Filtering by Tag: PENISES

Fuck You, Pay Me #3: Scenes From My Life Writing a Porn Novel

This is part 3 of “Fuck You, Pay Me,” an ongoing series of posts on writing, editing, and publishing. Read the rest of the series: Part 1: How To Become a Writer in 12 Easy Steps, Part 2: The Pros and Cons of Traditional vs. Indie Publishing, Part 3: Scenes From My Life Writing a Porn Novel, Part 4: Why I Hate Memoirs (but Wrote One Anyway), Part 5: 19 Ways to Make Money as a Writer, Part 6: Letters From Johns Revisited, Part 7: Some of My Favorite Things I’ve Ever Written (Journalism Edition), Part 8: Some of My Favorite Things I’ve Ever Written (Fiction Edition), Part 9: How to Promote Your Book Without Going Crazy, Part 10: The Pornification of My Life, Part 11: How to Be More Creative, Part 12: The Fine Art of Applying to Writing Residencies, Part 13: How to Be a Consultant, Part 14: Cranking the Flywheel, Part 15: Why You Should Have a Newsletter, Part 16: An Excerpt From My Memoir, Part 17: How to Write a Short Story.

I’ve been working on what I refer to as my porn novel, and it’s been going pretty well. I thought I’d share a few things I’ve learned so far. If the novel keeps moving forward, there will be more posts like this to come. By the way, my novel isn’t porn, or smut, or romance. It’s literary. I call it my porn novel for the sake of shorthand.

  1. Do the math. There is nothing more daunting than writing a novel, so sometimes when I get overwhelmed, or stuck, or unsure, I quantify something that seems unquantifiable. You know, like a novel. So pretty early, I converted the project into numbers. The novel would be approximately 60,000 words long. It would consist of 12 chapters. Each chapter would be approximately 5,000 words long. Each chapter would consist of 10 sections. Each section would be approximately 500 words long. In this way, when I sit down to write, I’m writing another 500-word section of my novel, not attempting to write a novel that is 60,000-words long. Capiche?

  2. Do it your way. Last year, I went to an estate sale at a Hollywood art gallery. Some of what was being sold was vintage adult movie posters. I bought a poster for a porn movie called “She Did It Her Way.” In case you can’t read between the lines, I did not feel while writing a memoir while under contract to a major publisher that I was doing it my way, so in a way the writing of this novel is an effort to go back to what I used to do, which is to write what I want to write how I want to write it, not write what I think someone else wants me to write because that is what I feel I am contractually obligated to do. This novel is all about doing it my way. The other way is bullshit.

  3. Do weird shit. This novel is weird. I mean it’s written in English, but it certainly is very different. I don’t think it has any obvious comparisons in the world of novels, so I guess you could say it is quite original. Also, it has really weird stuff in it, like weird dreams, and a weird main character, and a weird kind of relentless focus on the life of a person in extreme detail to the point of being a little “Jeanne Dielman, 23 quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles”-esque. Do you know how many new books are published every year? I don’t either. But a lot. Secret: Most of them are garbage. Garbage or not, the only way to stand out from the crowd is to be weird.

  4. Don’t overthink it. One thing I’m having a fair amount of success with in regards to this novel is not overthinking it. In fact, I don’t even think about it that much when I’m not working on it. I bang out these 500-word sections in about an hour, and I try not to do more than one of them a day. I allowed myself to create a draft of the first chapter that was a little messy but not overly so, and I paid a lot of attention to not dwelling on it, not sitting at the computer for a long period of time, and not spending hours of my life wondering whether or not it’s any good. I mean, it’s about the porn industry. How bad could it be? Ha-ha.

  5. Don’t over revise. When I was done drafting the first chapter, which, I don’t know was done over the course of maybe a couple of weeks or a month or something, who knows, I can’t remember anymore, but not super long, I set it aside for a little bit. Then I decided I would go back and revise the first chapter. Revising my memoir was a bit of a nightmare, for reasons you may or may not be able to intuit, and I wasn’t sure when I went to revise this first chapter of my porn novel if that would be a nightmare, too. Thankfully, it wasn’t. I identified the issues pretty quickly and resolved them relatively easily. There are some things that need to be figured out and tweaked that have to do with the overall unspooling of the book, but I don’t think it will be some massive reinvention of the text. The only part I struggled a bit with was the last section of the first chapter. I’m not sure why. I’ll figure it out later.

