I am beginning to sit down and write again, which is a very good feeling! Unfortunately, I’ve restarted @sapphomet‘s story multiple times in the past few days; in terms of word count, I’m actually getting negative yardage on my writing goals!
However, I’m not that concerned about output right now. Returning to WIPs after a hiatus gives me some perspective; it lets me gauge whether or not I’m actually content with my content. Do I like how the characters have been portrayed? Are the situations they are in acceptable? Are their reactions understandable?
Take “Good Judgement,” for example. There were originally far fewer feelings in the second act of the story, and the story descended into porn logic a lot quicker.
(“You have an unexpectedly large dick! That makes me horny.” “Yes, I do have an unexpectedly large dick. I, too, am horny. Would you like to fuck?”)
But after stepping away from the story for a few days, I realized that our straight-laced paladin wasn’t going to just immediately start fucking a stranger; there needed to be a bit more emotional work put into getting her to a place where should do the dirty.
So: more Feelings!
Now, I’m certain there are arguments that this effort was misplaced. For instances, the story still fundamentally operates on Porn Logic. Furthermore, if you’re looking for Porn, you might not want All These Feelings. And finally—and I think most damning—maybe you found the Feelings to be unconvincing or saccharine.
But! I think the final product was still stronger because of the time and effort I took to rewrite that critical “turn” in the story.
Currently, the story I’m writing for @sapphomet is about Daphne, a transwoman who is gifted a ring that transforms her into a succubus. I keep writing and re-writing the interaction between her-in-boy-mode and the benefactor who initially gives her the ring; the scene needs to do justice to a lot of different aspects of trans representation. I was happy with the dialogue I had initially written, but when I returned to the story this week, I realized that the scene was… stressful.
No one likes being backed into a corner, especially when it comes to revelations about your true identity, in your place of work, alone, in the middle of the night, as a vulnerable minority. So whatever I do end up writing, I need to do better than this.
(Also, “savoring the tension in the air like she savored her coffee” is so awful. It’s straight out of a 40s pulp novel. Which isn’t bad, but I’m not writing a 40s pulp novel!)