TV Review: Stan Lee’s Lucky Man

I don’t usually review tv shows based on one episode. I think it’s a little unfair to jump straight in without giving them time to ‘bed in’. I went straight ahead with Lucky Man though; after episode 1, I think Sky TV might be on to a winner. It’s from the same genius who brought you comic characters such as the Spider-Man and the Fantastic Four (though that doesn’t mean we should blame him for the FF’s last outing, which was a train wreck), so it has a good solid ideas man behind it. Surprisingly, it’s not your run-of-the-mill superhero thing… well, I don’t think it is anyway.

lucky_man

 

Our hero (and I use the term loosely) is a Harry Clayton, a sub-par London police detective with a failed marriage behind him and a gambling habit still way out in front. While investigating the murder of the man to whom he owes most of his gambling debt, Harry chances upon an ancient bracelet that endows its wearer with the luck of the gods. For a roulette addict things can’t get much better, except for the fact that one of the bracelet’s previous owners threw himself off a high roof… Doesn’t sound all that lucky to me.

Episode 1 was a blinder. The script was fresh, the acting superb (stellar performances from James Nesbitt and Eve Best (who I last saw in the final episode of Nurse Jackie), and most importantly, it didn’t take itself too seriously. I think the problem with a lot of the super hero stuff running on Sky (Green Arrow, The Flash) is that they’re really not much fun. I don’t this is going to be the case with Lucky Man.

For the first episode, a very creditable eight out of ten.

 

Erotica without the sex

One thing that writing an erotic novel has given me is a sense of discipline. I don’t mean that I’ll look at a piece and think ‘Ookay, I think I might have gone a bit far there…’ It’s more a case of not taking the erotic prose to a point where it becomes a little… well… ridiculous. I was concerned about this when I started work on the Quisling Orchid, so I set myself a very simple goal: Don’t write anything that will earn you a spot on the ‘ten worse sex scenes of the year.’

As well as going to far, you can just as easily write something that’s hampered by your own inhibitions. I come across a lot of writers who’ve churned out some pretty staid erotic fiction simply because they’re afraid that someone they know will read it. The last thing you want is your great aunt (the one who promised to leave you the cottage) thinking you’re into auto asphyxiation.

Get over it, you tell ’em, it’s holding you back.

So they get over it, and then go from the shallow side, straight of the deep end; now we get some erotic writing that can only be described as ‘gooey’: you finish reading it and you think ‘Jesus, who’s going to clean all that up!’ But to be honest, going too far is probably better than stopping yourself from going far enough.

Worthwhile erotica is hard to do, so read the good (so you know what you’re looking for in your own work) and the bad (so you know crap erotica when you’ve written it yourself).

For me, what makes a piece of writing erotic is the atmosphere surrounding it, not necessarily the sexual act itself. The erotic is in building the heat and anticipation, and it’s a very good way to practice your writing: write an erotic scene that you know isn’t going to end in someone getting jumped. It helps focus your mind on the characters and their surroundings, on what you can do to charge the atmosphere and then finally expel that charge. Don’t discharge using any of the following:

  1. The sudden popping of champagne cork that no one has twisted.
  2. The sudden appearance of fireworks at the window.
  3. Sighing.
  4. Crossing of legs.
  5. The sudden and inexplicable destruction of a nearby planet.

And as with all writing, never hold back in your initial draft; the dodgy stuff can always be fixed later. But if you inhibit yourself from day one, then you’ll probably just stay inhibited until you publish.

Here’s a section of The Quisling Orchid that took me a while to get right; the first few drafts went too far too quickly; the next few were a little bit staid. The one after that was okay, and it was at that point I realised that I actually preferred the first one. Sometimes, the most erotic scene is all about the anticipation.

The Quisling Orchid (extract)