I’m part of a cool writers’ group.
Each week we read and review the next scene of each other’s projects. Some feedback is relevant. Some is not. And we all have our quirks when we receive critique.
Although I’m not exactly young, three of this group of five men are older than me. And unlike me, all other members are straight. The work I’m presenting contains three sex scenes, as well as three scenes where the promise of sex doesn’t eventuate. Some of these scenarios include a man and a woman, while the others include all men.
Writing sex is fairly new to me.
This is my first work with this many sexually charged chapters because I’ve learnt to embrace them. All of these scenes advance the story, telling us something new about a character as they navigate situations they didn’t expect.
And writing these from a particular character’s point of view is more rewarding than simply trying to titillate the reader, as this still fits the niche I’m known for. I guess that’s why I challenged myself to so many of these scenes in this manuscript.
The chapter I’m reading next will be a breeze.
It’s a straight ‘almost’ sex scene which reveals the pain of an older man’s secret, and the wife’s disappointment. I read it to my husband this morning. He loved it, so I’m looking forward to presenting it to my group.
Later in the year, I’ll read a scene where a gay couple invite a third to bed. One of these characters suffers from internalised homophobia and this is his first step in accepting himself, warts and all. He is also one half of the couple, not the third.
My husband also heard this chapter this morning.
And yes, he has the same reservations I have. The scene has a good mix of the ins and outs (pun intended) of gay sex along with our hero’s internal monologue. The third man invited to bed is an ex of our hero’s, so our hero is familiar with both men and discusses how people who know each other need to let their guard down. They have to allow each other to see their ‘freak’ (a term borrowed from Macy Gray’s song, ‘Sexual Revolution’).
But, as I said, these intellectual musings about the act are weaved with descriptions of the act. Hearing myself read the mechanics of a gay three-way out loud, while imagining I was reading it to the straight men in my group, didn’t ease my concerns.
But they’ve already heard my gay foreplay scene.
I think my main concern is how they’ll react to this couple inviting a third. This couple’s relationship started out rocky yet in the preceding chapters, began to blossom.
It’s a departure from my earlier works. I’ve written about love triangles, but most of the time the novel ends celebrating the union of a couple. Or on one occasion, the three-way brought the couple closer.
This work examines hetero-normality as one of its themes.
Between the second and third drafts, aspects in my own life made me examine what this term means, reminding me of when I was asked be a couple’s third back in the late 1980s. At the time, I accepted, and after the act they were keen to befriend me. They offered to lend me a book which sparked my interest, and wanted me to meet a friend they thought I’d get along with.
I was in my early twenties, new to Sydney, and lonely. But as my sexuality was accepted by my family, I was concerned that one day they’d meet this couple. A couple in an open relationship. So, I rejected the invitation to return, and never borrowed that book.
When it’s time, I’ll let my group know they’re about to hear a gay sex scene.
And I’m sure they’ll be fine with it. Hell, I already presented a gay foreplay chapter weeks ago.
I just need to remind myself, times have changed since the 80s.
kevin klehr 