Consent
Consent is as fundamental in romance novels nowadays as a HEA.
The enthusiastic consent of your characters to whatever it is that they’re doing together is essential (even though it hasn’t always been that way).
And, while there are any number of ways we might criticise Fifty Shades of Grey (the book and/or the movie) what the movie did do, in one way, was to show how a couple negotiating boundaries via discussing the text of a contract could be smoking hot (although I still have an issue with that boardroom scene, which we’ll come back to in a minute).
Writing great consent
Writing sex is like juggling, there are many balls <tee hee hee, I said balls> to keep in the air. Specifically, when you’re writing consent you want to think about a couple of different things:
Explicit vs implicit consent
Explicit consent is generally consent that is spoken, while implicit consent is that shown by body language or enthusiasm.
Explicit consent doesn’t have to be clunky or awkward. For example:
He reached out to touch the bared skin at her middle, careful not to touch the device. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Free and over twenty-one. And randy as a rabbit.”
Hard Road Home (with love, from Kurrajong Crossing Book 3), Fiona Marsden
“You’ve had a lot to drink tonight. Are you sure this is what you want?”
The desire in her eyes morphed into disgruntled outrage in a matter of seconds.
“I know you’re trying to be a gentleman right now and I appreciate it, but I’m not so drunk that I’ll regret this tomorrow. I don’t want sweet West right now, I want the one who makes girls brag about the King of Campus giving them the best orgasm they’d ever had.”
Waiting to Score, Elouise Tynan
“Theo?” She said his name solemnly.
“Ana,” he replied gravely.
“Can you kiss me, please?”
His eyes sparkled, humour shining through the dark haze of desire. “It would be my pleasure.”
Protecting His Princess, Courtney Clark Michaels
Implicit consent is generally shown in body language or by enthusiasm. It should be reasonably overt, a clear nod, for example, or another action (like a kiss) in response to a request (like the below).
“You’re a rational man, Carter. I think you’d better kiss me good night.”
He leaned in, and he framed her face with his hands. Long fingers, she thought, cool against her skin. Eyes soft in colour, intense in expression holding hers. A moment, another, so that her heart already raced before his lips brushed hers.
Gentle, easy, so that her racing heart sighed.
Vision in White, Nora Roberts
Power and point of view
Ah, the always pesky question of power. Done well, consent is a matter of both characters having power (agency) in the decision to act.
Consent will never be complete without three things (shamelessly stolen from discussions around medical consent). The consent must be freely given, the giver must have capacity to consent (can’t be a child, for example), and it must be sufficiently specific to the activity proposed.
Go watch the Fifty Shades boardroom scene. That scene in the movie (and it’s equivalent negotiation by email in the book) will make you uncomfortable because Christian knows much more than he is letting on about himself, about the activities listed on the famed annexure to the contract, and by not sharing that information, he is misleading Ana. His power in this conversation is greater than Ana’s and that is key. She doesn’t have enough information to freely consent.
This is where my otherwise smoking hot boardroom scene fails. It doesn’t recognise or acknowledge the power of the two parties in the scene and completely misses the question of informed consent.
Making sure you have the right point of view character for your scene will also assist in managing any power issues. In an article published online in Jezebel in 2018 Sarah Maclean references the sex scene she was writing (based on timing I’m assuming she was writing Wicked and the Wallflower) and says that she deliberately chose to write the scene in her male main character’s point of view so that the reader could see the male character was concerned about his partner being into the sex. In Wicked the male main character is more experienced than the female main character and (without giving too much away if you haven’t read it) starts out looking to use the Wallflower to settle some scores. In those circumstances it’s important for the reader to see his care for her.
So, what does this mean for writing sexy consent?
When you’re writing your intimate scenes – whether they involve a touch, a kiss, or any type of sexual activity, think about:
- How you’re working it into your scene. Foreplay is sexy. Is consent sought before or during the activity, or both? Is it explicit or implicit? What would your character do or say in this situation? Are they using softer words, or some serious dirty talk?
- Who has the power in the scene? How does that impact the giving and receiving of consent? Do you need to change the point of view character?
- Think about the characters’ emotions and feelings more than the stage directions (I’m still working on this! I tend to write in layers… stage direction first, then emotions and feelings). What are they thinking? What do they want from this encounter?
Let me know how you go writing your next sexy consent scene?! And let me know @wordsbykc (Twitter) / @wordsbykristinecharles (FB) your favourite consent scenes from your favourite books?!
This post was originally published in the Romance Writers of Australia Hearts Talk March 2023
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