Why I Don’t Care About the RITAs

Candy’s Note: Edited a couple of things for clarity. Bad blogger! No cookie!

Robin mentioned that one of my favorite authors, Barbara Samuel, posted an entry on Romancing the Blog about why readers should care about the RITAs.  One of the reasons given is that “the RITA is the Oscar or Pulitzer Prize of romances novels.”

My immediate reaction was “HAHAHAHAHAHAHA,” closely followed by “What. The. Fuck.”

I don’t take the RITAs seriously. In fact, I don’t take ANY of the romance awards seriously. While the RWA has awarded the RITA to some books that were actually good, those works are few and far between. Of the books I’ve read from the complete list of RITA winners, I can count maaaaaybe ten books that actually deserved to win in their categories, most of them going to Barbara Samuel/Ruth Wind, Laura Kinsale and Jennifer Crusie.

And before y’all get all het up about how I’m being unfair, because “good” is entirely subjective, I’d like to point out there are plenty of objective standards to writing, which Beth pointed out with great verve and eloquence a little while back, and which I then expanded on in a much more silly manner. But if you don’t want to wade through those two long-ish pieces, here it is in short: I separate craft from personal preference. There’s what I think is genuinely good, and there’s what I enjoy reading, and sometimes the two don’t intersect, and that’s OK—not loving something that was technically perfect doesn’t make me a cretin, and neither does enjoying something that was sloppily made.

The RITAs? Like I said to Robin, the motto for the vast majority of the winners seems to be “Hi, we’re mostly competent. Mostly.” Even authors who have written genuinely good books, like Lisa Kleypas and Connie Brockway, end up winning for books that were sub-par.

I don’t treat the other awards in such a dismissive fashion. The winners of the the Pulitzer, Booker, Guardian, Whitbread, Hugo and Nebula awards have quite reliably provided me with excellent, entertaining reads. But most of these awards tend to skew towards the more literary end of the spectrum, which might make these rather unfair comparisons for the RITAs. That leaves the Hugos and Nebulas, which are genre fiction awards. So why do I perk up and take notice when I hear a book has been awarded the Hugo or the Nebula?

The only reason I can think of is the Geek Factor. My tastes are a lot more in sync with the average geek than they are the average romance reader, and geeks are more plentifully found in SF than romance, and geeks are the ones to vote on the Nebulas and Hugos. To be honest, the average SF/F novel isn’t written that much more skillfully than the average romance novel; however, I tend to find the ideas and plots in SF/F a lot more interesting, and I will forgive a lot of clunkiness if the story grabs me. Neal Stephenson is an example who immediately comes to mind; he does some absolutely maddening things with his prose and characters, but his stories are so compelling that they drag me along. I even find his massive infodumps fascinating, God help me.

So until mainstream romance tastes begin to align themselves more closely to mine (unlikely), or until romance novels start playing with prose, structure and medium in the same interesting ways that literary fiction does (even more unlikely, and frankly, not necessarily desirable), or until the RITAs stop awarding most of their prizes to the literary equivalent of Thomas Kinkade paintings (unlikely, but very highly desirable), I’m going to keep on blithely ignoring the RITAs as a source of good reads while keeping an eye out for recommendations by people whose tastes I tend to trust a bit more, like Beth, or Robin, or Evil Auntie Peril.

Comments are Closed

  1. Candy says:

    Sarah and Laura: Thanks for the fascinating information about novels and novelists. (Tangent: I have yet to read Tristram Shandy, though it’s been sitting on my TBR shelf for the last three years; it looks large and delicious and insane.)

    And Sarah, I agree that the novel has never struck me as either a “male” or “female” form. So here’s one feminist who won’t be beating you about the head for it.

    Eddie: You may have a point about Harriet vs. Holden. I think there’s a sort of privilege and glamorous sheen to young male rage but not so much with young female rage. Plus Holden had centuries of manly isolato tradition to build on and riff off; in some ways, he’s a pretty interesting example of how those manly isolatos are or have to be not-quite-right-in-the-head, yes?

  2. Christine Merrill says:

    “you’re not being handed a list of every SF/F book published last year. What’s the selection process behind THAT?”

    That’s just it.  There is no selection process.

    The nominating ballot I am holding is the vetting process, before the real ballot.  There are five blank lines after each category.

    I can write whatever I want on them, as long as the work came out in 2006.  There is no list of all the SF/F of 2006, no requirements as to publisher to weed out vanity presses, and no way that voters have read it all, so we are allowed to pick whatever we want, and hope that the best books make the top 5.

    So if I published a science ficiton book in my garage and handed it out on a street corner, there is nothing to prevent me from nominating myself.  But 4 votes wouldn’t get me on the Hugo final ballot.

    But If I had enough time and an axe to grind,  there is nothing to prevent me from lobbying for more votes.

    I’m not a big name fan, or anything.  But I’ve been going to Worldcon almost every year since 1980.  I must have some friends.  I could probably find 20 people who thought it was funny to mess up the voting.  And 20 more who felt the Hugo nomination process needed revamping and wanted to prove the point.

    I now have a voting block of 40.

    The membership in any given year is around 6,000, but less than 20% tend to vote.  I need my book to make the top five.  Can I do it with 40? 

    I don’t know.  But I can make a dent.  And go looking for more friends.  And somewhere in this house, I have previous year’s voting stats, so I can figure out how many people I need on my team.

    But I wouldn’t. 
    It would be wrong. 

    As I said before, I don’t vote because I am ignorant of the subject matter about 95% of the time.

    But when I was young, sweet and impressionable, and used to vote?

    We would get together in a group to do it.  And I would vote as I was advised to by my friends.

    And sometimes, it ended up that I had friends on the Hugo ballot.

    Amazing. 

    The fact that the Hugos consistantly turn out some really good books says a lot for the taste and care of the people who do most of the voting, and their love of the subject matter. 

    But the system is not foolproof.  The potential to turn it into a popularity contest exists.

  3. nina armstrong says:

    Re the sf/f awards-some authors feel that the Hugo is “better” because is is a large cross-section of the entire spec fic community that votes on it-fans,agents,editors,publishers-everybody. The Nebulas are seen as “broken” by many writers due to the odd eligibility problem and some other things. Also,the only people who can vote on the Nebulas are writers who are active members of SFWA in good standing-which is by no means everyone.
      Also,I disagree with ther “arbitrary wordcount”-those are established literary conventions-and it prevents us from comparing apples to oranges.
          As far as popularity contests go,look at this past year. Probably the most “popular” book was A Feast for Crows by Georger R.R. Martin. it was the biggest seller of the novel nominees,George has a large fanbase,etc. The winner of best novel was a much lesser selling book by a Canadian author. For that matter,at the last Canadian worldcon,best novel went to a British writer living in America.
        All these awards will constantly have accusations of popularity contests etc. However,I haven’t seen much effect of campaigning on the winners.
      I think the RITAs’ problems stem from various sources,including all the categories-some of them seem moribund. Maybe RWA should consider a different system,maybe not. On the whole, I must admit that winnign a RITA means very little to me in terms of wheteher or not I want to read the book.

  4. MelissaB says:

    I admit up front that I read narrowly (pretty much just historical romances set in 19th c. Britain, classics and literary fiction), and despite being a fairly serious English lit major once upon a time, I am nowhere near as well read (in romance or any other form of literature) as many of you who post here.  By way of excuse I will note that I live in a Bermuda triangle of work, small children and attempts to make progress on my own WIP.  (Yes, yes, I hear the collective groan.  I am yet another unpublished hanger-on here in the Bitchery.)

