I had a very good friend of mine stop me dead in my tracks with an email the other day. Yes. Dead. In my tracks. How, you might wonder? She actually asked a simple question but it’s not a simple answer.
You wrote a male/male story. But you’re a girl. How is that possible?
You might be cocking your head the same way I was. At first I thought, how is it not possible? I mean, parts are parts and they go in the same general slots. Right? But then I thought on it a little longer. Oh, and I stared at the email a little longer. How was this possible?
Ok, so yes, I sat flummoxed at my computer for quite a while. I had no answer that would make a heck of a lot of sense. But something another friend said, came to mind. Now mind you, we come from totally different backgrounds and situations, but we’re friends—good friends to be exact.
What did she say? The question posed to the both of us was this: why not write interracial?
My answer: Um, I’ve never had a whole lot of experience outside of white bread Ohio. (Honest truth at the time)
Her answer: well, you’re a girl. I’m a girl. We pee the same, right? The color of our background and the situations we live in should only make the story richer.
I don’t mean this in any ill manner, but I thought, holy crap…she’s right. Just because I’ve never done something doesn’t mean I can’t write about it. So, I translated it into writing sexual stories.
I’m a girl, yes. But having sex is a rather universal thing. Most all of us…do it. A little healthy research, some photograph reference, and asking lots of questions can get you lots of answers. Some answers you might not want, but hey, can’t have everything.
So what did I tell my emailing friend? I said…Heya. Hon, I’m not a man and never claimed to be (wouldn’t that confuse the cabana boys?). But I’ve had my share of fun and I know the mechanics of sex, be it tab A into slot B or tab A into slot A. It all works about the same—okay, so some needs a little more lube. You’re blushing, aren’t you? Good. I’m trying to get into the character’s head. I’m trying to show their feelings through sexual situations. If I get it right, cool. If I get it wrong, I’m sure there will be a lot of people out there willing to tell me. I write what I like and what the characters want to be.
Do you want to know what her reply was? Thought you might.
Her reply was this: You’re still not a guy, but trust you to be a perv. You’re always trying to push the envelope and be drastic. One of these days you’ll get into trouble.
Yeah, that was the answer. I chalk it up to this–she didn’t get the answer she wanted. I assume she wanted me to say, well, now that you’re offended, I won’t write that. Or maybe something like OMG you’re right. I never looked at it your way.
But I didn’t. We’re still friends, but we don’t talk as much. She is right in one part. I live for trouble. Seems to be my best buddy and we skip off down the lane together on a daily basis. If I had a tattoo, I’m sure trouble and I would have matching ones.
So as I sit here typing the last part of this essay, I leave you with this—write what’s in your heart no matter color, creed, persuasion and be true to it. You’re writing for you and if others like it, fantastic. But if you don’t love it first and foremost, look for what you do love.