What gets you hot?

I was recently reminded of just how diverse people are in their interpretation of words. More specifically, it was a conversation revolving around erotica. I know, I was shocked as well, actual people discussing literature (for a certain value of "literature") face-to-face and outside of a classroom setting. I had to fan myself lest I got the vapors. I suppose it could have been motivated primarily out of their hopes to parlay the verbal interaction with one a lot more physical, but that would be cynical, it isn't as if people patronizing an adult store would have sex on their mind or anything. I'm sure it was entirely chaste and intellectual.

Alright, so the whole of the conversation was decidedly transparent from my lofty position behind the counter. I found it damnedably amusing. Call me weird, but the spontaneous eruption of discourse seems to have fallen largely by the wayside in today's society beyond the sort of mindlessly mumbled inanities that pass as small talk. Besides, all the involved parties seemed quite content to be contributing their insights and opinions so the fact it was sparked by the flimsiest of pretexts was moot. I was also quite curious as to what might be gleaned from their preoccupied opinion.

William Jennings Bryon they were not, though the mental image of such an orator passionately carrying forth on what makes for good erotica is exceptionally intriguing. It conveys the same surreal frisson of the unexpected that might be exhibited if historians discovered Thomas Jefferson penned a torrid bit of slash fiction involving George Washington and Ben Franklin. But I digress.

The gist of what I carried away, beyond a more targeted idea of what to keep in stock, was that it all seemed to boil down to what type of words the author chose to employ. I can almost see the eyes blinking and hear the sarcastic exclamations of "well, duh" in the wake of that statement. Anything conveyed purely in the written word is nothing more than author's word choice. "War and Peace" would be a completely different experience if written at a third grade reading level. "A Clockwork Orange" would lose most of its impact if Burgess had declined to employ "nadset," the slang used by Alex and his droogs. Can you comprehend the profound dissonance of translating something like "The Story of O" into the colloquial English of the Ozarks? So yes, saying it all comes down to what words are selected to craft a piece of erotica is like saying it all comes down to single oxygen atoms bonded to two hydrogen atoms apiece to create a drop of water.

I'm not reducing it to quite that basic level. If I use the model that words are building materials, the use of brick rather than lumber or stone is immaterial to my observation, rather it would be how the coursework was laid and mortared. At that level of refinement, it is interesting what is revealed.

I could write out the same story arch three times of man meeting woman, man and woman have intercourse, woman leaves man, only changing my working vocabulary to a small degree and I would polarize my readership into three camps. Although they are fundamentally identical, one is going to be more evocative to the reader than the others. It could change by mood, just like some songs are more appealing at a given moment than other equally liked songs or it could be a static preference like an aversion to the color yellow.

Some people get the biggest jolt out of reading about "fat fuck-sticks slamming sloppy cunts until the nasty little cum-dumpster is slurping his spunk off purple knob." It's an easy demographic to appeal to, mostly involving linking superficial archetypes into daisy-chains of the most crass, derogatory, and cartoonish terminology that comes to mind. It is possible to write something with literary value in this motif other than trigger a mechanical desire to masturbate, but it would take prodigious effort for the writer and it's doubtful any of the readership would notice.

On the other end of the spectrum are those who find the best erotica employs florid and baroque phrasing, rife with heaving bosoms, dewy clefts, throbbing man-roots, and life affirming climaxes that crest through their conjoined flesh like sun-dappled waves of rainbows and kittens. There's a reason romance novels are so similar in overall style. It's the tip of this pastel-hued iceberg.

Some folks want their stories to use proper names of things. They want their vagina and/or penis. No euphemisms for them, no sir. Of course, the preponderance of what is out there will not conform to this group's desires. If for no other reason, it's incredibly hard to spin out a compelling fantasy and maintain sexual tension using only precise clinical terms for relevant anatomy.

Everyone has their own mental list of what gets their juices flowing. Some crave cock. Others are unimpressed and desire a different term. Pussy works for some, twat for others. Quim will confuse a percentage and delight another. Cum works just dandy for a large number of humanity, come with yet another, and still a goodly portion remain preferring yet another word sound entirely.

Within every mind, words are subtly linked to other things; additional words, memory, imagery, emotion. Few things are as primal and direct to the subconscious as the sex drive. Hearing people attempt to explain what trips their triggers and why can be tremendously fascinating.