To Spooge or Not to Spooge

Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer through euphemisms
Or to be flung out of the story by unsexy word choices

I most humbly beg the Bard’s apologies. Now, there was a man who was a master at word choices. And he didn’t hesitate to play with the language, making nouns work as verbs and vice-versa.

But there it is. There are those words, like the aforementioned, that for me are so unsexy they fling me right out of the steamiest scene when I’m reading or writing. Yes, sometimes awkward, less-than-burning-a-hole-in-the-mattress sex is okay or may even be necessary to move the story forward and laughing in bed is great, but for me, the author’s word choices can really make or break a reading experience.

I know as m/m authors we do have it easy in some respects (if not in the pronoun department). I feel sorry for the writers of het or f/f erotica because call it a cunt or a pussy and you’re going to piss off lots of readers either way. At least we get to have cocks, pricks, dicks and balls making up a lot of our noun usage. Usually I figure if I stay away from mentioning rosebuds or starfish, I’m pretty safe in my descriptions of the receptive part of anal sex.

When it comes to mouths, especially when kissing, man, does it get tough. Is a wet cave a really sexy thought? Yet how many times can the words tongue, lips and mouth be used in a paragraph before a reader’s eyes glaze over?

I’m not claiming to be Saki (who supposedly agonized over each and every word in his writing—which is probably why he’s famous for his short stories), but in the course of putting the people in my head onto a page, I do give careful consideration to the connotations as well as the denotations of words, aiming for the best connection with as many readers as possible.

As if that weren’t enough fun to do in contemporary prose, I’ve been bitten by the urge to write historical m/m for a Christmas novella. Finding sexy, non-euphemistic (hey, they’re still guys), varied and historically accurate turns of phrase on a subject that doesn’t make it into most of the research books available on the nineteenth century is keeping my brain and my dictionary (the one with usage dates) very well-oiled. (Go ahead. Smirk at the double meaning. I’ll wait here.)

Even if I occasionally fail and provide readers with an unintentionally humorous and unsexy phrase, I do scrutinize my word choices in all different kinds of scenes, and remind myself that I can’t please everyone. One man’s spooge is another man’s spilled seed, after all. And in case you were curious, spunk (in that context) has been around since the early nineteenth century, though I don’t know if either of my heroes would be inclined to use it (the word I mean).

If you’re interested in my checking out my historical word choices, an unedited first chapter is available on my live journal.