    Because I have a pittance of free time for pleasure reading, I don’t bother even trying to get my hands on a book unless I have a reason to think it will be good.  So, in an effort to improve my chances of that happening, I look at who has won the RITAs.  I also look at a lot of other resources like online romance reviewers (unbelievable, I know, given the context) and the recommendations of people who post their Top-10 Faves on Amazon under those often bizarre-o headings.  I check out what the authors I like are reading, and I ask my uncloseted romance-reading friends what they have enjoyed.  I also listen to what the blue-haired lady at the Book Rack (my destination for out-of-print backlists) recommends.  Then I take it all with a grain of salt.

    I feel like I’ve had pretty good success with RITA winners.  I read Susan Kay Law’s A Wanted Man solely on the basis that it won a RITA in 2005, and I liked it even though I’m not usually into American settings.  I kept that book, and I don’t keep anything that I don’t expect to re-read or loan to a friend as a recommended read.  The same thing is true for Patricia Ryan’s Silken Threads, which won a RITA a few years earlier.  I enjoyed her medieval spin on Rear Window, despite the fact that I’m really not into medievals. Even Julie Garwood’s.

    I also tried to read Laura Kinsale’s Shadowheart on the basis of its RITA win, but then I got to the part where the heroine bites the hero’s man-titty.  (NB:  She’s not a vampire.)  I’m more of a tit-licker type myself, so despite the book being well written I put it down and never picked it up again.  Have I dismissed the RITAs because of this experience?  No.  I just moved on and looked for something else to read.

    I’ve enjoyed many historicals written by RITA winners.  I agree with the comment here that in some cases authors have not received this award for their strongest work.  But overall, having read the complete backlists of quite a number of these authors, I find like the body of their work despite the blemishes.

    In looking back over the list of winners in the historical categories, I am admittedly disappointed to see that some very worthy authors are simply missing.  (Is my “Find” function broken or can it possibly be that neither Mary Balogh nor Patricia Gaffney has ever won RITA?)  But putting aside the much-explored shortcomings of the RITAs, I think it is important to point out here that the winner’s circle includes a number of what I consider to be exceptional historical romances.  These are my “keepers,” the books that I’ve read and re-read and have loaned out under the penalty of death if they were to go astray.  (These happen to be: Lord of Scoundrels (Chase), My Dearest Enemy (Brockway) and The Proposition (Ivory).)  Maybe I grade on a softer curve than Candy and Sarah, but I think that these are some trashy novels a smart bitch can be proud of.

  5. Estelle Chauvelin says:

    And Don Quixote just has the claim of being the first *modern* novel.  IIRC, the first Classical novel was Metamorphosis, AKA The Golden Ass, by Apuleius, which also includes the first known version of the story of Eros and Psyche.  (Which I’m almost certain Cervantes read when he was trying to figure out the whole “novel” thing.  Tons of side narratives, chapters of people telling other people stories, and a guy who gets in a fight with a wineskin?)

  6. Candy says:

    The nominating ballot I am holding is the vetting process, before the real ballot.  There are five blank lines after each category.

    I can write whatever I want on them, as long as the work came out in 2006.  There is no list of all the SF/F of 2006, no requirements as to publisher to weed out vanity presses, and no way that voters have read it all, so we are allowed to pick whatever we want, and hope that the best books make the top 5.

    Christine, I don’t know much about the Hugo process, but you’re saying that a self-published book from a no-name author will make the ballot without triggering anybody’s alarms, and that it’ll make it to the final voter’s ballot? I’m slightly more skeptical. It’s not as if it’s a true free for all; there’s a committee that can do, among other things, swap the categories the nominees belong in, according to the guidelines in the WSFS Constitution. I agree that the Hugo process isn’t perfect, and every awards contest can degenerate into a popularity game, and yeah, with enough subtlety and co-ordination, I’m sure it can be severely fucked with, but I doubt it’s quite as open to being jiggered with as the scenario you give.

    And Melissa B, Lord of Scoundrels and The Proposition truly deserved their RITAs (thus spake Candythustra). My Dearest Enemy…I liked it a whole lot, and I’d give it a B+, but I’m torn as to whether it’s actually all that good. Harder for me to separate warm fuzzies from crafty things with that one. I’d have to re-read and re-assess.

  7. I think the point being made about the Hugos is that the RITA was accused (here) of being a popularity contest. It seems to me you can’t get much more impartial than NOT judging a category your books are in, judging anonymously, having no control over WHICH books you receive, and oh here’s a great concept, reading ALL THE BOOKS you’re supposed to vote on before you place your score.

    Whereas somebody voting for the Hugos could cast votes for the only three books they read that year, or cast votes for the authors they’ve loved before even if they haven’t read the book, or cast votes for their friends.

    I assume the RITAs are scored the same way as the Golden Heart. Read the book. Give it a score on a range from 1 to 9. Five being “average” for a published romance in the category. Nine being an exceptional, outstanding read. Write it on the scoresheet that should have come with your books. That’s it, ya’ll. Kind of the exact same way readers might rate something in their head after they read it. “Eh, that was average”. “Shit, that sucked balls.” or “Ohmigod, I just had a religious experience.” or even, “I would’ve given it a nine if the craft had been better, but I’m giving it a seven.”

    Okay, I’m done. I swear.

  8. Candy says:

    I think the point being made about the Hugos is that the RITA was accused (here) of being a popularity contest. It seems to me you can’t get much more impartial than NOT judging a category your books are in, judging anonymously, having no control over WHICH books you receive, and oh here’s a great concept, reading ALL THE BOOKS you’re supposed to vote on before you place your score.

    Whereas somebody voting for the Hugos could cast votes for the only three books they read that year, or cast votes for the authors they’ve loved before even if they haven’t read the book, or cast votes for their friends.

    I think that as far as it goes, both the RITA and Hugo have issues in terms of how the winners are selected, but I’d just like to point out that really, if a RITA judge wanted to, I imagine (s)he could vote without ever having read the book (I mean, you’re supposed to, but is anyone really *making* ‘em do it?), cast votes for friends, etc. It’s possible to attempt to co-ordinate shenanigans of that sort on a bigger scale for the Hugos, true, but there seems to be a committee to nip that sort of thing in the bud.

    In short: not perfect.

    Y’know, the more I talk about this, the less I feel able to critique different judging methods. It’s all flailing around and writing in titles and assigning numbers. Sigh.

    And Victoria, keep posting away if you have something to say.

  9. Victoria Dahl says:

    It’s all flailing around and writing in titles and assigning numbers. Sigh.

    LOL Yeah, that sounds about right.

  10. DS says:

    And if anyone wants to read a wonderful, witty, backstabbing sort of mystery about a group of English literati trying to award a literary prize as their numbers are diminished by murder—check out Ruth Dudley Edwards’ Carnage on the Committee.  Better yet, get the audiobook. The narrator is very good.

    Edwards by the way is an English conservative and I am a raving liberal but I still love the way she skewers literary politics.

  11. Robin says:

    Wow, I must have expressed myself very badly, because that is exactly the opposite of what I was trying to say.

    I really appreciate the clarification.

    As you can tell, I’m more than a little sensitive to the “outsider” rhetoric, because I’ve encountered if for the three years I’ve been reading Romance.  And lest you think I’m a lightweight, I’ve read *hundreds* of Romances in that time, routinely spending upwards of 20 dollars or more for out of print Romances and tracking down books from the 80s on.  And interestingly, I found myself identifying very much with Candy’s description of herself as a reader (although I juggle different percentages of genres and writing disciplines than she) as someone who continues to seek out Romance despite a persistent and annoying pattern of disappointment.  I know what great Romance can be, I guess, and I’m hungry for feeling nourished in both head and heart. And I am passionate about wanting to support a women-centered, women-produced genre.

