I’ve been lucky to narrate all sorts of things in my career, and I thought I’d pull back the curtain on what it’s like to narrate erotica.
I drink a scotch, put on a bustier and tiny silk panties, pull on my garters and stockings and then I…
Are you kidding? I’m wearing a stained t-shirt, yoga pants, and no makeup! I do this because it’s A) comfortable and B) the characters are so attractive that I don’t feel like I have to be.
At the first sex scene, I think “Oh, okay. That’s hot. Wow. Sure. Okay.”
At the second scene, I think, “Wow. They have a lot of energy. And appetite. I don’t have an appetite like that. Maybe I need to take a pill or something. Okay. Here we go…”
By the third, I think, “Don’t these people have jobs? Don’t they have stuff to do? Who’s buying groceries? How can she bend over like that without taking an Advil?”
By the fourth, I think, “Oh come on! You’re being teenagers! Do something productive like watch Newsroom and eat popcorn with your man-hunk. That’s what I’d do!”
Actually, now that I think about it, this is pretty much my thought process for narrating in general. I love storytelling in all its forms; I really do. But every once in a while, I am exhausted by characters’ boundless energy and superhuman abilities. Or...this is a possibility...maybe I’m a little bit jealous.