Is smut erotica or just pornography, and how do you write it without bursting into flames?
Written at a snail’s pace by Narida Law
Ah, this is the question that ponders every mind before going to slipping into slumber every night. It eats at me! After all this pondering, have I come to any conclusions? Found any answers? Alas, no. While I would love to be able to boast that I have come upon the definitive answer to the question posed, in the end it just comes down to: my opinion. Which may mean something to some people, and absolutely zero to others. That’s all right. I’m willing to share my spring—okay, more like small drinking fountain—of wisdom with everyone. It’s an equal-bore opportunity.
When I was approached to write something for Articles for Working Stiffs, I was thrilled, surprised, and stumped. Firstly, because I thought it was a fabulous idea. Secondly, because who doesn’t like to expound on and on (and on) about his/her writing experience in this crazy business we call fanfic? Yet, we were supposed to come up with our own topics, and for the life of me, I couldn’t decide what to write on. I’d hardly want to choose a topic that no one would have interest in hearing from me about. After sharing my doubts, Nicola kindly provided a topic for me (so I know that she, at least, will read this), and I’ve slowly pushed the limits of her patience as I keep promising that it will arrive in her mailbox soon—without it actually getting there.
Why did it take me so long to get this out? I think the major monkey was my original approach. I was trying too hard, being too serious, making the article sound like an advice column, which, ironically enough, is exactly what I was trying to avoid. I am not trying to dispense advice. All I hope to accomplish by writing this is to perhaps support someone out there who might find my experiences helpful. And that’s all I really have to share, anyway—my own experiences.
Not that there’s anything wrong with giving advice. But it’s one thing to give advice when specifically asked, to an audience that asked for it, and to give advice willy nilly to all and sunder, many of whom would probably not deem the advisor worthy of dispensing said advice.
*Whew* All this to say that everything I share here is the result of personal experience. I am not trying to tell anyone that there’s a right and wrong way to go about things. And you’ve probably already realized by this time that this thing is going to be full of rambling and tangents. I’ll be touching upon the true subjects of this article in a haphazard fashion. Hopefully by the end, they will have been addressed in their entirety. (You realize that this is a BIG hope.) Other general info: when I speak about “fanfic” or “the fanfic community,” I am, of course, referring to The X-Files. You’d think that’d be obvious, but I just know that if I don’t make this disclaimer, people are going to come at me with pitchforks for generalizing about the entire fanfic world. Also, I have only written heterosexual sex, and only between Mulder and Scully, so obviously the scope of my discussion is pretty limited. So of course, everything I say in reference to sex, smut, and relationships reflects that.
To begin, it would probably behoove us to give a definition of what I think “smut” is. Well, I believe the term refers to explicitly described sexual acts. I have never had problems with the word “smut.” I have heard it said that people in the fanfic community at one time had problems with the word, that it conveyed a sense of pornography. I have never felt that, but I’ve only been involved in the fanfic community for a little over a year. It’s likely that by the time I arrived on the scene, the term had already evolved to a more accepted status.
To me, “smut” communicates a certain cheek, a certain indulgence, in describing the activity many of us like to see Mulder and Scully engage in. Perhaps at one time, using the word “smut” to describe their lovemaking seemed to degrade the act. It doesn’t seem that way any longer. Perhaps like many words that are used far and wide and with no contrition or apology and with a good dose of humor, it has become harmless—now nothing but a innocuous expression that conveys fondness for the genre, and perhaps pokes a little fun at ourselves when some of us claim to be nothing but “smutsters” who like nothing better than to enjoy a “smut biscuit.”
Obviously, this ability for so many of us to refer to it with such affection, self-deprecation and enjoyment makes it rather hard to buy that we’re all pornographers who are dragging our beloved fictional characters down into a pit of filth and damnation. <g> Instead, I believe that we are, in this small way, each celebrating our own inherent sexuality, realizing that it is one of the few perks we get in this sometime-comedy of errors we call life.
It makes me happy to “let” Mulder and Scully do what they obviously want to do <g>, and what we will almost certainly never SEE on the show. The act itself may happen—in fact, the events of S7 have made this almost a certainty, in my mind—but we’ll never get to see it. I may hold out for a pay-per-view episode of “The X-Files” until I’m blue in the face, but sadly I rather doubt it will ever come to fruition.
I recognize that graphic description of Mulder and Scully’s sexual exploits isn’t for everyone. Some people don’t mind the idea of Mulder and Scully having sex, but don’t want it described in detail. I personally think that our physicality and our sexual urges are beautiful, wonderful things, two of the few small favors humanity has been given. <g> So I hope you don’t mind if I take this favor and run with it. I don’t think sexuality is something to hide from, be ashamed of, or be embarrassed about. People can feel those ways if they want, but I embrace our natural proclivity—as many of us do—and love that we can help our favorite characters embrace it as well. They may not be able to get it on on nationally broadcast television, but by God, the Net will set them free! Wheeee!