    But sometimes I really wonder whether Romance is a true woman’s community, either as authors or readers.  So much Romance itself seems to be centered around the hero rather than the heroine.  Then there’s the issue of the fan v. the reader, and while these categories can certainly overlap, I think Romance may be more comfortable with the accommodating fan than the critical reader.  Then there are the cries of disloyalty every time someone dares suggest that the genre isn’t okay (much like those self-esteem builder you referenced in your RtB post).  And, of course, the ugly middle school cafeteria crap we see online periodically. 

    That there are wonderful things about the genre is evident in every glowing book review and book recommendation from reader to reader, as well, IMO, as the kind of rigorous discussions that go on here and a couple other places online.  What I like about here is that there seems to be an understanding that anyone spending this much time talking about Romance has to have a close relationship to the genre—an insider relationship, as I would call it (because I’m not the kind of reader who wants to write Romance or who thinks that only authors are insiders). 

    But as to generic limitations, definitions, etc., that they are opaque or “suspect” to some of us doesn’t mean we are “outsiders”—it sometimes just means that the freaking things are opaque—or at the very least that we recognize the uniquely politicized nature of Romance genre boundaries (Romance = one man, one woman, for example).  But that sort of makes them more opaque in certain ways, IMO, because Romance seems so intrinsically loaded with all sorts of value judgments that settle right along the generic boundary lines.  And I kind of think it’s a good thing to be vigilant about patrolling those boundaries, especially when it comes time to talk about the best of the genre and how that is determined.  Because ultimately it’s the “best” and the “worst” of the genre that defines it, and god knows we spend enough time seeing the worst.  But when you spend as much time as some of us do seeking out fresh, innovative, well-crafted, compelling, and emotionally powerful Romances, the “best” is a topic of great interest and interrogation, IMO.

  12. Robin says:

    And let me just apologize for the heinous typos and grammatical violations in that last post.  10 hours of school and a brutal (ha ha) debate on torture techniques did me in today.

  13. Robin says:

    Re. the history of the novel. So much of it has been covered, but I just wanted to add that Behn was primarily a dramatist, and the reason this is important, IMO, is because there are many, many texts that exist, some of which have been referenced here, that could compete for the “first novel”—if we could separate generic forms from the specific cultural forces that help produce and shape them.  And IMO we can’t.  The novel as we know it today really has a very specific cultural lineage, and while there were some early pioneers in novel-like prose, the *form* of the novel itself is really an 18th century invention, written, even its early days, by both men and women.  I think this is akin to saying that Pride and Prejudice is a genre Romance, when it existed before genre Romance even came into consciousness as a *form* of the novel.  People may identify P&P as a Romance, and I do so myself, but technically speaking it’s not formally identifiable as such within the reality of literary history.  At least in terms of how I’ve learned about it over the years.

  14. Nora Roberts says:

    Hey! I won Best Book of the Year for Born In Ice in ‘95. Why doesn’t RWA have that listed on their site?

    Those bitches.

    Just saying.

    Yes, I wish they’d bring that back. There were problems, those problems should be addressed and fixed. But it wouldn’t be simple. First problem being they didn’t get a lot of nominated books from the membership. They all but begged for them, and there was considerable—I take it—lack of interest. I recall they even put a post-paid postcard in RWR so all the member had to do was fill in a favorite book, membership number, name, send it back. They did try.

    So the solution would be to somehow get the membership off its collective ass to send in their favorite book, then to vote for their choice of the top ten selected.

  15. SB Sarah says:

    First problem being they didn’t get a lot of nominated books from the membership. They all but begged for them, and there was considerable—I take it—lack of interest. I recall they even put a post-paid postcard in RWR so all the member had to do was fill in a favorite book, membership number, name, send it back. They did try.

    That’s a consistent problem with RWA membership that I just do not get, but then, I don’t understand low voter turn out in federal and state elections, either.

    I’ve noticed just about every year I’ve been a member, the RWA mails out the ballot for officers, and the voter turnout is low. Even the year that there was Much Dramatic Kerfluffle over the administration’s decisions, the turnout was oddly low. I think the stats for ballots returned from the total membership for the last slate of elections – and please correct me on this if I’m wrong – hovered around 22%. Jeez. It’s a piece of paper. You check boxes. You put it in an envelope that’s provided and you mail it. I just don’t get it. I mean, it’s kind of fun. There’s PICTURES of people running for office, and sometimes, in a good year, you’ve never seen so many good Glamour Shots. Feather boas, people! FEATHER BOAS!

    But heck, if a postage-paid postcard isn’t going to get the lead out, what will?

    Anyway, it definitely does bear mentioning that whenever the issue of “How come the RWA doesn’t do X” comes up, there is an unmentioned problem – there’s a vocal minority of people who can define the actions they want, but it also seems there’s a non-communicative mass of people who don’t vote or take action. Whether those same nonvoting people are complaining at the same time remains to be seen.

  16. Nora Roberts says:

    I vote. I will not join a committee, will not run for office, but am thrilled to vote for those who will.

    I don’t understand the low turnouts either, in any kind of election. I especially object to those who can’t be bothered to vote bitching about leadership or policies. If you voted, bitch away. If not, shut up.

  17. Lani says:

    I’ve been out of commission with a nasty virus which has taken my entire house out, and I miss this. What, Candy, you couldn’t have waited for me? What’s wrong with you, girl?

    Candy said:
    I’m waiting for other Bitchery regulars who’ve won RITAs like Lani Diane Rich to come over and smack me into next week for impugning the honor of the majority of RITA winners, because they think I’m talking about their entire body of work instead of specific books. Le sigh. (Lani, I haven’t read Time Off for Good Behavior yet, either.)

    Oh, babe, I totally would have!!! But see above re: nasty virus. Nora has taken care of things quite nicely, though. Go, Nora!

    And get off your candy-ass and go read my book. Then you’ll be up to eleven out of fifty-one, and that sounds a lot better. 😉

    Arin Rhys wrote:
    These sort of discussions about the Romance world kind of make me glad that I write lesbian romance and therefore have no chance of ever winning one of these contests.

    I got two words for you, babe: Brokeback Mountain. Stay in the game. Things change.

    Nora wrote:
    My books aren’t everyone’s cuppa. But one day, Candy, one day the scales will fall from your eyes, and you will be mine.

    If you don’t love her for her books, people, you gotta love her for just being Nora. Damn, I adore that chick.

    Jenny wrote:
    But if we want to make the best effort we can to reward all the different genres in RWA, the breadth of the industry, if they’re for us, not for increasing sales, then what we’ve got is probably our best system.  And I think that’s what they were designed for, for our party, not for commercial purposes.

    And there’s the heart of it – the purpose of the Rita. I think the categories need a revamp, but the function is actually pretty good. It does what it’s intended to do. Winning a Rita doesn’t get you more money, but it’s nice. And they have heft. I pity the poor bastard who tries to break into Nora’s house. 😉

    Candy wrote:
    You know, I’m feeling like committing to do doing something fairly insane, like reading all of the RITA winners, because the scientist in me wants to see how the RITA works in terms of my curve, and exactly how often they award prizes to good books vs. books we like.

