneyBlake]

Long time reader, first time writer.

My story came from an idea that wouldn't get out of my head. The only way to exorcise the bitch was to put it to paper... or pixels.

That people have read parts and seem to like parts, blows my mind.

It's also a bit of a mental puzzle, which is alluring to me.

Have I been infected?

Sounds terminal to me.

 

[loquere]

Every story sends a message. Whether that message was intended by the author is another, ahem, story.

That's true!

 

[loquere]

I find now that I'm not full of ideas, but new worlds.

 

[Dennis_St_John]

Why I like to write

To me, writing is rather like mental masturbation, in that it is mostly (usually) a solitary occupation. Especially this area called 'erotica'. Unlike most people, who just fantasies about a given sexual experience they might like to have. A writer has the ability to step out of this ordinary, normal world, and into a universe of his, or her own creation and put it down on paper (so to speak).

In that universe, few, or none, of the normally acceptable rules of behavior apply. Each of the citizens of that universe has to behave the way he, or she, wants them to, with little or few consequences for is character actions, unless deemed so by the 'God' of that universe. Even the concept of good and bad is flexible, and only subject to the writer whim, or the rules of the universe he, or she, has established.

I happened to come across a very old manuscript a while ago and reread the story. I have to say, this was written pre-computers or writing programs on a typewriter, to give you some idea of just how old the story was. Thankfully, it will never see the light of day every again, but it did provide a gage to how my writing has progressed.

Being a product of the English school system, my original writing reflected that, and all the old rules so painfully imparted to me by a secession of English teachers. Now of course, with the advent of the computer and writing programs, my craving, and ability to write is so much more um… flexible. I can write several pages now, and with just the click of a mouse, sent them into oblivion and start again. (Hard to do when pounding out a story on a typewriter) My terrible spelling and punctuation has now reached a somewhat acceptable level, and editing a story is so much easier.

But still and all. At the end of the day, it all comes down to the story, and whether it's worth telling, be it for your own entertainment, or others. Now I can look to see if I have created characters with depth, included sufficient description of the surrounding, given the characters feeling and thoughts of their own, and not just a thumb nail sketch. To me, that is why I write, finding pleasure, not only in devising the plot, or story line, but also in how well I have crafted the overall story for my enjoyment, as well as the reader.

DSJ

 

[Acktion]

Do you write for the readers, or for yourself?

do you write, with a specific reason or agenda with a higher purpose in mind. Or is it just about the sex?

Yes, yes, yes, and a resounding yes.

I am sick with PD, CPS, and ET which has driven me out of work and has me housebound. I can't even play computer games much any more because I don't have the coordination remaining to me to do so and the pain makes me stop after a short time. I have a rich and varied past eclipsed only by my even richer imagination. And even as Kipling's mongoose, I have and have had a burning need to "run and see".

However, I have been clinically diagnosed as a "Sex Addict". Up until that diagnosis was made, I truly did not understand that other people's entire existence was not driven by sex. But... I sometimes think it is only because they will not admit it to themselves. But, if they want to lie to themselves and each other, it's no skin off my nose.

Ok, so having intercourse with three different partners in three different sessions and masturbating to climax four times as well during a single twenty-four hour period might be a little more than most other people would even want, much less be able, to do. I don't really think it's fair to say I was "sick" any more than a fat man that can eat seven Big Macs in a day.

But, whether I am sick or not, I have always felt that society as a whole is sicker. It is sick with repression of the individual's sexuality.

In my checkered past, I wasted a few years in college thinking I wanted to be a marriage counselor and specifically a sex therapist. Soon, VERY soon, after graduation I was disabused of that notion and went back for a very different degree which I used until a genetic illness snuck up and surprised us all. I just could not handle sitting there and biting my tongue to keep from screaming, "For fuck's sake, if you two blithering idiots would just talk to each other, you wouldn't need to come talk to me!" for the rest of my career.

But, they can't. People who "love each other", and "want to spend the rest of our lives together" can't even talk to each other about what they want and don't want, like and don't like if it is about, *shh*, sex. Because society tells us that it is taboo. Taboo to talk about. Taboo to do. Taboo to want.

But... we have a secret world. A world of whispers. A world where fantasy gives the snobbery of a society that tells us that part of us is taboo "the one fingered salute". A world of "fiction" that has been set apart and deemed untouchable if undesirable by the society as a whole. Individuals from that society bring their secret selves to this shadowy world, that self that society claims is taboo.

Here, in the shadows of the darkest corners of their hearts I can try to give them a glimpse of what their life could be like if only they dared. It is not always pretty. It does not always have "a happy ending". But, it is, even in it's ugly primal beauty, even in it's heart rending sadness, less ugly and less sad than a life only half alive. Perhaps if I touch one who can touch another and so on, the society will one day throw off it's scabby, scaley cloak of self-righteous denial and become what it could be, what it's individuals always have been in their heart of hearts.

So, yes, I write for myself to give me a reason to get up. Yes, I write for the reader who has to sneak away to appease that part of themselves that they hide. Yes, I write for a higher calling, an ideal. And, yes. It IS all about sex.

Then again... I could just be a horny individual trying to have mental sex with as many people as possible and everything I just wrote is just a load of self-aggrandizing justification and mental masturbation.

