Fran Upman on Writing and the Good Parts:
When I read something, I want to be excited. Move me, baby, move me. Ever since my teenage years, I’ve often read for one reason only: to get to The Good Parts. And The Good Parts usually consisted of sex scenes or something related. How many people have a good fuck in them, how many writers in particular? Going on their written works (which admittedly may be very inexact), I’d say way too few. People who do have this–it’s almost as if they have a flashing neon sign on their foreheads that says, “Good Fuck Inside.” I usually KNOW who these people are; it oozes out their pores, out their crotches, out their ears, out their fingertips. Where are these oozers in the literary world? So many literary writers don’t seem to have a decent fuck in them, but is it any wonder when they might have polished-out any heat and heart their works may have contained? They seem to polish their sentences so much, so vigorously, that they’re ultimately abrading them into dullness. Where’s the life-spark, the sex-spark, the something-spark? Boring characters, flat dialogue, no body-language depictions–that’s primarily what I see in many literary genre books.