Image by Jonny Lindner from Pixabay
I
used to be such a good girl. I don’t know what happened.
In
the old days, I followed all the rules. I got straight As. I adhered
to the high school dress code. I was an expert at figuring out what
people wanted and giving it to them. In every area of my life, I
aimed to please.
How
did I get so contrary?
I
guess I got bored. Bored with the same old plots and characters, the
same tropes, conventions and clichés. Overwhelmed by ennui when I
looked at the best seller lists. The longer I spent in the world of
publishing, the more frustrated - even disgusted - I became by the
tyranny of genre and the overwhelming influence of whatever is
Currently Hot.
Over
the past two decades (has it really been that long?), I have
become progressively less interested in pleasing the masses. Instead,
I seem to have cultivated my own personal imp of the perverse.
In
the first vampire story I wrote for publication, my hero is a blond,
blue-eyed, Midwestern frat boy who doesn’t have Goth bone in his
undead body. Unlike Lestat, Edward Cullen or the many recent
incarnations of Dracula, he’s not in the least ancient or
world-weary – he became a vampire just five years before the tale
begins.
My
paranormal romance The Eyes of Bast turns
the traditional “shifter” paradigm on its head. The male
protagonist was actually born a cat. A sorceress gave him human form
in order to have a vehicle for satisfying her lusts. And if the
heroine succeeds in freeing him from the witch’s curse, will he
revert to his original feline nature? This is not a typical concern
in a shape-shifter tale.
In
reaction to the hundreds (thousands?) of gorgeous, athletic,
thirty-something Doms crowding the BDSM genre, I have stories that
feature a middle aged, overweight master and slave (“Never Too
Late”, in D&S Duos Book 2) and a dominant who’s half
paralyzed from a stroke. I’ve even started writing a tale where the
Dom is a quadriplegic, though so far I haven’t had the guts to push
that one very far.
Of
course, dominant billionaires and submissive virgins are all the
rage. So I’ve got a novel entitled The Gazillionaire and the Virgin in which the heroine’s
the one who’s richer than Croesus, and the hero is a brilliant nerd
with deep theoretical knowledge about sex but no actual experience.
Then there’s my other
billionaire themed tale, my
historical novella Challenge to Him,
about a filthy rich Gilded Age industrialist and an intellectual labor activist. Not exactly typical.
I
can’t blame anyone but myself. I’m just too contrary to write
what sells.
When
I see a call for submissions that seems worth my consideration, my
first thought is “how can I twist this into something different?”
This isn’t always the route to getting my work accepted. For
example, one editor just couldn’t see the Hindu goddess Parvati as
a succubus, despite her consuming the sexual energy of the aspiring
ascetic hero. I thought it was a great, original take on the theme,
but hey, that’s just me.
One
trope that’s been bugging me lately is the Natural Submissive. I’m
sure you’ve encountered her. Despite never having had any prior
experience with D/s, she surrenders immediately and completely to the
charismatic Dominant. Without training, she kneels with perfect grace
and wears her bonds without complaint. Oh, and she’s got incredible
pain tolerance, too, just what the nasty Dom likes. I can’t tell
you how many stories I’ve read recently where the dominant canes
the sub in the very first scene, despite the fact that caning is
quite an extreme form of discipline.
Now,
I’m somewhat guilty of this cliché myself, especially in my
earlier work. “You were born for this,” my slightly cheesy
dominant Gregory tells Kate in my first novel, Raw Silk. It’s
thrilling to believe that your Master can see through your everyday
facade to the kinkiness at your core. To be known – accepted –
valued because of one’s dirty desires – that’s intoxicating.
My
subs are always conflicted, though, unlike the classic Natural
Submissive. They’re shocked by their own behavior. Furthermore,
they’re not ready all at once for the worst the Dom can throw at
them (and of course the Dom knows this).
So
now I’m toying with the notion of writing a story where submission
most emphatically does not come naturally. I’m
thinking about a female character who really does want to be a
competent slave, but who keeps making mistakes – due not to lack of
motivation but lack of aptitude and training. Maybe she has joint
problems, so she can’t stand being on her knees or suspended from
the ceiling. Or perhaps she’s just a natural klutz. Her poor Dom is
actually embarrassed to take her to his favorite kink club. He loves
her, though, and appreciates her sincerity, so he can’t bear to
send her away.
Yeah,
I know. Sounds like another best seller, right?
Ah
well. At this point, I don’t have to prove anything to anyone. I’ve
reached official curmudgeon age, hence I have license to gripe with
impunity about “the industry”. And as long as I’m writing –
and enjoying the process – I’ll continue to seek originality over
marketability. That’s just the way I am.