    Well, honey, the scientist in you can’t be objective, and for it to be scientific, you’d have to be. So it would be a big, fat waste of your time. All you’ve discovered here is that your taste matches Rita judge’s taste about 10 in 50 times. (11 in 51 after you’ve read my book.) But, smart as you are, that’s just you, babe. The books I’ve read that have won I’ve found to be pretty worthy for the most part, although there are some fabulous books I’ve read that haven’t won as well. I just don’t think it’s possible to work a contest to fit to your particular appreciation of quality, which seems to be what you’re asking. Even with your Rejar/Untie My Heart thing, you’re still expecting the Rita to match your estimation of which is the “better” book, even if it’s not the book you thought was more engaging, which means your value of “better” may not match mine.

    (That said, I read Untie My Heart, and really liked it. So it wins on both counts for me. I haven’t read Rejar, but I’m pretty sure it’s not my cuppa. Just clarifying that those are your examples, not mine.)

    Plus, we’re romance writers. We’re emotional. We read and vote with our hearts, and I think the book that speaks to our hearts is likely going to win over a more skillfully executed book. I’m not sure there’s anything wrong with that. This is a genre about passion and heart, and that’s part of the reason why I like hanging with these people. For me, when it comes down to skillful execution vs. story, I’ll pick story – as long as the execution isn’t baaaaaaad. Baaaaaaad execution will kick me out of a book, no matter how good the story might have been. But if the execution is just maybe not as skilled? Then story wins, hands down, because story matters more to me. I come to a book to be drawn in to a community of characters, a place, a story, and as long as I can believe in those things, I’m in. Now that’s me. It may not be you. And neither one of us is going to find all the Ritas fitting our taste, but I’m not sure that says anything’s really wrong with the Ritas as a whole. I think it’s just the way taste works.

    Okay, this is running long, and I’m still weak from the flu, so I apologize if I’ve repeated arguments already made. I had energy to give my opinion at the beginning of this whole thing; right now, I need a nap!

  18. Robin says:

    Plus, we’re romance writers. We’re emotional. We read and vote with our hearts, and I think the book that speaks to our hearts is likely going to win over a more skillfully executed book.

    This sounds a little like Brenda Coulter’s “Romance authors are more sensitive” thesis from a while back, but I don’t know if you meant it that way.  In any case, I think you’ve summed up why I believe neither the RITAs or Romance in general engages much mainstream interest or respect.  NOT because there’s anything lesser about speaking to the heart or emotional books—or about women’s writing, in general.  But because in such an enormous field like Romance, there’s less sense of *need* for skilled writing as fundamental to the popularity of a book (among both readers and authors, although clearly not uniformly).  Plus, IMO, there exists a built-in hostility to literary fiction that feeds a false belief that skill inevitably competes with emotional power (how about Beloved, or The Time Traveler’s Wife or The Shipping News, which has the added bonus of a happy ending, along with Black Silk, For My Lady’s Heart, To Have and To Hold, Tom and Sharon Curtis’s old Regencies).  And with books being churned out so fast, and in such volume, the prophecy becomes somewhat self-fulfilling.  NOT that there aren’t incredibly skilled writers in Romance, but the books that have crossed over haven’t been able to take the genre *as a whole* with them.

  19. Candy says:

    Well, honey, the scientist in you can’t be objective, and for it to be scientific, you’d have to be. So it would be a big, fat waste of your time.

    Hmm, I worded that particular bit poorly (shock! horror! say it ain’t so!), or at least, I don’t think I explained myself adequately. When I said “scientific,” I meant it more in a sense of testing my particular hypothesis, i.e. that the vast majority of RITA winners are mediocre and generally lacking in the sort of brilliance I’d expect to see in an award-winning book, regardless of genre. It’s not going to be particularly valid for anybody else, but I made a statement after reading a fairly small sample of RITA winners, and I’m intrigued about finding out more.

    (The pedant in me also wants to point out that scientific objectivity is all well and good, but well-nigh impossible to achieve for anything in the social sciences; biases are going to creep in, regardless of safeguards, though double-blinding helps for certain types of experiments. It helps to catch the biases early on and work around them, or acknowledge them up front and work around them.)

    That said, I’m still really, really tempted to read at least a good portion of the RITA winners, restricting myself to the genres that interest me most (i.e., short & long historical, contemporary, with the occasional category, Novel With Strong Romantic Elements and Regency thrown in). Hmm. Must make a list and see how viable this would be.

    Robin: Uh, well, yes (she said emphatically). What you said.

    Here’s a theory: SF has a well-documented and widely-acknowledged fear of girl cooties. I think Romance suffers from a variant. I’m not sure what to call it. Litfic cooties? I can understand why the backlash exists, because God knows the literati has been dogging on romance for a long time, but its fear has resulted in some of the more exasperating elements of the romance community, like its allergy to criticism, a tendency to dismiss craft concerns with “Well, it’s all due to taste, one person’s treasure is another person’s trash” and a prose-vs.-heart dichotomy.

  20. Robin says:

    Here’s a theory: SF has a well-documented and widely-acknowledged fear of girl cooties. I think Romance suffers from a variant.

    Which is ironic, because one of the complaints is that women’s fiction is devalued, thus the marginalization of Romance.  Yet women fare sooooooooooooo much better in lit fic, both in getting published and in getting recognized.  I guess people could argue that women have simply joined the old boys’ club, but that’s simply not true.  There’s a point beyond all the analysis I can generate on this issue where I. just. don’t. get. it.  Where I want to start screaming and swearing and shaking down all those “it’s only entertainment” or “you’re acting like an English professor” (well, duh to that one) comments.  Because IMO they’re so much more insulting to the genre than expecting a book to be adequately copyedited.  Which leads me to a point I forgot to make before: I think publishers encourage lesser quality in books by undervaluing authors, over-working editors, and failing to see publishing Romance as different than producing, say, Cadbury Mini Eggs (which are sitting next to my computer, thus the reference).

  21. Jane says:

    What I am hearing from Robin and Candy is that for the RITAs to have more significance would be to raise the level of the romance authorship higher than it currently is.  With the number of books published, the time in which authors get to spend on their books being shortened (by half at least), the push to publish creates a lowering of the bar, so to speak. 

    Ultimately, only a small percentage of romance books actually are well crafted.  But because we romance readers are so well trained in recognizing when we should feel things; what we should feel at certain times; etc from our many years of reading, that the lack of craft isn’t so noticeable to us, but it is clearly noticeable outside the genre.

    Thus is you pick randomly at a romance book, then you are likely to pick up a badly crafted book and assume that the entire genre is a low craft genre even though the cream of the crop – the to 10% are equal in craft to any lit fic book/mystery or sci fi.

    To argue it another way, if lit fic/mystery/sci fi were published in the same astounding numbers as romance, the ratio of dross to gold would be equal.  However, because the lit fic/mystery/sci fi are published in smaller numbers, have lower budgets, etc., the editors et al are more careful in their choices and production meaning that the current ratio of dross to gold leans heavily in their favor and against romance.

    Is this what I am hearing?

  22. Lani says:

    Robin wrote:
    This sounds a little like Brenda Coulter’s “Romance authors are more sensitive” thesis from a while back, but I don’t know if you meant it that way.

    Oh, hell, no. If I remember correctly – and correct me if I’m wrong – Brenda was saying that people shouldn’t give negative reviews to romance authors because they’re more sensitive. Which is just crazy. If the book blows chunks, it blows chunks. The reviewer owes you nothing.

    NOT because there’s anything lesser about speaking to the heart or emotional books—or about women’s writing, in general.  But because in such an enormous field like Romance, there’s less sense of *need* for skilled writing as fundamental to the popularity of a book (among both readers and authors, although clearly not uniformly).

