In addition to writing erotic romance, I’m an avid reader.
And sometimes, when my favorite authors are being slow in giving me new
material, I turn to the internet to find new material.
Sometimes I hit gold – hello, Laura Kaye! – and sometimes I
don’t. This week, gold was in short supply. I won’t name names, because I’m not
here to jump all over other authors. And frankly, what doesn’t suit me as a
reader will undoubtedly suit others. That’s the beauty of this wild and
wonderful world we live in; there is something for everyone. But this
particular book struck me as almost unbearably awkward. Not the premise, that
was actually quite good. But the way it was written? *shudder* There were lots of times where phrasing or
word choice worked to pull me away from the story rather than pull me deeper
into it, making it difficult to continue reading. For example, the use of the word
‘jism’. Cue gag reflex – this is NOT a word I want to read in a sex scene. EVER.
Though to be fair, I may be more sensitive about word choice
than other readers - and don't get me started on how nuts I can be over it as a writer. I once had a week long
fight with my editor over the use of the word ‘cunt’. You see, the Powers That
Were at my old publisher had decreed that this was a Bad Word, only to be used
in dialogue, and only by a male character. It could not appear in descriptive
prose, and it could not cross the lips of a female character. It was deemed too
crass, and potentially offensive. And I get the offensive bit – lots of people,
especially women, dislike that word as its often used pejoratively. But here’s
the thing; I chose that word for a reason, and when they told me to change it to
something more acceptable like ‘pussy’? Well, I sort of had a fit about it.
Because those two words may be describing the same thing,
but they are Not The Same ™. They don’t elicit the same emotion from the
reader, and that was the whole point. I chose the word I did because it fit the
scene, it fit how the people in the scene felt about what they were doing, and
if I replaced it I was undercutting all of that. Watering it down, if you will.
And I resisted – MIGHTILY.
I eventually caved, and rewrote a few sentences to fit
within the guidelines and still convey what I wanted to. I wasn’t thrilled
about it (a dozen years later, it still chaps my ass), but it was a good lesson
for me. I figured out a way to make the publisher happy and still get across
what I needed to, and things like that make one grow as an author. And I
figured out that when you put your editor through hell, you send her chocolate
afterwards, because really, her job is hard enough. And I learned that no
matter how much I like what I’ve
written, there will be people who don’t like it, and I might have to compromise
to get what I ultimately want.
The author of the Awkward Book? Maybe she really felt that ‘jism’
was the best word to convey the emotion and state of mind of her characters.
Maybe she felt the same way I did about the word ‘cunt’. Maybe nobody else shuddered
in distaste when they read it. Who knows?
I did finish the book, though I cringed every time the J
word popped up – and yes, it popped up more than once. And trigger words aside,
it wasn’t a bad read. But I really hope I never see that word again, unless it’s
being said by a drunk frat boy who is then immediately shamed by everyone in
earshot.
I don’t think that’s too much to ask, do you?
