Long story long: Once upon a time, I lost my mojo.
Now, I know how to write a sex scene. In all the stories I wrote in my teens and twenties, most consisted of a bit of context wrapped around an extended sex scene. Some were written in eye-watering detail and, looking back, others read more like furniture assembly instructions.
When I first drafted Body of Water there were four sex scenes. (Three made it into the published version.) Isali Dreams was equally raunchy, and I also wrote The Elements of Love for an M/M Romance Goodreads anthology which involved a steamy threesome. Sure enough, it was a popular read.
Then everything changed.
When I came to write Memory of Water, I was in a place in where sex was the last thing on my mind. (I was fortunate in that Shaun, the lead character, was pretty much in the same place. The two sex scenes I started were cut short by dramatic events. Sex didn’t drive Shaun but regret and longing did.)
At the same time as writing Memory of Water I offered to write another story for the Goodreads group based on a picture of men in a shower. I thought the story I’d crafted was an inspired piece, illustrating the damage an insatiable sex drive can do to a man’s psyche. The lead character had done terrible things to cover up his indiscretions and paid the ultimate price for it.
I submitted it with pride.
They hated it.
It didn’t get published.
I was so mortified I cancelled my Goodreads account. Something had gone very, very wrong. I’d allowed my inner prude—or was it delusions of literary grandeur?—to censor my duty to give the people what they want.
Why am I telling you this? Well, I signed back up to Goodreads today, and re-joined the M/M Romance group. When the next anthology comes around, I’m going to give them the sexy they’ve been waiting for.
You can find me on Goodreads here.