    Well, I disagree. I think romance gets no respect because it’s girls talking about girl stuff, and you know there’s going to be a happy ending, so obviously they can’t be hard to write, and there’s no skill involved. Which is totally wrong. I don’t think there’s any less of a need for skilled writing in romance, and I think there are just as many dogs in literary fiction, percentage-wise, as there are in romance. I think romance gets no respect because the old school literary establishment was run by a bunch of people with penises…. oh hell. I just went on for four paragraphs on that which I deleted because that’s not really what we’re talking about. It’s a whole ‘nother discussion.

    But what I was talking about was the judging. And how romance writers are emotional. I know I’m wrangling a broad brush on this, but I’ll stand by it. I mean, if you’re not looking for emotional payout, why are you writing romance? Or reading it? The same way you look to be scared in the horror genre. So, when a romance author reads a romance, she wants to be swept away emotionally, and I think will judge based on what the book does for her emotionally, rather than necessarily the “skill” involved.

    And let me clarify more – I put skill in quotes for a real reason. I have basic expectations from a book – a handle on grammar, good dialogue, characters I can get behind, a conflict I can respect. If you’ve got those things, and your craft is good enough to keep me engaged in the story, but maybe not as good as someone who kept me less engaged, then, IMO, the better book is the one that kept me. For me, that’s where the real skill is at. I’m a very blue-collar writer. I go in, I get my job done, and I get out. I don’t describe things unless I think they’re important, and I don’t talk about stuff that doesn’t matter to the story. I end up skimming so much of what I read because I want story, and I’m given a detailed description of a rolltop desk. The more I have to skim, the harder the book hits the wall. So, for me, true skill and craft is about keeping the reader in the story, however you do it. I find some others have a different yardstick, and that’s okay. I’m talking about me.

    So, when I’m talking about skill vs. “skill” I’m talking about the very real, very difficult, and very crafty need to keep the reader emotionally engaged in the story vs. the ability to skillfully describe a butterfly dancing on the wind. If the butterfly serves your story, great. If not, it’s just so much literary wanking, which is where good craft goes bad. So a lot of this discussion hinges on my definition of “skill,” which I think varies even more when you bring literary fiction expectations into the mix.

    Plus, IMO, there exists a built-in hostility to literary fiction that feeds a false belief that skill inevitably competes with emotional power

    Hmmm. I don’t believe the two are mutually exclusive. I’ve read a lot of emotionally powerful books that are also really well-written. What I was saying is that if you keep me in the story, I’ll forgive minor violations of craft. The Harry Potter series comes to mind. I don’t think anyone will argue that JK Rowling’s prose is anything to write home about, but damn, the woman can spin a yarn. That’s where I’m coming from. I’m in it for the yarn.

    And now I have an odd urge to knit…

  23. Lani says:

    Candy wrote:
    I think Romance suffers from a variant. I’m not sure what to call it. Litfic cooties? I can understand why the backlash exists, because God knows the literati has been dogging on romance for a long time, but its fear has resulted in some of the more exasperating elements of the romance community, like its allergy to criticism, a tendency to dismiss craft concerns with “Well, it’s all due to taste, one person’s treasure is another person’s trash” and a prose-vs.-heart dichotomy.

    I don’t see an allergy to criticism in romance. I see a lack of truly intelligent, honest reviewers. There are a lot of review sites out there that never give less than 4 stars. That’s crazy. And it’s not because authors are whining; nobody cares when we whine, trust me. Maybe it’s because we’re (mostly) girls and we don’t want to be mean? I have no idea. But no one’s saying honest reviewers can’t do their job. These reviewers might get backlash for their unflattering reviews, but I don’t think any more than any other genre. Loads of authors think they’re above reproach, and not all of them write romance.

    And I don’t dismiss craft concerns, so much as I think that a good story matters more, and in the end, the better book for me is the one that keeps me engaged. You can’t keep me engaged if your craft sucks, it has to be good, but does it have to be all buttery? No.

    Nor do I think that “one man’s trash is another man’s treasure” is an argument worthy of dismissal. It’s true. There’s no one yardstick by which to measure a quality book. There are books that I think are awful which other people enjoyed, and you know what? God bless. Go to it. Have your Bridges of Madison County and eat it, too. Life’s too short.

    Craft is important. It’s very important, and ignore it to your peril. But once your craft is good enough, story is what makes the book. Of course, this argument separates story from craft, which is a faulty place to jump from because good story is part of overall good craft. I guess my argument is that the better book for you is the one that engaged you more, and one man’s trash is another man’s treasure. It’s just true.

    But some trash is just trash. 🙂

  24. Robin says:

    With the number of books published, the time in which authors get to spend on their books being shortened (by half at least), the push to publish creates a lowering of the bar, so to speak.

    Ultimately, only a small percentage of romance books actually are well crafted.  But because we romance readers are so well trained in recognizing when we should feel things; what we should feel at certain times; etc from our many years of reading, that the lack of craft isn’t so noticeable to us, but it is clearly noticeable outside the genre.

    Thus is you pick randomly at a romance book, then you are likely to pick up a badly crafted book and assume that the entire genre is a low craft genre even though the cream of the crop – the to 10% are equal in craft to any lit fic book/mystery or sci fi.

    Yes, except that I don’t think readers miss the craft stuff so much as they overlook or look beyond it without letting it drag them down.  But in general, yes.

  25. Robin says:

    If I remember correctly – and correct me if I’m wrong – Brenda was saying that people shouldn’t give negative reviews to romance authors because they’re more sensitive.

    Actually what she was saying was that only peers (i.e. other authors) are able to truly evaluate Romance novels because Romance authors are more sensitive and only other authors understand, well whatever it is they’re supposed to understand.  I can see how your argument, as you continue to spin it out, is different from hers, despite the appeal to the “Romance authors are emotional” argument you have (to which I’d be interested in seeing other authors respond).

    As to your opinions on lit fic and on the general acceptance of Romance, if it’s all about a denial of women writing about women’s stuff, then why are romantic comedies sooooooo popular in film form?  Why did The Piano win 3 Oscars and why was it nominated for best picture?  Why did Alan Ball go back on his promise to leave television in order to turn Charlaine Harris’s Southern Vampire series into an HBO series (although Anna Paquin as Sookie is an outrage)?  Why is Oprah so successful?

    The longer I read Romance and participate in the online community, the less convinced I am that Romance’s exclusion is a dismissal of women’s issues.  The less I’m convinced it has anything to do with the literati or with patriarchy.  Because I don’t give a crap whether men respect the genre or academics as a rule.  But many of my friends are not college educated and THEY won’t read Romance, despite being very very oriented toward women’s issues and movies about women’s issues.  I have a number of friends who are much more girly than I am, much more sentimental, too, who only like happy endings, and who won’t touch Romance with a ten foot pole. 

    I don’t think the mainstream women who reject Romance do so because it’s about women—or because they’re AT ALL influenced by the “literati” (whoever they are, anyway).  And inside the Romance community?  OMG there is some ugly shit that goes on, from women to other women.  And there’s still the vestiges of Fabio and clinch covers and all sorts of things INSIDE the genre that I think have a way more negative influence on how the genre is perceived.  And add on to that the so many of the books aren’t well crafted, I can see the marginalization. 

