
Kilt Kilpatrick is the pen name of an Irish erotica author sometimes called “the Ferris Bueller of San Francisco.” He is also a nonfiction writer, public speaker, Bay Area event organizer, and somewhat oxymoronically, a biblical historian and atheist activist. He speaks Irish Gaelic and bits and pieces of about two dozen other languages. He loves reading, movies, dancing, sex, and has been swordfighting for over 25 years. He lives in San Francisco with his steady girlfriend and no. 1 fencing partner, author Inara Lavey. And yes, he does wear kilts. If you know anybody like that, it’s probably him.
Writing Outside of Your Comfort Zone
Hello. I am a gay male erotica novelist. Try saying that with me. Does it makes you squirm a little? No? Well, good for you! But let me talk to the rest of the class for a sec. If the phrase “I am a gay male erotica novelist” doesn’t come tripping easily off your tongue, perhaps you’re a straight female. Or maybe you’re a gay male, who isn’t quite ready to tell the world yet. Or maybe you’re like me, a more or less ordinary straight male with the obligatory thing for lesbians who somehow managed to find himself a bona fide published gay male erotica novelist. Maybe your particular squirm-provocation has nothing to do with writing gay male erotica at all. But whoever and whatever you are, my fellow squirmarinos, welcome to the club! Come join the ranks of intrepid authors who have stepped out of their comfort zone.
How did I get here, anyway? I’ve always thought of myself as a biblical historian and atheist activist (and incidentally, how’s that combo for working outside your comfort zone?) but in that unexpected tail-wagging-the-dog sort of phenomena that life is so good about throwing at us, while waiting to hear back from publishers on my non-fiction writing, I wrote a few short stories for Ravenous Romance, who had liked my girlfriend’s writing enough to publish them. Long story short, after they had published a few of mine, they asked me if I would write a novel (50,000 words! Yikes!) – a romance novel (Erk! What did I know about romance? I only wrote smut!*) – and if those weren’t enough deal killers already, what they really wanted from me was a GAY MALE. ROMANCE. NOVEL.
* Okay, not technically true, but still.
And so I did. The End. Just kidding. But to be honest, the simple fact is, there’s not a lot to say about HOW to write outside your comfort zone – it’s a state of mind. You simply have to mentally give yourself the permission to do it. And what do you know? Turns out when you do, it’s a brilliant life lesson, with transferable skills to the non-writing portions of your life, assuming you have any, of course. So how do we do that?
Stepping out of your comfort zone is an exercise in courage. Fear evolved in our brains to help keep us safe from things like sabretooth tigers and dying of embarrassment in our social circle. So there’s no shame in being afraid; it’s just something you have to overcome when it’s keeping you from doing what needs to be done in the cold cruel real world. After all, a ship is safest when it’s in a harbor… but that’s not what ships are for. Here’s some helpful tidbits of wisdom I’ve gleaned off the internet over the years to help you step out of that cozy warm trap in your head:
“Do one thing everyday that scares you.” -Eleanor Roosevelt
“Make a fool of yourself. One of the biggest things that holds many of us back is our fear of what people think. After all, you don’t want people to think you’re weird or rude or creepy or obnoxious or annoying, do you? But wait — think about the most lovable, magnetic people you’ve come across in your life. Odds are, they weren’t the meek, agreeable people who are reliably pleasant to be around. They were the people who were crazy and charming. People who blurted out silly, maybe inappropriate things, or who made huge, slap-your-forehead mistakes, or who were over the top most of the time, but others forgave them for being less than perfect and in fact, liked them for it. So shatter your concern for what people think of you. You’re allowed to be less than perfect, and you may find that people like you more for it, because it makes you a more exciting person to be around. Get laughed at, laugh with ‘em. Do something you normally wouldn’t do for fear of looking like an idiot. Be that idiot. You’ll be fine.” -source unknown
“Become comfortable with taking risks. Your comfort zone is comfortable because it’s where you know what to expect. Going out on a limb can be scary because you might fail. You might lose something. But you might also gain something, too…” -source unknown
Experiment – Doing the safe thing as a writer only leads to stagnation.
“Without deviation from the norm, progress is not possible.” -Frank Zappa
“When you decide to do something, do it for its own sake, not so that you can get a particular result. If you gamble, gamble with money you’re ready and willing to lose; gamble for the fun and exhilaration of gambling. If you win, that’s icing on the cake! But if you lose, no big deal. In other words, let go of your attachment to a certain outcome; instead, focus on the joy of doing whatever you’re doing. Live in the moment.
“When things don’t go your way, and they won’t, shrug it off. If you’re clinging to your comfort zone, you’re hanging on to an idea that the world is supposed to be a safe, predictable place, and that’s an illusion. You’re setting yourself up for frustration and disappointment. Open your eyes. The world is a dynamic place where things go right and wrong. That’s just the way it is!