  6. Don’t stop trying. Awhile back, I wrote this post about the story of my life as a writer, and I realized as I was writing it how impactful certain events had been. Not obvious life shit, but writer shit. Like the writing residency I did in upstate New York, and the fellowship I did at U.C. Berkeley, and the seminar I did in a Philip Johnson building in Manhattan. And as I was writing the post, I recalled very clearly that for every single one of those things I applied for I was very cognizant of the fact that I didn’t think I was going to get it. But then I did. So I thought, you know, I should apply for some writing residencies for my porn novel. And then I thought, Oh, no, they’ll never pick me because this novel is literary but it is also about porn, and sometimes porn makes people twitchy. Anyway, I applied to one and more to come. Because you gotta try.

  7. Decide to be transparent. If you have any awareness of me and my writing, you’ll know that I’ve tried to write this porn novel many times before, although always in different ways. This way feels different. I debated whether or not to share how it’s going at all, seeing as maybe I’ll just fail at it again, like all those other times. But then I thought, Fuck it. Who cares. One great thing about blogging is no one ever reads blogs anyway. This will be me, writing for me, about me. It will stand as a record of the point where I was now, and maybe at some point in the not-so-distant future I’ll look back on this and think: You go, girl.

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Rejections

About two years ago, I wrote a short story called “Spike.” It’s about a male porn star named Tripp Towers who has an erection that won’t go away. I’ve read it at multiple literary readings, and it always goes over very well. Yet, I have been unable to publish it. Here are a sampling of some of those rejections.

sky-dick.png

Dear Susannah,

Thank you for sending us "Spikes” [sic]. We appreciate the chance to read it. Unfortunately, this one isn't a match for us. That said, it is strong, interesting piece and I both wish you luck with it and encourage you to submit again.

Thanks again.

Sincerely,
[redacted]

Hi Susannah,

Thanks so much for submitting to [redacted], we really appreciate your taking the time to send us your work. Unfortunately this piece isn't quite right for us, but I hope you'll consider sending us more work in the future, if you'd like to.

Take care,

[redacted]

Dear Susannah,

Thank you for your submission. We are honored that you considered our journal as a potential home for your writing. Unfortunately, it doesn’t quite fit for us. Best of luck placing this elsewhere. We hope you will continue to support our journal in the future.

Sincerely,

[redacted]

Dear Susannah Breslin

Thank you for sending Spike our way. This one didn’t quite feel like a match for us, so we’re going to pass this time, but we enjoyed the read. I do hope Tripp’s ok!

Best of luck with this

[redacted]

Dear Susannah,
Thank you for sharing "Spike" with me. I enjoyed reading your work. Unfortunately, it is not right for [redacted].

I'd be happy to read more of your writing in the future—even though "Spike" won't work for [redacted], it's still well done.

Best of luck with your writing,

[redacted]

Dear Susannah Breslin:

Thank you for submitting your text. Unfortunately we will not be able to publish your submission in the [redacted] issue of [redacted] at this time. Nevertheless we encourage you to submit texts for future issues of [redacted] and are grateful for your support.

Thank you again for your submission.

Yours,
[redacted]

Dear Susannah Breslin,

Thank you for sending us "Spike" and I apologize for the unconscionably long time spent in responding to a piece you so generously sent our way. Unfortunately it is not a fit for us at this time, but we appreciate you sending it our way.

Thanks again for sharing your work. Best of luck with this.

Sincerely,

[redacted]

Dear Susannah Breslin,

Thank you for sending us your flash fiction story, "Spike". We appreciate the chance to consider it. Unfortunately, we're overwhelmed with submissions at the moment, and we've held onto this one longer than we should have, so we're regretfully declining it to give you a chance to try it elsewhere.

