I’m N.R. Burnette, writer of the science fiction novels Cargo Lock 5 and Paphos. Truly, writers are widely known for their mystique and charisma, and it’s no secret that we can seduce with relative ease. The truth is, we do the same thing anybody else does, but since we’re writers, it’s freaking ridiculously easy for us. In fact, you are probably seduced right now. If not, keep reading.
The first thing every writer knows is that we come equipped with an unleveled playing field compared to non-writers. There’s just something about spending thousands of hours in a stationary, monitor induced trance that charges our bodies with sexual prowess. By the time we flip the laptop monitor down, it’s like we’ve flipped the Turn switch to ON. But like all powerful drugs, you can develop a natural resistance. For my fiancé and I, we’d be in a real bad spot if I didn’t know how to apply my skills as a writer to the art of seduction.
I’ll begin.
The first step is much like novel writing, and it is the hardest. First, I decide to seduce her. I get up, stretching the stiff joints that were couch ridden for the last three hours, and wait for my knees and back to stop popping. A slight moan usually helps. I brew a pot of coffee and drink it—all of it. Then I sit down, thinking about how I’m going to seduce her. And I mean soon, real soon, I just have to get around to it. A month goes by like this. Then, one day, I brew yet another pot of coffee. I realize I’m stalling, so I go to her, and I’m finally going to get this thing started. She could be anywhere in the house, it doesn’t matter. I’m determined. This time, she’s just getting home from work, not even out of her car yet. I’m ready.
I’m not ready.
I realize this will never work, so I turn around before she sees me and sit back on the couch. But ignorant stubbornness—something all writers have in spades—takes over, and I get up to try again. She is coming up the steps. I get my computer out, and I announce on Twitter that I’m getting ready to seduce her, and it will be really amazing, and everyone should check it out. I phrase this post just right. No one comments on it. A crushing fist of self doubt nails me in the gut, and I run across the house to the bathroom, crawl into the shower, turn the water on, and cry tears of self loathing and inadequacy. Luckily, writers are well conditioned for this, since every book does this to us, every time. After that, I dry off, come out in a towel, and approach her as she is reading the mail by the table.
I know my first attempt is going to be the ROUGH DRAFT, so I just go for it. I start out well with a greeting, some questions about her day, but I get slapped when I start humping her leg too soon. It was just TOO soon! I didn’t have enough going on in between. So I abandon the idea for one hour, and then I’m ready for the SECOND DRAFT.
The SECOND DRAFT goes much better. I hook her with the beginning of an engaging conversation, over a subject that is easily likeable and accepted by many—Pinterest—followed by an almost shared urge to touch her shoulder. Then I start trying to hump her leg. I get slapped again. I realize now, my SECOND DRAFT still needs work. It was good, but it just isn’t there yet! I go drink another pot of coffee, and as soon as it’s done—bloodshot eyes and all—I’m ready to finish what I started.
My ‘THIRD DRAFT’ attempt to seduce her goes like a middle aged woman’s daytime sex dream. I walk into the living room where my fiancé is watching TV, trying to relax. She looks up, sees my chiseled features and smoldering blue eyes. I say, “Hi,” and she blushes. The room is getting warmer now, so I take off my cowboy hat and spurs. Each motion is like a Greek god exercising his body, and she’s mesmerized by my rippling, oiled muscles. There’s a thunderstorm outside. My hair has grown three feet, and a cool breeze stemming from the refrigerator tosses it about playfully. I can feel that she’s about to burst with anticipation. This third draft is going much better, but it still needs something. Then, somehow, the couch catches fire, so I scoop her up into my powerful arms of salvation. She thanks me for saving her life, and I set her down on the kitchen table as if it was nothing. I save people’s lives every day, all day, all times of the day, so please, it was nothing. I coolly go back into the living room, unafraid for my own safety, and smother the angry flames with my strong, bare hands. Somehow my shirt has completely burned away, so I play Tic-Tac-Toe on my rippling abdomen with the charcoal smudges covering my fingers. And I win. Then I walk back into the kitchen and climb on top of the table where she is waiting, followed by a spontaneous dimming of all kitchen lights. We make love so powerful that Mt. Vesuvius, which is the view outside our window, erupts with a fountain of lava. We hold each other, looking out the window, at the lava.
So you see, for a writer, seducing someone isn’t very different from what normal people do. We just drink amounts of coffee that should be studied in a Ukrainian lab, we smother our emotions of inadequacy, and we perfect our approach until it has a hooking beginning, a reasonably likeable middle, and a satisfying, climactic ending, that anyone who is smart will absolutely love.
So thank you for reading. I’m happy to share these things about writers that make us so special. Perhaps, in some small way, it will let you non-writers out there realize that you aren’t that different from us.
Thank you.

Author N.R. Burnette is a science fiction and fantasy writer with books that are conveniently available on Amazon Kindle and other eReaders. One of his books, Paphos 1, is free on all formats. It's a series about a dad and his daughter who travel to Paphos with a team of scientists to explore it, and they discover a massive alien facility, hidden underground.