Fuck The Author! When Hotwives Don’t Do Their Due Diligence
It’s all about the minor details.
When you’re writing a story, the minor, seemingly unimportant details are what elevates a good story above the milquetoast morass of mediocrity. If you say “her breasts are big,” you’re practically hitting your reader on the head with your point. Just like I am now. But when you explore those finer details, the ones that get lost in translation from daydream to page, that’s when the story begins to take flight. “Her ample bosom strained against a shirt that must’ve been one size too small, stretching the fabric into three horizontal streaks.” Isn’t that better?
The minor details are also the ones that can end up sandbagging you. If your character’s significant other is a husband in one paragraph and a boyfriend in the next, your readers will ask the pertinent question: Why the fuck should I pay attention to your story if you didn’t? You only have to fuck up once, be inconsistent or wrong once, and the fanciful illusion of your wonderfully woven story deconstructs before the readers eyes.
Sometimes it’s the details that fuck you.