Parts is Parts

We have a really special treat for you today. Michelle Buonfiglio from Romance: B(u)y the Book at Lifetime Television's mylifetime.com is guest blogging today! Oh, and she's talking about one of my favorite topics...body parts! At the end of the day we'll draw one name from the commenter's to win a six-pack of erotic romances that Michelle has kindly offered to give out. Woo hoo!




So, my kids and I are doing homework at the kitchen table last night, all warm and fuzzy, bellies full, brimming with happiness of the kind only corn-dog dinners and shared silliness bring. My homework? Putting together content on Lifetime’s “drupal,” the digital system that publishes all our online stuff and is tech-supported on, like, three continents.

Suddenly, I cause a glitch and groan in pained frustration, jamming my fingers into my hair like some damn Regency romance hero, crying, “Shooooooooooot!”

And my 11-year-old son -- his voice shaded oh, so sweetly with precise, pre-adolescent sarcasm – deadpans, “What’s wrong, Mom? Didja’ misspell orgasm again?”

OK. That was so one of those times I lament offering my son open communication about all things sexual – and ever letting him stumble across my work. Because I feel almost as if I’ve created a monster, despite the fact he assures me all’s well, because, and I quote, “It’s just those three little syllables, Mum: Pyoo-ber-tee.”

Now, I understand it’s not so unusual for males of the species to have sex on their minds pretty much constantly from the age of 11-ish. And I remember being wicked – no pun intended, Misses Wicked! – curious at that age, too about “doing it” and boys and the stuff “nice girls didn’t do.”

Oddly enough, as much as I thought about boys and sex – which was nearly constantly -- I never thought much about the actual, well, boy parts. I didn’t even know how to pronounce penis until I hit junior high.

Now, part of the reason I love erotic romance is the way it celebrates the correlation between growing commitment and intimacy in a relationship, and heightened enjoyment of sexuality in that love match. But in addition, I adore the fact that in my favorite erotic romances, there’s dialogue and prose and imagery chock-a-block with my most favoritest male body part, the name of which easily trips from the tongue these days.

And for as often as I read it and revel in its myriad lengths and girths and outrageous antics, I simply must admit I never, ever, under any circumstance, tire of reading the word cock. Yet I know writers struggle with ways to describe that delectable member – and some ( one might say tragically misguided) readers tire of the same-old c-word tag.

To that end, I thought I’d share with you a nifty-yet-sophomoric little site I found today that could help erom authors frustrated with trying to find new ways to name the boy (and girl) parts. It’s called ThingyNames.com http://www.thingynames.com/ -- a place where folks go to find out what names couples give their genitalia.

When you hit ThingyNames.com – and we’re all adults here, so make sure you’re up for the “sex and swinger personals” ads – you’ll find you can vote on the pet names, co-own a name (Who knew someone else named their Va JJ, “Lawrence of a Labia”) or just sink into the train wreck that is ThingyNames.com.

Authors? When you write your next erotic masterpiece, feel free to thank me in the acknowledgements thusly: To Michelle, who taught me that a cock by any other name is still, well, a cock – and just as sweet.

You shouldn’t have any problem getting that through editorial.

What’s your favorite body part in erom? Why do you think women respond to female as well as male genital imagery in erom? Does “graphic” dialogue, imagery and prose add to or take away from your enjoyment of a love story? What are the best terms you’ve ever read for parts?

Thanks, Misses Wicked, for sharing your digs with me today! And, would you please not show this to my mom?