A Stealthy Cad

by Kathleen Bradean

Have you ever written about your lovers?

Hmm. Yes, and no. Next question?

Oh. You want me to expand on that answer. Well, hmm. I've never turned on the literary hidden camera and preserved a... what does one call it? Sexual encounter? An episode? A tryst? Anyway, I've never written about one of mine from start to finish with any attempt at historical accuracy. Mostly because when it's good, I roll over and fall asleep. I'm such a romantic. But really, try to cuddle with me after an intense orgasm and we will have words. Mine will be, "Go away." Yours better be, "Sorry," or better yet, silence as you get on your own damn side of the bed.

I would never write that in a story.


I haven't written about most of my lovers since-- let's be honest here-- the average person makes for a terrible character. They aren't extreme enough to be interesting to read about, and extreme people in real life are too high maintenance to have an affair with. As an example, my latest passion, the TV show Sherlock. In real life, if you lived with someone like Sherlock, chances are that you'd (okay, I'd) take a baseball bat to him one evening as he plucked that damned violin for three hours straight. Not to mention that he'd probably be terrible in bed. But I'm sure there's already scads of erotic fan fic about him, and probably quite a bit of it is slash* with Sherlock and Watson. But without looking to verify this guess, I doubt there's as much erotic fan fic about Watson sans Sherlock, even though in real life Watson would be the far better lover of the two. Since I haven't done jail time for assault with a deadly weapon, you can assume that in real life, I haven't had a Sherlock lover. But I know that readers don't want a Watson; they want the Sherlocks. That's my best writer's reason for not using my real lovers as characters.

However, I have written about one truly terrible real life sexual encounter that reflects so poorly on my skills in bed that it comes off as a comedic piece. And I wrote it with enough true details that it's possible that she'd recognize herself. I have mixed feelings about telling that story. Not because I'm embarrassed about my part (well, yes I am, but if you can't cringe at your past, you don't have one) but because I feel like a cad sharing what she had every right to expect was a private moment. Thankfully, she's the only one who could point to a story and say, "That bitch wrote about me!"

I've grown stealthier about sharing things. Now I start off with characters and plots that are emphatically not me or past lovers until I reach the point in the story that must ring true. That's when I tap into those affairs that left deep impressions. I dredge up the emotions and physical responses and for a paragraph or two bare my past to readers. Old lovers won't know, because no one ever knows what's going on in your head or what sensations you're feeling. Old lovers won't see themselves in the characters. Readers won't know because it's hidden within a story-- or if you prefer, a morsel of truth wrapped in pretty lies and indistinguishable from the rest. But what I write in those paragraphs is the real thing. Like orgasms, that's something I don't fake.


* Slash. If you read erotica or fan fic you're probably aware of it, but if this is a new term for you, slash is m/m (male slash male) fiction. There's also f/f and other variations, but when someone says slash, they usually mean male, although not necessarily gay even if it includes male on male sex. Slash is a complicated topic. I'm not even going to try to address all the nuances here. Just take it to mean here that the fan fic with Sherlock and Watson probably portrays them as lovers. 







 

The Unconventional

by Kathleen Bradean

When I meet eager young writers, one of the comments that frequently pops up is, "I don't want to write about these unrealistic people. I want to write about normal."

This is usually followed by a wince on my part.

Yes, the stereotypes can seem rather lazy. Just add hair color (raven, auburn) and eye color (sapphire, emerald) and viola! Instant characterization. That's what those writers want to rebel against, and I'm all for it, except that no one wants to read about the most mundane person on the planet doing laundry. Unless you can write such an ubermundane person that your work becomes a literary sensation (such banality! trite is the new black!) your characters are going to have to do something, anything, that makes them worth reading about. People might not want square-jawed heroes who do everything right (snore) but we don't want to see the version of us that runs out of a burning building in a screaming panic. We want to see the version of us that would dash into the flames. It sure beats getting smoke inhalation injuries in real life.

The way around that is to create characters that are unconventional yet fascinating. I'm a huge fan of the new Sherlock series on TV. It's enough to put an armchair psychologist into raptures of delight and frantic speculation on fan lists. Why does Sherlock, who is asexual, provoke such a strong sexual reaction from other characters and fans? In one show, John Watson calls him Spock. The similarities are there in our reactions to Sherlock, certainly. But there's so much more to obsess on. There's the extremely fucked up, and yet utterly believable, relationship between Sherlock and his brother Mycroft. But what fascinates me the most isn't watching the unbelievably delicious Benedict Cumberbatch get away with being horrid to everyone. (that's more of a guilty pleasure) It's Martin Freeman as Dr John Watson. A very ordinary looking man (sorry Martin, but that's your stock in trade, isn't it?) but not so ordinary after all. He's a doctor, so he's no idiot no matter how poorly he compares to Sherlock. And he's incredibly brave, doing what needs to be done with little fear of death or harm and with a sense of calm that's a bit chilling if you take time to notice him. Average guy? Not on your life. He may be the stand-in for the audience in the show, but if he's us, we're far cooler than we ever imagined we were. This Watson is the version of us who would run into the burning building, save the kittens, put out the fire, and leave before anyone got our name. And of course there's the mysterious bond between Watson and Sherlock. We get why Sherlock needs Watson even if Sherlock can't puzzle that one out, but why on earth does Watson continue to put up with Sherlock once he's on his feet again? The show plays all its gay cards on the table, so of course that can't be it. (unless it is and they're oh so crafty hiding it in plain sight). You know I'll keep watching to find out.

No writer can make me laugh like Christopher Moore. In his book A Dirty Job, he goes to great lengths (sometimes a bit too far, but who cares when you're laughing so hard?) to point out that his main character Charlie Asher is a beta male. The guy knows he's a beta. He accepts that he's a beta. He's so beta that his blood type is B+. And I'm pretty sure he wants, and expects, to lead a very ordinary life and will be quite content that he has that much. But the course of true comedy never runs smooth, so his Charlie Asher is, in  a case of mistaken identity where someone seems to thinks he's an alpha in disguise, dragged screaming and kicking into a fight against the forces of darkness and left to fend for himself. He feels his ineptitude every inch of the way. The reader has far more faith in him than he does, and even we wonder how he's going to get out of it alive.

So sure, forget the central casting alpha guy. Forget the femme fatale (except you know that she's my playground). Forget characters so Mary Sue that they make you puke, or worse, makes your reader toss the book across the room. Create someone fascinating, wonderful, average but not average, horrible, even 'American Psycho-level crap your pants scary.' Just don't make them dull.