New Openings

Hey readers,

So, since last you heard from me regarding the novel, I've done what is suggested and let it sit, undisturbed, while I try and focus on other things. The goal was to distance myself from it so I can return fresh, and for the most part it's worked. Granted, nobody told me how difficult it is to stop thinking about a story you've been obsessed with and engrossed by for so long, nor how difficult it is to write something new.

I failed in writing something new, I'm afraid. The closest I've come is a few short paragraphs in what could be a new short story, but further details remain largely elusive. It's a story about childhood, though, and childhood fears coming back fresh and less imaginary as one would hope. It's about what remains hidden beyond the mundane monotony of adult life. Who knows, maybe it'll turn into something!

Onto bigger news, though. I recently had a chat with my friend Helen, the fantastic friend who so graciously is editing Lucian. She should be done within the next few weeks, at which point it'll be time to begin the long-awaited edit at last. I go once more onto the breach, dear friends, with some degree of excitement. It's finally time to return to that world of cobblestones and clockwork, and I feel a bit like Harry returning to Hogwarts after the summer holidays. It's time to go home.

What surprised me about this conversation with Helen was her suggestion to write a new opening to Lucian. I've always had problems with the opening, it's true, though could never pinpoint exactly what my issue was. This is why Helen is so great at editing - she can see what is missing from the story, see the wood for the trees as it were. Within half an hour, we had hashed out a brand new opening, several chapters worth of story I had previously overlooked.

Planning the new additions

I can't tell you just how excited I am about this. I've long said, half-jokingly, that stories are found objects (other writers agree - in the foreword to The Color Purple, Alice Walker describes herself as a medium for the pre-existing characters, while in On Writing Stephen King describes stories as fossils, waiting to be excavated). This new opening feels like it has always existed, unknown to me, but fitting perfectly in with the story as it exists now. It better represents my main character, David, as sympathetic, and grounds his reality prior to his run-in with Lucian and the surreal in such a manner that, I think, it will lead to a greater understanding of just who David is and why he makes the choices he does.

I've been researching this new opening for the past few days, as there's some factual details to iron out, but I think it's going well. With any luck I'll be ready to begin writing it in a few days, at which point I'll be able to move on with the editing as planned.

So here's to exciting times ahead. I'll do my best to keep this blog up to date with my progress with both this new opening and the edits as well. Hopefully you'll find the process interesting. Meanwhile, if there's anything you'd like to know about the process, or about my writing in general, just let me know in the comments below or through the usual channels. I'm happy to take any suggestions, as always!

Until next time, readers.

Matt

Sex in Young Adult Fiction

'Romeo + Juliet' (1996)

In the next few days, I will be writing a scene for Lucian which has been on my mind for quite a while. It's one of those pivotal, milestone scenes, the ones that feel like a long time coming and, when they do, you're left feeling like a little part of you has washed away with them. If the title didn't already give it away, let me spell it out for you. I'll be writing a sex scene.

I write chiefly for the Young Adult market, and Lucian is aimed at the mid to upper bracket - those late teens who have already experienced sex, or are about to. I recently found a 2009 article in the New York Times which said that 47.8 percent of High School students have had sex, and while this number is down from previous years, it's still higher than I would have expected. Teenagers know sex. Sex is a huge part of the life of any teenager, and if writing is truly about honesty, then sex isn't something that can be avoided.

I'm not saying that every Young Adult novel should have a sex scene, far from it. However as with fiction of any genre, if a sex scene is important to the plot, whether the natural progression of a relationship or the one night fling of a distraught character, then sex can find a place. I've read plenty of terrible sex scenes in my time - ones which have absolutely no place in the story other than to sell a few more copies. Horror writer James Herbert immediately springs to mind, it seems his characters are constantly having sex. I remember one novel in which a succubus fellates the main character in his sleep. After much thought, I think the sex scene in Lucian is crucial.