“Enjoy the unknown. When’s the last time you felt excited about not knowing what was going to happen next? If you’re deep in your comfort zone, it’s probably been a while. Don’t you miss it? Don’t you miss the mixture of anticipation and anxiety that makes your heart flutter and stomach turn at the same time? Bring that feeling back into your life.” -source unknown
LITANY AGAINST FEAR
I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.
Bene Gesserit Litany Against Fear – From Frank Herbert’s Dune Series
So go out there and take some chances with your writing. Stretch your imagination. Don’t worry if you’re the wrong person for the job. After all, almost everyone writing vampire novels is a mere mortal, as far as we know. Straight women can write lesbian fiction (and vice versa) Strait-laced writers can write wild sexy romps. And straight men can write gay erotica that doesn’t suck – at least, doesn’t suck in the bad way… Now go out there and get to it!
All the best,
-Kilt Kilpatrick
P.S. Still not sure if a straight man can really write gay erotica? Try this excerpt and let me know what you think:
Liam carefully extricated himself and knelt down to kiss me again. “That was amazing,” he groaned again. “Now come up here so I can do bad things to you.”
He helped me back up onto the bed, and sat down beside me. But then the next thing I knew, he swiftly scooped me up, cradling me to his chest like I was his baby with my backside in his lap and my legs dangling from his arms. Oh Daddy…. He kissed me some more and I had never been happier. I wrapped my free arm around the nape of his neck, reveling in his attention. We kept kissing as I felt his hand tugging my underwear down and off, so that I was bare-assed in his lap, feeling the snug warmth of his cock on my skin. He reached his hand between my legs and began caressing my balls and the shaft of my engorged, trembling dick. Then he ran his hand lower, stroking the sensitive skin below my balls and finally sliding down between the cheeks of my ass. He removed his hand to lick his finger, then started to massage my hole with gentle but firm circular movements. “I want to fuck you now,” he whispered in my ear at last. His words made me so horny I nearly came right there in his arms.
In a perfect world, right then some handy lube would have magically appeared in the nightstand drawer, but the boring truth is we had to stop what we were doing, cuss up a storm and look around for some. We had no commercial stuff; we vowed never to be without any in the future. “Well, there’s some suntan lotion in the medicine chest,” Liam called from the bathroom. I was a little dubious about that, and we both started searching the kitchen. We found truffle oil, which was way too expensive; briefly considered some butter substitute or slicing off a piece of the aloe vera plant on the counter, but then I found some olive oil.
“You think this will work?” I asked him.
“Let me look at the label—oh yes, perfect; it’s virgin olive oil.”
“Funny guy.” But I was done quibbling and ready to get fucked already. We ran back to the bed and he poured some into his hands. “Now lie down and roll over,” he told me. I did what the man said, trembling with anticipation and feeling girly. He sat up on his knees, and I watched up close as he oiled up his rod; the oil glistened and smelled like basil; a smell I had never found particularly erotic before, but would forever after now. Then he poured out a bit more, and warmed it up in his fingers. With a serene smile, he leaned over me and slipped his slick fingers between my ass cheeks.
It was my turn to groan as he worked his thumb up and down my taint and made tight circles with his fingers over my virgin rosebud. He took his time; slowly, firmly massaging me. With his free hand he drizzled some more oil and let it run down my crack to his busy fingers. The combination of pleasure and further anticipation was making me moan like a cat in heat when I felt his finger enter. I caught my breath, and then he began to push it in and out in a slow, sensuous rhythm and I had to close my eyes from the delicious torment. He tenderly edged a second finger in and moved them both back and forth in me.
He kept this up with great patience, gauging my reactions with a scientist’s careful eye. I sighed when he pulled his fingers out and leaned in close to my ear.
“Are you ready for more?”
I nodded, deliriously mute. He spread my legs apart further.
“Why don’t you get up on all fours for me?” I did just that, my limbs feeling shaky and rubbery—except for my dick, which was rock hard, quivering for what was coming next. I turned and took one last glance over my shoulder to watch him get into position behind me…
From The Manny Diaries by Kilt Kilpatrick
Links:
The Manny Diaries:
http://www.ravenousromance.com/m/m/the-manny-diaries.php
Reach Out & Touch Someone:
http://www.ravenousromance.com/m/m/reach-out-and-touch-someone.php
Facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/?tid=1573879196112&sk=messages#!/pages/Kilt-Kilpatrick/160928497477?ref=ts
RR Author Page:
http://www.ravenousromance.com/component/option,com_author/Itemid,70/id,199/lang,en/task,view/


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