Why Your Book Needs a Sex Scene (or Seven)

Rachel Woe
SistersInSmut
Published in
4 min readAug 14, 2019

As is the case on most days ending in Y, the erotica genre has been brushed aside on social media by those arguing that sex scenes in books are not only distasteful, but superfluous.

In case you haven’t heard, sex scenes are the mark of inexperienced, lazy writers (spoken by someone who’s clearly never tried to write one).

According to this particular brand of critic, sex scenes aren’t just passé, but specifically, “so 1970ish.” (Spoken by someone who probably hasn’t had sex since the 1970s.)

I’m sure you can imagine how well this criticism was received by our resident smut peddlers.

I’m not going to waste time refuting each ill-conceived point individually. Rather, I’m going to tell you why you SHOULD include a sex scene (or two…or three) in your novel.

Intimacy reveals character.

Sex in fiction is about more than titillation, though that’s arguably one of the best parts. Regardless of genre, sex strips your characters bare, and I’m not just talking nudity. Who they are in private is just as revealing as who they are in public.

And it doesn’t get much more private than behind the bedroom door.

Think about your work in progress, or the last project you worked on. Is your protagonist the sort of person who can laugh during sex, or are they more likely to freeze up with embarrassment? Do they care about their partner’s pleasure, or are they just in it for themselves? What or whom do they fantasize about?

Whether alone or with a partner, how your characters approach intimacy and pleasure says a lot about who they are and how they relate to others.

Let’s say you’ve written a character with serious trust issues. It’s going to take a lot to get them to a place where they feel comfortable enough to have sex with someone.

Of course, you’ll want to include the mental push-pull leading up to the sexual act, but you’re missing out on a lot of juicy internal conflict by fading to black. Showing the reader how those trust issues impact your character at a moment when they’re supposed to be raw and open is the stuff good drama is made of.

Simply put, it’s like stumbling upon a conflict goldmine and then leaving the cave empty handed.

It works the other way around, too: a character who has no problem connecting physically, while struggling to open up emotionally, is going to be a different animal in bed than someone who wears their heart on their sleeve. They’re going to have different priorities and expectations for themselves and their partners.

Consciously avoiding what happens in your characters’ sex lives is a missed opportunity, not just for characterization, but for growth.

Maybe you’ve written a character whose arc is all about learning how to assert themselves. You’ve carefully plotted their darkly funny, compelling arc to self-assurance, showcasing the ways in which they let the people in their lives steamroll right over them.

Now, imagine how a person like that would behave in bed.

The obvious choice would be to have them carry that trait into the bedroom. Have them lie there and think of England as their partner moans and grunts their way to completion.

However, our sexual cravings often run counter to our everyday behavior patterns. Maybe this character gets a taste for Topping and begins taking charge in the bedroom. Such a development could serve as a symptom of, or perhaps even a catalyst for, becoming more assertive in their profession.

You’ll never know if you close the door before the cuffs come out!

Fun fact: sexual awakening is a common theme among Virgin’s Promise archetypal journeys. You can read more about these stories of personal, sexual, and creative actualization here.

The personal is political: sex scenes as representation.

Now, more than ever, we need to see positive examples of diverse sexuality in media, with an emphasis on #ownvoices narratives.

Marginalized groups’ sexualities have long been fetishized for entertainment. Presenting one’s sexuality in a way that’s honest and respectful — with an emphasis on pleasure that’s rarely seen in mainstream media — can be a truly transgressive act.

I want to read stories about the kinky fat girl who goes after what she wants and struts home the next morning feeling victorious. Give me a tale about a trans man who gets the girl and then gives her earth-shattering orgasms all night long.

Show me stories that open our eyes to the breadth and variety of pleasure available to us as humans. Stories that represent all of us, and give us permission to be sexual in a world that would rather segregate us to a teeny, tiny corner in the darkest closets of Pornhub.

If you’re having trouble writing sex scenes or want tips on where to start, I highly recommend The Joy of Writing Sex by Elizabeth Benedict. It’s filled to bursting with great examples of well written sex in fiction.

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Rachel Woe
SistersInSmut

Author of erotic & romantic fiction. Book whore. Forbidden love junkie. Won’t yuck your yum. Connect with her on Twitter @storyofwoe and at rachelwoe.com