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For an
entire season and a half, we never saw them kiss. We never
knew when or even if their relationship had been consummated.
They flirted tamely. They held hands and exchanged sweet smiles.
They danced together at the Bronze like the uncoordinated
dorks we knew and loved them to be. But due to strict network
censor rules about homosexual content, Willow and Tara's physical
relationship was relegated entirely to metaphor and "magic."
Their identities as witches became code speak for their being
gay. This was a running gag on the show, an example of the
kind of tongue-in-cheek self-awareness that made Buffy
one of the smartest shows of its time.
Because
I was so hungry for gay female visibility onscreen, I happily
ate up the metaphors. Certainly, this was further than any
other show had dared to go in exploring an onscreen lesbian
relationship, and the makers of Buffy were folks well
known for dealing with metaphors most exquisitely. They pulled
them off in ways that were creative and visually appealing,
if lacking in outright smoochies. In the place of a first
love scene for our girls, we saw Willow and Tara, mid-spell
ritual, lightly stroking each other's arms and chanting breathily—until
Willow finally falls back onto strategically placed cushions,
writhing and moaning in "magical" ecstasy. It sounds a little
silly, even to me. But it was sexy. And it was better than
nothing.
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| The
cover of the collective Willow and Tara comic books from
Dark Horse comics. |
But I
wanted more. And on The Kitten, there was more. I discovered
fan fiction, stories written by fans about their favorite
characters, posing new storylines, new scenarios, and oftentimes
in the case of Willow and Tara, long awaited, fully-fleshed
out love scenes. Some of the folks writing Willow/Tara fanfics
were incredibly talented. Others clearly didn't have much
experience as writers, but their efforts were heartfelt. Even
the poorly-written stories were unfailingly interesting in
the myriad ways their authors portrayed the emotional and
physical relationship between Willow and Tara with less "sub"
and more "text."
As a reader,
I became fascinated. Here was a group of gay female fans taking
matters into their own hands, re-imagining this relationship
and what parts of it we as viewers were allowed to see. As a
lesbian, I found this incredibly empowering. And as a writer,
I found myself thinking: I can do this.
By then,
my sojourn up north had ended, and I was back in San Diego
working part time jobs and not making as much progress as
I liked on my novel. I couldn't seem to connect with my characters
in quite the way I wanted. The bulk of what I had on paper
at that point was turning out to be more in the way of backstory
and lackluster character sketches than useable prose. I was
stuck.
I wanted
to write something engaging and sexy but lacked the courage
to try my hand at erotica. I wanted to imagine my two favorite
TV characters finally being given free reign to be sexual
with each other. It seemed only natural that these impulses
should meet. So I wrote my first piece of erotica—my
first fanfic. I called it "Vixens," borrowing one of Tara's
lines from the show. She had dubbed Willow a vixen, flirtatiously
calling the redhead out as temptress. It was one of the sexiest
onscreen moments the girls had ever shared.
As a writer,
I used that first story to expand on what I had been allowed
to see, but also to play with the idea that as a viewer, I had
long been teased by the use of "spells" in the place of real
love scenes. What started as a bit of musing about how Willow
and Tara might have consummated their relationship quickly turned
into twenty or so pages of Tara teasing and tempting Willow
to get over her sexual "shyness." Yes, she used magic. But she
used sexier magic, and she used wiles and wickedness, too. I
included several steamy scenes of foreplay that were suddenly
cut off, leaving my borrowed heroines aching for more. There
was even a semblance of a plot, and plenty of fun bringing the
other characters into the background, trying on their various
voices for size. And in the end, there was the gloriously frisky
lesbian lustfest that we never got to see onscreen.
Satisfied
with my virgin effort into the genre, I posted my story on
the fan fiction board at the Kitten, using the penname "Dumbsaint,"
a nod to my favorite obscure Kerouac quote. The response floored
me. I was a hit. I had instant, self-proclaimed fans. I had
folks requesting permission to re-post the story elsewhere
on other fan fiction sites. People actually thought my work
was good—and they weren't shy about saying so or asking
for more. For a young, frustrated, unpublished writer, it
was a uniquely gratifying experience. And it was surprisingly
easy to write these characters about whom I cared so much.
 |
Tara
and Willow from Season 6 of Buffy.
Photo property of Twentieth Century Fox. |
I wrote
more stories about Willow and Tara, and their fondly imagined
sexcapades. My initial efforts after "Vixens" took up where
the show would leave off, imagining those spells scenes that
I saw onscreen evolving into more physical explorations. I wrote
about what their first kiss might have been like. I penned still
another version of how they might have consummated their relationship.
In some of these stories, I dispensed with plot altogether and
just focused on character development along with the romantic
and sexy, sensory stuff. I was having more fun as a writer than
I'd ever had in my life, and for the first time, I found myself
part of a community of other writers who supported and applauded
one another's efforts with a uniquely loyal and heartfelt brand
of appreciation. We wrote for ourselves and for each other,
brought together by our mutual adoration of these characters,
and for many of us, our shared experience of being gay women
in a mainstream culture that often made us feel invisible. Watching
the continuing adventures of Willow and Tara every week gave
us hope.
So I
kept writing. My stories even won a couple of fan awards,
though those never meant as much to me as the comments and
emails I got from people who enjoyed reading my work. I had
an audience that wrote back. The same day that I would finish
and post a story, I would receive instant feedback. Any ideas
I'd had about what transpired between authors and readers
were forever altered. And through the experience, I was developing
a wholly new sense of confidence in myself as a writer.
Meanwhile,
at the beginning of its sixth season, Buffy made the
move from the "family friendly" WB to UPN, a flashier, edgier
channel that was gradually allowing the writers and producers
a bit more leeway in what they could show on screen. Even
so, magic was still the vehicle by which the sexual relationship
between Willow and Tara was expressed. The increasingly silly
nature of this was not lost on me.
"Once
More, With Feeling," the much-celebrated, tongue-in-cheek
musical episode of Buffy arrived. In it, Willow and Tara came
the closest they had yet to having a real sex scene. At the
climax of their sappy love song, Tara falls back on the bed
she shares with Willow, as the latter crawls down her body
and disappears from the frame. Tara begins to levitate off
of the bed, her head thrown back, singing about magic and
how Willow makes her "complete." It was clear enough that
we were watching them in the act of lesbian sexing. But still
with the spells and innuendo!
[continued
on page 3]
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