The Speculative Scotsman is on vacation in America. He's taking the unlikely tour of the American South for his first trip to the States. To keep his blog alive and well during his absence, Niall asked me to write a post for him. Ok, he also asked like twenty other people many of whom have already had their posts run, but for the purposes of this particular write up let's assume he only asked me because he thinks I'm the best. I think Niall would have preferred me to write something professional and well thought out. Maybe a review or a post about genre stuff. I did no such thing; I wrote about sex (not gender).
Oh, and if for some reason you're following MY blog, and NOT Niall's, you should definitely remedy that situation when you click through to read the rest of my "article". Enjoy!
Sex. Dirty, icky, squishy, sloppy, romantic, loving, and harmoanious (sic) sex. Most fantasy novels have it to one degree or another, but very few seem to get it right. Ask any author, what's the hardest thing to write? Most of them, I suspect, would answer sex. Although, Sam Sykes would probably say something like words. Smart asses aside, sex is hard because everyone's had it. Unlike sword fights, or politics, or horse riding, sex is a universal experience. If an author gets it wrong, readers will know it on a visceral level.
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