I cannot speak for others, but I write smut to celebrate Mulder and Scully’s bond and provide relief for their attraction to one another. I love these characters, and through fiction, can give them, me, and readers who want it, relief from the sexual tension evident between the characters week after week, year after year. It’s a harmless, easy way of diffusing my feelings of “I can’t take this anymore!” and then the next week to be able to return to the tension once again. Fanfic is a medium fans use to ease all kinds of frustration with the show (which many people have expressed at one point or another), and UST is just one of many. I believe that allowing our heroes to pursue a romantic relationship is a way of “righting” a perceived wrong. The fix is impermanent, of course, but it does the trick for the moment that we need it done.
That’s not to say that there isn’t fic porn out there. I’m sure there must be, if only in considering the law of averages and how much has been written. The difficulty in pinpointing “porn” in X-Files fan fiction is that intent—one of the defining markers between erotica and pornography—is less clear. Because we are working with established characters, it isn’t strictly necessary to provide detailed set-up before placing them in a position where smut can occur—the characters themselves supply all necessary set-up with almost embarrassing immediacy. No seasoned Phile will read the names “Mulder” and “Scully” and not have a rush of knowledge of all the experiences we know they have been through, both individually and with one another. With this kind of preset emotional resonance, it’s hard to see anything that occurs between them as porn. We automatically assume certain things about their relationship, their background, that would provide meaning that perhaps a writer did not intend. In which case, we should have our wrists slapped for seeing erotica where porn was intended.
But I venture to say that the majority of the writers who write smut do so with nothing but the most inoffensive of ends in mind—to have fun and to entertain. Exploitation—another defining marker of porn—doesn’t come into it.
I guess this is my roundabout way of saying that I write to have fun and to entertain. That being the case, how does smut fit into it? What do I think of smut? Well, I’m a fan. <g> I like to read it, and it turns out, I like to write it. Prior to fanfic, the kind of “smut” I was exposed to consisted mainly of that found between the Paperback Novels No One Likes To Admit They Read But Know If The Whole Real-World Job Thing Doesn’t Work Out They Can Have Another Avenue Of Income By Writing Them. But most of those are fairly tame—at least, the ones I’ve read. A lot of “manhood” and “flowering femininity” in beds that “moved with the age-old dance of love.” <pauses to gather composure>
When I encountered my first taste of Mulder/Scully smut, I had hotface like you wouldn’t believe. In fact, I believe HOTface should be capitalized, like so. I couldn’t believe the explicitness of the details. And the things Mulder and Scully did to one another!! Holy cow! I don’t know if I liked it right away. Okay, I didn’t. It all seemed much too raw and crude from what I was used to (hilariously, in retrospect, the most jarring thing was seeing “ass” instead of “buttocks”). I tried to find more of what I was used to, but without much success, and eventually, I got over my shock and distaste. Obviously. <g> And now, of course, the romance novel kind of smut makes me laugh. In fact, it doesn’t even deserve to be labeled as smut. <g> Now, the kind of over-romanticized, hedging description found in dime-store Harlequin novels embarrasses me more than the “hardcore” stuff I’ve gotten used to.
I still get HOTface. Not so much when I read anymore, but when writing. I suppose this addresses the second part of the question that’s been posed: how do I write smut without bursting into flames? Well, obviously it’s a talent we all possess, because plenty of people write it, and as far as I know, we’re all safe and sound; not a one of us has been reduced to a small pile of ashes. <g> But, I have to say that sometimes the HOTface gets so that you feel like you ARE going to just light up in your chair. Look at that, trying to distance myself. Why am I dragging =you= into it? Lysandra would beta my ass. Let me try again. “I have to say that sometimes the HOTface gets so that I feel like I AM going to just light up in my chair.”
Maybe I dragged you into it because perhaps you’re the same way. Or perhaps you avoid writing smut, because you can’t stand the HOTface feeling. If either of those describes you, I have good news! Other people feel the same; it can be overcome. Getting HOTface doesn’t mean that you’re not cut out to write smut or that the people who write it don’t get HOTface. Well, I can tell you that this writer at least, gets it. It’s never been as bad as the first time, and every time after has been a little easier. Getting over HOTface is merely a matter of exposure, practice, and time. But there are a few things that I try to keep in mind when I write something smutty and am having HOTface dilemma.
If you get embarrassed while writing, just remember the different levels of HOTface (yes, it's been scientifically researched and proven). When you start getting HOTface, see what level you're on and go to the next one. Then go back to the level before. I guarantee that it'll then be much easier to take! The different levels of HOTface, from "Mild Burn" to "Blistering, Scorching, Fiery Roast" aka "You Might As Well Be In Hell":
1) Reading smut
2) Beta'ing smut
3) Writing smut
4) Reading smut out loud to yourself
5) Reading someone's beta for your smut
6) On the phone with your beta reader, getting beta for your smut
7) Reading smut out loud to someone else
8) Getting in-person beta for your smut I have been through almost every level (I was ambushed by #6).
Perhaps your personal levels are switched around a bit. This is just a simple guideline.
Yes, I have tried every level (the last was forced upon me). Perhaps your personal levels are switched around a bit. This is just a simple guideline.