    Romance is sort of a paradigm, generically speaking, and once people get into the paradigm it makes sense and certain things are understood.  I KNOW I make compromises when I read Romance for the sake of other things (although I don’t think I’ve ever come across a book that’s flawlessly executed and boring to me, which is sort of interesting).  But getting people into the paradigm is a different thing, and that’s where I think Romance can be its own worst enemy.  I made the shift because I was fortunate enough to get a detailed list of books to start with—Gaffney, Kinsale, Ivory, Tom and Sharon Curtis, etc.  I don’t think anyone who reads Romance doesn’t want the emotional punch, the compelling story.  But I still don’t buy that “good story” is any more universally agreed upon than “romantic” or “sensual” or “emotionally satisfying.”  But I do think there are some elements of craft—beyond good grammar and coherent writing—that are more objectively identifiable in a judging situation. That’s why I like the rubric anonymous was talking about.  It may not change the winners, but it *may* change the way books move through the judging process and the way they’re read as part of that process.  NOT because judges don’t notice all these things, but because there’s a difference between breaking them down in the scoring and assigning one final grade, and that difference, in the aggregate, might change things significantly for a lot of books.

  26. Candy says:

    I don’t see an allergy to criticism in romance. I see a lack of truly intelligent, honest reviewers. There are a lot of review sites out there that never give less than 4 stars. That’s crazy. And it’s not because authors are whining; nobody cares when we whine, trust me.

    Ah, see, I view the lack of honest, intelligent criticism as a symptom of the allergy. I’m certainly not referring solely to the select few authors who are all “Wah wah wah, you gave me a bad score!” There are the rabid fangirls to take into account, too, but mostly, it’s the huuuuge number of readers and reviewers who subscribe to the “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all” policy. The romance community is very good at fostering close, almost claustrophobic ties; it’s almost like we’re huddled in the trenches at the Maginot line, and we’re all “Lookit, the Big Bad World is nasty enough, so why be mean to each other?” There’s a lot of pressure to be nice, nice, nice, and it by no means comes solely from authors.

    Here’s something I haven’t told a whole lot of people: I often felt pressured to review nicer during my very brief stint at AAR. Yeah, AAR, which in terms of review websites, is pretty much the best out there in terms of quality and output. And even there, I would stress out at every C and D I handed out, because I was worried I wasn’t being nice enough, and oh my GOD what’s wrong with me? Why didn’t I like these books more?

    And part of the reason why Sarah and I started this site was because I wanted the freedom to not be nice, and to occasionally send a smackdown (or even friendly middle finger) to the romance community if I thought it deserved it.

    And I don’t dismiss craft concerns, so much as I think that a good story matters more, and in the end, the better book for me is the one that keeps me engaged.

    Yes, the story matters a whole lot when it comes to personal preference, and I’m not denying it. And frankly, I think we need to be less snobby about appreciating crappy books, too—it peeves me when people conflate bad taste with lack of intelligence or some sort of moral failure. Bad taste is just just bad taste.

    Nor do I think that “one man’s trash is another man’s treasure” is an argument worthy of dismissal. It’s true. There’s no one yardstick by which to measure a quality book.

    No, but I do think there are more-or-less objective markers for books that are good, regardless of whether we like them. I’ve used all sorts of analogies, from food to other books, to no avail, so I won’t harp on that point again. *crowd breathes sigh of relief*

    There are books that I think are awful which other people enjoyed, and you know what? God bless. Go to it. Have your Bridges of Madison County and eat it, too. Life’s too short.

    I’m not trying to argue that everyone should LIKE the better-crafted book if it wasn’t to their taste. I’m trying to make a case that people should make more of an attempt to acknowledge that these books are skillfully, even masterfully crafted, even if they weren’t the Bestest Squishiest Thing Evar.

    And mostly, I’m trying to make the point that for awards, craft needs to be a bigger concern than it currently seems to be.

    Of course, this argument separates story from craft, which is a faulty place to jump from because good story is part of overall good craft.

    Hmmm, good point. I’ll have to ponder this a bit more, though, because REALLY good craft can make clunky storylines work, and really good stories (or stories that push certain buttons of mine) can cover all sorts of craft wonkiness.

  27. Robin says:

    The romance community is very good at fostering close, almost claustrophobic ties; it’s almost like we’re huddled in the trenches at the Maginot line, and we’re all “Lookit, the Big Bad World is nasty enough, so why be mean to each other?” There’s a lot of pressure to be nice, nice, nice, and it by no means comes solely from authors.

    I can’t remember where I saw it, but one of the PBR women said that they still receive strong comments (most in email form) about the type of reviewing they do.  AAR apparently still gets author ire, as well.  And I think as we’ve all seen, that pressure to be nice ultimately results in a lot of not nice stuff, often in the guise of chastising those who aren’t supposedly being nice.  After a while, I lose track of who’s supposed to be the “nice” one in a lot of these scuffles.  In my job, I deal with a lot of “hate speech” issues, and it never ceases to amaze me when people who are offended by someone else’s speech basically threaten and insult you (as well as the offending party) as a way to try to get you to do something about it (because free speech should only be free for some people, ya know).

  28. Lani says:

    Robin wrote:
    As to your opinions on lit fic and on the general acceptance of Romance, if it’s all about a denial of women writing about women’s stuff, then why are romantic comedies sooooooo popular in film form?  Why did The Piano win 3 Oscars and why was it nominated for best picture?  Why did Alan Ball go back on his promise to leave television in order to turn Charlaine Harris’s Southern Vampire series into an HBO series (although Anna Paquin as Sookie is an outrage)?  Why is Oprah so successful?

    Romantic comedies are not typically blockbusters. They’re cheap to make, and they’re good date movies, so they’re a staple, but very rarely does one win an Oscar. As a matter of fact, I can’t think of a romantic comedy in recent years that was so much as nominated. I could be wrong, but I’m drawing a blank at the moment.

    If The Piano were a book, it would be literary, not romance.

    And Oprah is extremely powerful and wealthy, but mocked and marginalized by “sophisticated and intelligent” circles as much as romance is.

    Is your argument that anyone with success who has a vagina invalidates the literati-marginalizing-women argument? I’m not sure I follow. And none of this applies anyway because they’re not books, except the Charlaine Harris thing, but television has been traditionally marginalized as well, and is not mainstream literati. We’re talking about romance novels being marginalized in literary circles because they’re girly, and they guarantee a happy ending. Which was my argument and I still stand by it.

    The longer I read Romance and participate in the online community, the less convinced I am that Romance’s exclusion is a dismissal of women’s issues. The less I’m convinced it has anything to do with the literati or with patriarchy.

    I’m not sure that’s what I said. The literati loves women being raped, murdered, beaten, etc. Hell, Oprah’s even a fan of that stuff. But female community, where women can celebrate girl stuff and have a happy ending? Not so much. I’ll buy your argument to a point. I mean, horror’s a guy thing and it’s been typically marginalized as well, but romance is very much bottom of the barrel, and I think a lot of that has to do with a long tradition of men deciding what’s quality and what’s not. I could be wrong. I often am. But this is where my thinking is right now.

    Because I don’t give a crap whether men respect the genre or academics as a rule.  But many of my friends are not college educated and THEY won’t read Romance, despite being very very oriented toward women’s issues and movies about women’s issues. I have a number of friends who are much more girly than I am, much more sentimental, too, who only like happy endings, and who won’t touch Romance with a ten foot pole.

    This speaks to the idea that romance is being marginalized by the mainstream – otherwise, your friends would read a romance book before dismissing the genre as a whole – but doesn’t support your argument as to why, that the marginalization doesn’t have to do with the books being girly. I don’t follow your point here; all this supports is the marginalization, which is what we agree on.

    I don’t think the mainstream women who reject Romance do so because it’s about women—or because they’re AT ALL influenced by the “literati” (whoever they are, anyway).

    Then why are they rejecting the books out of hand without reading some first?