Apologies for the length of time we've held onto this story — this is our loss for not getting to your story more quickly. Best of luck placing your story elsewhere.

Sincerely,
[redacted]

Dear Susannah,

Thank you for sending us "Spike." While we appreciate the chance to read your story, I'm afraid it isn't a good fit for [redacted] this time. Thanks again for trusting us with your work. As writers ourselves, we know it's no small thing.

Sincerely,

[redacted]

Dear Susannah,

Thank you so much for sending "Spike" and letting me read it. Unfortunately, it's not quite right for us, but I would be glad to see more work from you in the future. In the meantime, best of luck in placing "Spike" elsewhere.

Sincerely,
[redacted]

Dear Susannah Breslin,

Thank you for sending us "Spike" for consideration in [redacted]. While we enjoyed reading your work, I’m sorry to say it isn’t a good fit for us at this time. It is clear you are a talented writer, and your story stood out from the group. However, we receive so many submissions that, in the end, we have to reject a lot of excellent pieces.

As writers ourselves, our editors know that the process of sending out work can be a long one. We are grateful that you chose to share your writing with us; your piece was read with great admiration and care. We wish you the best of luck with it, and we hope that you will keep us in mind for future submissions. Please do consider sending us more.

Sincerely,
Editors,
[redacted]

Dear Susannah,

Thank you for your submission of "Spike" to [redacted]. We gave the story careful consideration, and though we are not accepting it for publication, we hope you find a better fit for it elsewhere.

Thanks again for trusting us with your work, and thank you for reading [redacted].

All the best,
Editors
[redacted]

Dear Susannah,

We appreciate the chance to consider "Spike" but regret we were unable to find a place for it in the magazine.

With thanks and best wishes,
[redacted]

Get a copy of my acclaimed story, “The Tumor” … “a masterpiece of short fiction.”

The Couture Dangle

In a way, it's not that surprising that Rick Owens was the designer to send men with exposed genitalia sauntering (bouncing? promenading? wagging?) down the runway in Paris this week. After all, his moody, drapey, muted-toned clothing has an almost penis-like quality to it. Leave it too long, and it drags. For some reason, I missed it -- or I didn't really get it -- when I first perused the shots on Style.com. After all, it only looked like a glimpse of low-hanging ball. Much ado about a peek of testes didn't get much of a response from me. Then Amelia pointed out "The Hottest New Trend in Menswear Is Visible Dick," and that got my attention. Gawker exposed full-on-dong, and I understood we were looking at something different here. But what, um, was it? "The penises weren't the point of the show," The Cut chided. Then what was? According to Owens, "Boys with their dicks out is such a simple, primal, childish gesture." Agreed, but what does it mean? In hopes of phallus analysis, I turned to the New York Times, where the always annoying Guy Trebay coughed up: "By deliberately exposing a few pendant bits of flesh, Mr. Owens seemed to be suggesting how tenuous and vulnerable are the basis for what we think of as masculinity." Ah-ha. So man is only as strong as the thread of skin that attaches his balls. Personally, I thought that between the overwhelmingly dull feminist sloganisms at Acne Studios and the horrendous guys-in-granny-getups at Gucci, Owens felt like someone must remind everyone: We Are Men, and These Are Our Penises. We got it, Rick. We got the dicks.

Image via Style.com

Image via Style.com

Say, What?

"To do so, we're going to need to become a lot less squeamish when it comes to talking about the penis; here again, Amazons is extremely instructive. Others have described the book as 'penis-obsessed,' but to me it feels more 'penis-honest.' As a culture, we continue to possess a serious and seriously idiotic reluctance to spend much time considering male genitalia with much detail; it's always lurking but never shown. 'Full-frontal' is still fairly rare in any context outside of pornography, and it's basically non-existent when the male in question is aroused. Most books and movies seem to operate on the (very false) assumption that the penis is either soft or erect, as if it were manufactured and distributed in a one-size-fits-all commodity."

[The Awl]