I don’t think smut is easy to write. It’s a popular story element, so that sentiment may garner derision from some of the fic-writing population. So let me repeat: =I= don’t think smut is easy to write. :-) Because it’s done a lot doesn’t mean that it’s easy. In fact, I’d venture the opposite to be true. =Because= it’s done so frequently, it makes it that much harder to avoid the common pitfalls of the genre. It makes it that much harder to stand out in a sea of fiction, or fiction containing smut, in particular.
Who knows what makes something stand out? What stands out for one person may be ho-hum for another. I don’t wish to claim that I know any answers. But I know what I look for as a reader, and what, as a writer, I try to keep in mind when I write. The two positions are inextricably married, however, and some of my most interesting fic-crafting moments have resulted when the two clash. <g>
My personal approach is that smut between Mulder and Scully should be two things—hot and fun. Otherwise, imho, it doesn’t need to be “smut.” Some story situations don’t call for descriptive sex, and in fact, would take away from the overall tale by not “fitting” the story, other than to give the readers some sex to read. Of course, this is a subjective thing.
But I reiterate that if we’re going to write smut, it should be hot. Who knows what’s “hot” to one person and not to another? I can only judge by my own response. If I’m not turned on by my work, I’m not doing it right. <g> Perhaps in any other situation, this would be the mark of egotism, but not when it comes to writing. For how can we expect people to enjoy our work if we ourselves don’t enjoy it? But how do we judge our own work? We’re too close to the situation, we can’t be objective, etc. Well, unlike many other things, writing smut is one of the few things that I actually get =more= sensitive to the closer I am to the situation. Hence, the HOTface. <g> If I’m bored by the sexual details I’m describing, it’s almost a guarantee that the next person won’t find it much more interesting.
If we’re not going to try to make it hot, there’s no point in writing graphic sex at all. And if sex needs to be in a story but either doesn’t need to be graphic or you don’t feel like making it hot, then use the old “...and they loved each other till morning” trick. I’m not saying we HAVE to write detailed illustration about goes went on between the sheets; I’m simply saying that if we are =going= to write sex—graphic sex—then it seems to me that it ought to be warranted.
Boy, I’m an opinionated, unreasonable bi-ach, aren’t I? Demanding that people write hot sex. Honestly. As if there are concrete guidelines for what “hot” is. You’re absolutely right; in the eye of the beholder and all that. But when a story reads as if the writer was bored when s/he was writing it, it makes me wonder if there are people who feel like they have to write graphic sex when they don’t. I can think of several stories in which I personally thought the sex was out of place and unnecessary—and then it wasn’t even HOT. And that was aggravating. <g>
I believe that there is no half way. People who don’t want to read graphic sex will either pick a story without that “NC-17 for descriptive sexual acts” rating, skip past the sex, or would rather see “...and they fell between the sheets” to describe the full act. Now the other side of the coin, there are people who enjoy reading smut, and my experience has been that those people want the smut to be hot. “Hot” does not (necessarily) mean bizarre, unusual, risque. Hot means “DAMN I wish I were doing that right now.” <eg>
Maybe some people avoid writing it because when we write, the words at times appear trite, overused, done, cheesy. I hope this doesn’t come as a surprise, but—well, they HAVE been used. It HAS been done. There are only so many ways to describe a sexual encounter. In the most common scenarios, we’re limited by the body parts the characters have and the functions of those parts. <g>
However, I don’t think we should be afraid of going where many other writers—out of necessity—have gone. I like to revisit favorite smut stories or favorite smutty scenes in stories. What I always rediscover is that we all have the same raw material to work with—the same characters, the same language, the same body parts. And in most cases, the scenery is pretty run-of-the-mill: a bedroom, a motel room, a shower. So if these writers can take these elements—that we all possess—and make it good, then so can we. I’ll at least try. I realize each time that it’s a lot different to =read= smut, caught up in a story, than it is to write it, when each step seems incremental and significant. Sadly, the fact that you spent the last hour perfecting the way to describe Scully’s lips is devoured by the reader in 0.5 seconds (that was hyperbole; I hope no one actually takes that long...). But that’s okay, because that means that you can just get on with the rest of the writing.
Besides, no one really expects me or you to come up with a smut scenario that no one else has ever thought of in the history of fiction or reality. As I’ve said before, there is only so much that can happen between two sexual partners, and someone somewhere has already written about it. Embrace this fact! Be relieved! No pressure on originality. <g>
In any case, it’s my belief that the primary satisfaction from reading smut stems from the events surrounding the story and the mindset of each of the characters. So, to make an obvious point, a good story will make the sex better. Smut taken out of context, or without the benefit of discovering at some point the emotional resonance for the characters, isn’t as enjoyable—at least, for me. There are certain stories that don’t have particularly steamy turns of phrases nor exciting new ways that Mulder and Scully explore their sexuality. But the events that have been woven surrounding the act(s) make it meaningful, intense, and yes, hot.
Ultimately, the most satisfying part of a story is to see the Mulder/Scully relationship impacted and to see it progress—many times, that has been the point when our two heroes are given the go ahead to begin a physical relationship, which, in most cases, also symbolizes the crossing of an emotional plateau.
So let us go forth and bask wantonly in the erotica we produce, and keep our fingers crossed for the “lost” episode of The X-Files on pay-per-view.
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