Why is so crucial? Because it comes from a moment of fear and desperation, at the cusp of the day everything in the novel has been leading up to. David, my main character, is afraid. He's afraid he won't be able to do what is required of him, what he is destined to do, to save the day from an enemy which knows no reason. In fact, he doesn't even know what is required of him, having to rely on faith and fate and the ambiguous riddles of more powerful beings than he.

David's always had self-esteem issues, so having this destiny thrust upon him, and having to appear to be strong and confident, takes its toll. There comes a moment, on the eve of his destiny, that he cannot pretend anymore. He cannot act like a saviour anymore. He finds comfort in his girlfriend, Aurora, who he has fallen for over the course of the novel. There's a touch of fate in their relationship too -- she has a part of play in the coming events, as do they all.

Afraid that he won't be able to protect the ones he loves, David breaks down, and Aurora is there to pick up the pieces. In her effort to comfort him they kiss, and it goes from there. It's a break in the tension, not only for David's worries but for his relationship with Aurora. They both need this catharsis, need the consummation of their relationship. It's entirely unexpected, as sex often is, and it's their first time. It's awkward, and he feels like he cannot stop shaking, but that doesn't matter. What matters is the emotions that pass between them, the taste of tears, the need for each other.

The scene won't be graphic, of course -- no Fifty Shades of Grey here. That isn't what the scene is about. The scene is about the emotions, the catharsis, and most of all the honesty. Aurora and David love each other, they trust each other, and that is what counts. If I didn't feel the scene was necessary I wouldn't write it, and if I don't feel it works when I'm redrafting, I'll cut it.

Literary Agent Sara Crowe wrote an interesting article on sex in Young Adult literature, and lists a few great examples. This is one of my favourites. Although I've never read it, the following is an extract from Jenny Downham's novel Before I Die, in which the terminally ill main character Tessa puts sex on her 'bucket list'. This is her first time, a one night stand with a boy she met at a club.

He lies down, moves my legs apart with his, presses closer, his weight on top of me. Soon I’ll feel him inside me and I’ll know what all the fuss is about. This was my idea.
I notice lots of things while the red neon numbers on his radio alarm move from 3:15 to 3:19. I notice that his shoes are on their side by the door…
He supports himself with his arms, moving slowly above me, his face turned to one side, his eyes tight shut. This is it. It’s really happening. I’m living it now. Sex. (25)

Notice how, in this scene, the most important thing about Tessa's experience is her disassociation with what is happening. This isn't romance, this isn't erotica; this is sex for the sake of it, another thing on the bucket list. What I love here is the focus on everything but the sex -- the numbers on the alarm clock, the seconds ticking away; the boy's face turned away from her's. It's really happening, she's living it, but Tessa's mind couldn't be further away from it if she tried.

Later, now close to dying, Tessa has sex a final time, and this time she's in love.

His hand slides to my waist to my belly to the top of my thigh. His kisses follow his hand, work their way down until his head is between my legs and then he looks at me, asking permission with his eyes.
It spills me, the thought of him kissing me there.
His head is in shadow, his arms scooped under my legs. His breath is warm on my thighs. He very slowly begins.
If I could buck, I would. If I could howl at the moon, then I would. To feel this, when I’d thought it was over, when my body’s closing down and I thought I’d have no pleasure from it again.
I am blessed.

This time the emotions are what is important, and Tessa is really living it. Every moment counts. This is the kind of scene I plan to write, focused on the moment.

I've written one line of my scene, quite a while ago -- perhaps the end of it, before we fade to black. This is what I've written, and it could change.

They rose and fell with each other, letting themselves become lost to the pain, and the fear, and the sadness of it all, until nothing existed but them, in that moment, alone.

Here's hoping I do the scene justice.

If you are a fellow writer, have you written a sex scene before? If so, was it graphic, or more tame? Why was it necessary? I'm interested to hear about your experiences with writing, so sound off in the comments below. As usual, thank you for reading! Until next time.

Matt