 

[loquere]

Yes, yes, yes, and a resounding yes.

I am sick with PD, CPS, and ET which has driven me out of work and has me housebound. I can't even play computer games much any more because I don't have the coordination remaining to me to do so and the pain makes me stop after a short time. I have a rich and varied past eclipsed only by my even richer imagination. And even as Kipling's mongoose, I have and have had a burning need to "run and see".

However, I have been clinically diagnosed as a "Sex Addict". Up until that diagnosis was made, I truly did not understand that other people's entire existence was not driven by sex. But... I sometimes think it is only because they will not admit it to themselves. But, if they want to lie to themselves and each other, it's no skin off my nose.

Ok, so having intercourse with three different partners in three different sessions and masturbating to climax four times as well during a single twenty-four hour period might be a little more than most other people would even want, much less be able, to do. I don't really think it's fair to say I was "sick" any more than a fat man that can eat seven Big Macs in a day.

But, whether I am sick or not, I have always felt that society as a whole is sicker. It is sick with repression of the individual's sexuality.

In my checkered past, I wasted a few years in college thinking I wanted to be a marriage counselor and specifically a sex therapist. Soon, VERY soon, after graduation I was disabused of that notion and went back for a very different degree which I used until a genetic illness snuck up and surprised us all. I just could not handle sitting there and biting my tongue to keep from screaming, "For fuck's sake, if you two blithering idiots would just talk to each other, you wouldn't need to come talk to me!" for the rest of my career.

But, they can't. People who "love each other", and "want to spend the rest of our lives together" can't even talk to each other about what they want and don't want, like and don't like if it is about, *shh*, sex. Because society tells us that it is taboo. Taboo to talk about. Taboo to do. Taboo to want.

But... we have a secret world. A world of whispers. A world where fantasy gives the snobbery of a society that tells us that part of us is taboo "the one fingered salute". A world of "fiction" that has been set apart and deemed untouchable if undesirable by the society as a whole. Individuals from that society bring their secret selves to this shadowy world, that self that society claims is taboo.

Here, in the shadows of the darkest corners of their hearts I can try to give them a glimpse of what their life could be like if only they dared. It is not always pretty. It does not always have "a happy ending". But, it is, even in it's ugly primal beauty, even in it's heart rending sadness, less ugly and less sad than a life only half alive. Perhaps if I touch one who can touch another and so on, the society will one day throw off it's scabby, scaley cloak of self-righteous denial and become what it could be, what it's individuals always have been in their heart of hearts.

So, yes, I write for myself to give me a reason to get up. Yes, I write for the reader who has to sneak away to appease that part of themselves that they hide. Yes, I write for a higher calling, an ideal. And, yes. It IS all about sex.

Then again... I could just be a horny individual trying to have mental sex with as many people as possible and everything I just wrote is just a load of self-aggrandizing justification and mental masturbation.

Well said, it's all about the journey.

 

[JAMESBJOHNSON]

Readers come for answers and connection with kindred spirits. One of my grad school perfessers publishes porn for cripples, his characters have issues and disabilities and manage to have lives inspite of everything. My job as a writer is to create wares for my readers.

 

[DeeZire]

I write because I'm a pervert and I can't find suitable reading material. I click out of about 99% of the LIT stories I start. My favorite writer is Stacy Richter, who publishes short stories under Scribner and another lesser-known publishing house. She's also had pieces in magazines and online. She doesn't write sex stories, but her writing is odd, off kilter, and it suits me.

ETA: 99% was an exaggeration. It's more like 90%.

 

[SamScribble]

Why do I write?

Many years ago, having studied Graphic Design, I applied for a job as a junior art director with an advertising agency. After a very pleasant chat with the creative director, he offered me a job – not as a junior art director, but as a junior writer.

‘Yes, you have some design skills,’ he said. ‘But I think your real talent is as a writer.’ He also warned me that while hardly anyone thinks they can draw, almost everyone thinks that they can write. ‘But they can’t,’ he assured me. ‘Writing’s a craft. You have to work at it. Every day. You can’t just sit there waiting for the muse to come to you. You have to go after her. Every day.’ He was right, of course.

One thing led to another, and writing advertising copy led to writing magazine pieces which led to op-ed columns which led to short stories which led to radio drama which led to TV scripts which led to …. Well, you get the idea.

I soon discovered that once you start writing seriously, it’s difficult to stop. I also discovered that the easiest stuff to write about is the stuff that interests you. Art interested me. And so did music and sailing and business and food. Words and ideas were also high on my list of interests.

My introduction to Lit came about when a friend was bemoaning the lack of craft in most erotica. She said that, just for once, she’d like to read an erotic story with proper grammar and punctuation. ‘I bet you could do that,’ she said. And so I gave it a try.

Happily, she liked the result. The Lit readers were not quite so chuffed. They only gave my effort a score of about 4.30. No red Hs. But I did get quite a bit of very positive personal feedback. It seemed that my friend was not the only person who liked their smut with a splash of grammar and conventional spelling and punctuation.

I guess that I write because that’s what I do. And I occasionally write smut because it’s a pleasant little distraction from the more serious stuff. OK?