Never on a Friday--Brad Parks talks about S*x

RHYS BOWEN: We get all kinds of guests on Jungle Red. Some are erudite, some have fascinating skills to share with us, and some are...some are like Brad Parks. Naughty, pushing the envelope and we never quite know what he's going to say. But fun.

Brad is back again with a new book called The Good Cop and heaven knows where he's going this time! but please don't believe a word he says!

By Brad Parks

Noted Sexologist

            Good morning Reds, please take your seats. Thank you. What’s that Ms. Brogan www.janbrogan.com? No, you don’t have to sit in alphabetical order. I know how you feel about being stuck next to Ms.Burdette all the time.

            That’s good. Now, Ms. Bowen has been kind enough to invite me here to the Salon, and I plan to talk about sex in crime fiction. But I’d like to set some ground rules first. We’re not going to do it in the sly, winking way that blogs often handle this topic. There will be no schoolgirl tittering; no inappropriate innuendo; no thinly disguised anatomical references that involve animals, fruits or vegetables. We’re going to discuss this like mature, sober-minded adults who...

            Yes, what is it, Ms. Spencer-Fleming...

            No, we do not want to hear about the time you and Ross “did the matrimonial mambo” in a five-foot snow bank. See, that’s the kind sophomoric callowness we’re simply not going to tolerate. (Though I suppose I should expect no less from the woman who, on the occasion of receiving the prestigious Nero Award from the Wolfe Pack literary society, was base enough to point out that the society’s short-form fiction prize – the Black Orchid Novella Award – had an acronym that sounded similar to how Mainers pronounce the popular slang term for an erection).

            Anyhow, where was I? Ah, yes. Sex in crime fiction. As I was explaining, we’re not going to use euphemisms like “taking the skin boat to tuna town”; or “doing squat jumps in the cucumber patch”; or “visiting the love taco stand.” We’re going to engage in an intelligent discussion of when we should let our characters have sex, how we should handle it, and the implications for the story as a...

            What is it Ms. Harris?...

            Actually, I did not know you could do that with a garden trowel. That’s very interesting, but maybe that’s a better tidbit to save for when you decide to have the Dirt Nap series cross over into the erotic genre.

            So, moving on, this subject recently became pertinent to me because in my first three novels, the protagonist, an investigative reporter named Carter Ross, abstains from intercourse with any of several potential partners. This was not necessarily out of any physical disability – Carter is healthy enough for sexual activity – but it never happened naturally within in the flow of the plot.

            However, when it came time to write the fourth book, THE GOOD COP, which released this week, I decided that in order to further develop his story arc, he might need to raise the emotional stakes of his relationship with a certain female character. (For the record: This was not in response to readers constantly asking me, to use a certain crass colloquialism, when I was going to “let Carter get laid.”)

            I approached this gently, as I am aware that I created a character who is very much like me – I am a former newspaper reporter, and we’re both 6-foot-1, 185 pounds, with brown hair, blue eyes and certain fondness for pleated pants – and I didn’t want to even give readers the suggestion that I myself might...

            Yes, Ms. Ephron, I’m aware I have rather large hands, but I don’t think that...

            No, I’m not telling you my shoe size.

            Now, as I was just starting to explain, I believe sex must be handled carefully in novels. Yes, it’s a natural part of life. But so is going to the bathroom, and we don’t show our characters doing that. So as Carter and this particular character began certain courting rituals familiar to the species H. sapiens, I...

            Actually, Ms. Crombie  I don’t explicitly state what position the characters used. I really didn’t feel that particular detail lent to the scene’s dramatic thrust...

            Okay, okay, you in back, stop giggling. I admit “dramatic thrust” was a poor choice of phrase. Let’s say it didn’t add to the narrative push...

            ...Sorry, I should say that I didn’t want the pacing to grind to a...

            ...Strike that. I meant that some readers felt that detail would stick out as...

            Right. Never mind. It just didn’t add to the scene, all right?

            Now, continuing with our discussion, I write what I consider to be reality-based novels. So it was important to me that this sex scene had a certain verisimilitude that...

            No, Ms. Spencer-Fleming, that does not mean the chapter only takes three minutes to read...

            And, no, it doesn’t mean all the male readers will finish it first! Please I’m trying to foster a thoughtful discussion about this subject, one that I hope will continue with a robust dialogue in the comments section after the blog post is over. I want readers to be able to comment on how they prefer to see sex handled in fiction, and we can’t do that if you Reds keep interrupting me with this kind of facile...

            What’s that, Ms. Ryan?... 

            Oh. Really?...

            Is that so?...

            Yes, well, uh, you might want to see me after class.

Brad Parks www.bradparksbooks.com is a Shamus- and Nero-Award winning author of four novels. Booklist gave his latest, THE GOOD COP, a starred review, calling it “a tautly written thriller with charm and humor.” Library Journal said, “Parks’s award-winning series is essential reading.” He has two children so he has had sex at least twice.