    And inside the Romance community?  OMG there is some ugly shit that goes on, from women to other women.

    No argument there. Still has nothing to do with the why of it all.

    And there’s still the vestiges of Fabio and clinch covers and all sorts of things INSIDE the genre that I think have a way more negative influence on how the genre is perceived.  And add on to that the so many of the books aren’t well crafted, I can see the marginalization.

    Oh, honey, I’m with you on the covers. Unfortunately, that’s a marketing-vs.-taste issue. Those stupid clinch covers sell books, so it’s a necessary evil on the business end. Although I’m seeing loads less of them now than in times past. Here’s hoping they’re dead for good.

    And, sure, there are a lot of dogs in romance, but I’d argue there are as many in other genres. So why do the dogs in romance count more against the perception of our genre more than the others? There are only two big differences; we sell more, and we’re girls.

    I don’t think anyone who reads Romance doesn’t want the emotional punch, the compelling story.  But I still don’t buy that “good story” is any more universally agreed upon than “romantic” or “sensual” or “emotionally satisfying.”

    Which brings us full circle back to the fact that any judging is going to be influenced by that person’s perception of these values, and will not be a total match for anyone. I liked anonymous’s suggestion, too; I think a detailed score sheet could help the judges maybe think a little more about the scores they give before they give them.

  29. Jane says:

    I think the pressure to be nice comes alot from the authors.  Mean girls, anyone?  Mrs. Giggles, for the longest time, was held up to be reviled by authors and the romance community.

  30. Jane says:

    Let me say another thing that bothers me immensely and leads to a further denigration of the genre and that is the covers and then the subsequent promotion of things like Mr. Romance and the “hot men” of the day.  To me, that sort of thing panders mercilessly toward the idea that the genre is smut filled.

    Frankly if all the covers of my husband’s novels were with scantily clad women, I would have some question as to the content and validity of the content too.

  31. Jane says:

    Oh, honey, I’m with you on the covers. Unfortunately, that’s a marketing-vs.-taste issue. Those stupid clinch covers sell books, so it’s a necessary evil on the business end. Although I’m seeing loads less of them now than in times past. Here’s hoping they’re dead for good.

    They are not and here’s why.  In this age of increasing hybridization of romances with other genres (paranormal, erotic), the only way a reader can trust that a romance is a romance is by the cover.  I have yet to pick up a man titty book and not find a romance.  A cover with a shoe? A quilt? A woman?  A feather?  could be anything inside there.

    I have to rely on the covers I hate the most because of the publishers increasing attempts to mislead me in my purchases.  (am I still bitter about cameron dean series?  Oh yeah).

    But I still dislike seeing on the web and other places *cough* RT Convention *cough* the celebration of the man titty going hand in hand with the celebration of romance books.

  32. Candy says:

    Mrs. Giggles, for the longest time, was held up to be reviled by authors and the romance community.

    OK, can we all take a moment and savor the PURE VITRIOLIC AWESOME that is Mrs. Giggles? I remember stumbling across her website in, ohhh, 1998 or 1999, and feeling both gleeful and horrified at what she dared to say, and somewhat envious of her freedom.

    If it weren’t for Mrs. Giggles, Sarah and I probably wouldn’t have had the balls to start this site. She is the pioneer of the “brutally honest” school of reviewing in the romance community.

    I can’t remember where I saw it, but one of the PBR women said that they still receive strong comments (most in email form) about the type of reviewing they do.  AAR apparently still gets author ire, as well.

    Want to hear something weird? Sarah and I haven’t received all that much hatemail about our reviews. Actually, I haven’t received ANY. The head of the Cassie Edwards fan club sent me a very reproachful but polite e-mail about the way I rag on Edwards, but that’s only to be expected. Perhaps because of our stated policy on our Contact Us page, or maybe because we’re So Utterly Awesome and Right About Everything All the Time *snrk*. Or (and this is most likely) because we’re small-time compared to AAR and haven’t attracted quite as many of the crazies as they have, and what crazies there are don’t feel like tangling with either Sarah or me.

  33. Lani says:

    Candy wrote:
    I’m certainly not referring solely to the select few authors who are all “Wah wah wah, you gave me a bad score!” There are the rabid fangirls to take into account, too, but mostly, it’s the huuuuge number of readers and reviewers who subscribe to the “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all” policy.

    Well, here’s the thing. In the same way that authors are supposed to sit back and take it when their books get trashed, reviewers who prize their ability to say what they think need to be able to handle the backlash as well. You and Sarah do that; lots of others just can’t handle it, so they waste their time making smiley faces about books they don’t like. I used to review theater, and I got shit for my stuff all the time. But I sucked it up because I had a job to do. So again, I say, the onus is on the reviewers to take what they dish out.

    That’s onus. Not anus. Read it again.

    Dirty mind.

    Although, really, any author out there who argues with a reviewer is misguided to say the least. You can’t argue with an opinion, and all ink is good ink, so even if you hate my book, you’re doing me a favor by giving me the time of day. I’m not saying it doesn’t sting, I’m just saying a glass of wine and stepping away from the computer takes the sting out.

    No, but I do think there are more-or-less objective markers for books that are good, regardless of whether we like them. I’ve used all sorts of analogies, from food to other books, to no avail, so I won’t harp on that point again. *crowd breathes sigh of relief*

    Okay, so you’re saying that 40 of the 50 Rita-winning books you read didn’t even make your more-or-less objective markers? Really? If that’s the case, then maybe your more-or-less objective markers aren’t as objective as you might think. I have pretty high standards for books I consider quality. They don’t have to be perfect on all counts, but they have to live up to the standard. And, despite what it may sound like here, my standards are pretty high. Ask the poor bitches who’ve gotten critiques from me. I’m not a pushover when it comes to craft, trust me, and I’m not saying a few dogs won’t slip by and win a Rita. It happens. But forty out of fifty? I haven’t read as many Rita winners as you, but the ones I’ve read, I’ve understood why they won.

    I’m not trying to argue that everyone should LIKE the better-crafted book if it wasn’t to their taste. I’m trying to make a case that people should make more of an attempt to acknowledge that these books are skillfully, even masterfully crafted, even if they weren’t the Bestest Squishiest Thing Evar.

    You know, I’m doing a lot of devil’s advocating here because I’m sick and cranky, but I do get your points about understanding basic quality. I just think it’s more subjective than you do. And, when it comes to books that have reached Rita-winner level, this is where I’m saying that good story wins over buttery prose. I’m assuming that they’ve got basic craft on their side, because the one’s I’ve read have. Maybe that’s where we’re butting heads.

    Hmmm, good point. I’ll have to ponder this a bit more, though, because REALLY good craft can make clunky storylines work, and really good stories (or stories that push certain buttons of mine) can cover all sorts of craft wonkiness.

    See, this is where I disagree. Really good craft and bad story means nothing to me. But if the story’s bad, then the only “really good craft” they can have comes down to buttery prose and delectable description, which I don’t value so much. And a really good story will only cover up so much basic craft wonkiness, but – for me – to a much greater extent than good craft, bad story.

    And again, I’m separating story from craft, which is wrong, wrong, wrong.

    And the fact is, like most arguments, if we argue it enough, we’ll end up realizing we actually agree.

  34. Nora Roberts says:

    ~Hmmm, good point. I’ll have to ponder this a bit more, though, because REALLY good craft can make clunky storylines work, and really good stories (or stories that push certain buttons of mine) can cover all sorts of craft wonkiness. ~

    True. Both ways are true.

