Stephen King; a rant

Dear Mr King, you are an excellent writer. So much so that many people would have never read any of your books but would still know the literature; It, The Shining, The Shawshank Redemption, Pet Semetary, the list goes on. You have written across many genres, tending to stick to a thrilling grip on the reader as horrors and traumas are displayed with an intimate touch to them, both human and supernatural. But nothing takes me out of a book faster than a step-by-step guide on how to have sex, especially when it reads like a Brooklynite gym teacher narrating the whole act.

I understand it is a style choice, but I would first like to talk about the valid reasons behind including a sex scene, both filmically and literarily. Sex scenes induce intimacy, a level of connection between audience and author that conveys a myriad of messages: is this an important event in their life that requires disgusting detail, a rape scene; is this the moment the narrative has been building up to, the culmination of a flirtatious dance?

Definitely one of my favourite uses is Breaking Bad’s pilot. Earlier in the episode, Skylar gives Walt a birthday handjob, a moment which takes its time as a young sexual act is displayed so casually, the pair talking about their weekly plans as the deed is done. Skyler is literally on her laptop in the middle of a bidding war. Very unintimate. After Walt returns from his first cook with Jesse, he has sex with Skylar in what is mostly a single, unbroken shot. Walt is silent and dominating, very different from the talkative doughy middle-aged man seen earlier. The scene isn’t meant to show how close Walt and Skylar are, but the inverse is true: Walt and Skylar’s relationship will never be the same again after that day. Walt is a changed man and for the first time in a long time, he has felt true power. By bringing the pair physically closer they are spiritually further apart.

Let’s return to style. Yes, there are so many instances across many literary areas where an author decides to be detailed. One of my favourite genres, cyberpunk, is littered with anatomized birds and bees, the odd robotic arm entering the fold. And I have never really enjoyed it. I’m not a fan of reading awkward dirty talk, or hearing about how big an appendage is (or, if the perspectives are reversed, how much moisture is in a specific area). I don’t really want to read about tempo, about the various positions, about whether it lands on a back or on the sheets.

The keyword, for me, is reading. Although sex scenes can be just as awkward on screen (especially on set), they are certainly much less awkward to experience. An important element is that film isn’t dictated by the audience. Whether you are watching or not, a film will continue. You can miss shots, lines, hidden info in the background. But a book, YOU must read it. You dictate the pace of the scene as you read and re-read paragraphs. You can’t hide from the scene unless you skip about, a dangerous practice considering the amount of important narrative information hidden amongst the vulgarity.

Am I conservative because I don’t like reading these words? I don’t think so, but I do believe that the author’s perspective greatly affects my own. Generally speaking (and from my own experience), male authors find joy in the act itself as they treat it like an action scene while female authors generally use the act as a narrative point without the need for pornographic elation. There are obviously outliers, but there has always been a more delicate touch to the sex scene when a woman is at the wheel instead of a man (surprise, surprise).

Ironically, we have reached the point where Fifty Shades of Grey sticks its hand up to defy my opinionated generalisation. I have neither read the books nor watched the films and they are on the list to get to as I am curious about their following, but from the brief content I have seen I could see this being a reality: E. L. James wrote Fifty Shades emotionally driven but still physical while most male-led literature tends to objectify the partner and the act instead of furthering emotional investment. I tend to feel the same way when I compare Sally Rooney's and Gillian Flynn's moments of intimacy against King's and George R. R. Martin's descriptions of power.

I don’t know how I would approach writing such a scene. I would like to think that I will follow Rooney’s direct style, glossing over the nitty gritty details in favour of the emotional highlights, never lingering longer than a couple paragraphs until the crescendo. Is it rude to assume I can write as well as a woman without experiencing their unique perspective of the world? Maybe. I have my own perspectives and I need to channel those views into a vision. I have always like the idea of implying it without ever seeing it, maybe a kiss that lingers or a shot of the protagonist walking through his mistress’s apartment door. It’s a bit like a magic trick: if I know where everything goes and how it gets there, I no longer enjoy the show.

P.S. I love your work, Mr King.