    But I think there’s a difference between the craft and the technical. If using the rules someone listed for judging that were heavy on technical merit, but the hero was sleezy—the judge, the reader was put off by the hero and his actions, felt sorry for the heroine stuck with him, etc, the book is a failure to me.

    A technically perfect book doesn’t equal a good book to me. Craft must build a story (hopefully with good techical skills) that engages the reader. If it’s a romance, shouldn’t the reader be involved with the romantic development, rather than thinking: Run away, heroine, run!

    I’m not talking about personal quirks here. (My asshole ex-boyfriend was a blond who liked Pop Tarts, ergo blond hero who eats Pop Tarts is a sleezebag like my ex.) I mean legitimate actions and character traits that equal sleeze.

    Craft builds and sculpts the story, the layers of it, whole of it, and technical skills are the nuts and bolts that hold that story together.

    I’d enjoy more—and rate a book higher—if it was a lovely, engaging creation, with a few loose screws than I would a sound creation that lacked appeal at the core.

    (PS. I don’t think I dare look closely at the Cartland covers tonight. By eyes are already blown.)

  35. Jane says:

    Well, here’s the thing. In the same way that authors are supposed to sit back and take it when their books get trashed, reviewers who prize their ability to say what they think need to be able to handle the backlash as well.

    Right, but it’s supposed to be about the book, and not anything personal. But the “backlash” is often personal as in what Ann Vremont did with Karen Scott.  Or in calling a reviewer a “mean girl.” That’s not ad hominem?  If I said an author was dumb or stupid or that my big toe could write better prose, that would be enough to send people for the munitions tent. 

    Author or fangirl saying that about a reviewer?  Fair game.

  36. Lani says:

    Jane wrote:
    Let me say another thing that bothers me immensely and leads to a further denigration of the genre and that is the covers and then the subsequent promotion of things like Mr. Romance and the “hot men” of the day.  To me, that sort of thing panders mercilessly toward the idea that the genre is smut filled.

    Hallelujah, pumpkin. I never understood all that, and to be honest, it kind of creeps me out.

    I have to rely on the covers I hate the most because of the publishers increasing attempts to mislead me in my purchases.  (am I still bitter about cameron dean series?  Oh yeah).

    I swear, I’m not snarking, but that’s why they’ve got back cover copy. I write back cover copy for romances, and my job is to play up the romance angle. Plus, if it’s in the romance section… I’m not familiar with the Cameron Dean series, so I’m not qualified to comment on that, but I think the vast majority of novels that are sold as romances in the romance section are actual romances, man-titty or no. I can see getting burned once or twice, but enough to justify all that man-titty? Dear God, I hope not.

    Candy wrote:
    OK, can we all take a moment and savor the PURE VITRIOLIC AWESOME that is Mrs. Giggles?

    And another hallelujah. She’s only reviewed me once, and she wasn’t a fan, and I don’t share her taste, but damn if she isn’t fun to read. And she says what she thinks, which I love.

  37. Nora Roberts says:

    ~To me, that sort of thing panders mercilessly toward the idea that the genre is smut filled.~

    Oh yeah, howdy.

    But it’s not going to stop (Mr. Romance type stuff) until authors stop participating. If readers want to, that’s fine for them. But if authors participate in stuff like this, they’ve got no leg to cry on re perception other than their own.

  38. Jane says:

    I swear, I’m not snarking, but that’s why they’ve got back cover copy. I write back cover copy for romances, and my job is to play up the romance angle. Plus, if it’s in the romance section… I’m not familiar with the Cameron Dean series, so I’m not qualified to comment on that, but I think the vast majority of novels that are sold as romances in the romance section are actual romances, man-titty or no.

    Maybe for historicals but for erotic “romances” and paranormals, the trends seems to be this idea that you can write a book that may have a happy ever after 10 books down the road (or may not) or even kill off a main character and slap the romance label on it.  Read the customer reviews for Cameron Dean’s Luscious Cravings which I think is the third in the series on Amazon.

    Suzanne Forster’s Harlequin Spice back cover copy read like a romance.  It was not.  Aphrodisia’s editors came out and said that they were looking for erotic books but that they didn’t need to fit the traditional HEA.  So yeah, romance hybridization seems like it is gaining steam.

  39. Lani says:

    Jane wrote:
    Right, but it’s supposed to be about the book, and not anything personal. But the “backlash” is often personal as in what Ann Vremont did with Karen Scott.  Or in calling a reviewer a “mean girl.” That’s not ad hominem?  If I said an author was dumb or stupid or that my big toe could write better prose, that would be enough to send people for the munitions tent. 

    Author or fangirl saying that about a reviewer?  Fair game.

    No. It’s really not.

    Look, it’s not right, any more than the vicious, personal book reviews (which also happen) are right. I’m saying that if you’re going to put stuff out there, author or reviewer, you have to be ready to handle what results, even if it’s CRAZY RABID FANGIRLS. ALL CAPS. If you’re gonna be honest, you’re gonna piss people off. How you handle it from that point on is up to you. And if you’re honest, even if I don’t agree with your taste, I have no argument with you. It’s the ones who make nice to everyone because they can’t handle not being “nice” that are wasting everyone’s time.

  40. Candy says:

    Well, here’s the thing. In the same way that authors are supposed to sit back and take it when their books get trashed, reviewers who prize their ability to say what they think need to be able to handle the backlash as well.

    There’s more than fear of backlash working here, I think. The more I think about this, the more I think it’s about fear of being rejected, of being cut off, of being a pariah in the community. It’s about girls being exhorted to be nice, OR ELSE. The onus (heh heh, onus) isn’t just on reviewers. It’s on women in general, and it’s tied up with how we’re taught to interact with each other, and the expectations on our behavior and what’s allowable for us to say, and the ways we punish each other for infractions.

    Okay, so you’re saying that 40 of the 50 Rita-winning books you read didn’t even make your more-or-less objective markers? Really? If that’s the case, then maybe your more-or-less objective markers aren’t as objective as you might think.

    It’s not that those 40-ish or so books were AWFUL. Many were just…mediocre. Perfectly passable books, as far as they went. Very, very few that I’ve read were awful (I just noticed that a Karen Marie Moning book won a RITA! Ohhh, boy, my hopes are high [low?] for that one). But here’s the thing, and the thrust of my point: these books weren’t award-winning material. Even the books I read and really enjoyed, like My Dearest Enemy and Devilish. I expect award-winning material to be outstanding in some way or another, even if it’s outstanding in ways I don’t necessarily enjoy. I expected the RITA winners to bust my grade curve, not conform to it so closely.

    Jennifer Crusie made the point that awards tend to be given to the more middle-of-the-road, and that may be true, but dammit, middle-of-the-road, traditional stories can still be rendered extraordinary. Bet Me was a good old-fashioned fairy tale retelling, and it worked stupendously well on a lot of levels, even though it clanked in a couple of spots. The Proposition by Judith Ivory was essentially Pygmalion with the genders reversed, and God knows it’s a story that’s been told and re-told to death, but Judith Ivory made it extraordinary because she is a mofuckin’ PIMP.

    Really good craft and bad story means nothing to me. But if the story’s bad, then the only “really good craft” they can have comes down to buttery prose and delectable description, which I don’t value so much. And a really good story will only cover up so much basic craft wonkiness, but – for me – to a much greater extent than good craft, bad story.

    And again, I’m separating story from craft, which is wrong, wrong, wrong.

    Hmmm, I think this boils down to me placing more-or-less equal importance on craftsmanship as story, while you place a great deal more importance on story vs. craftsmanship.

    I’m not so sure that story is inseparable from craft. Plot elements are an integral part of craft, perhaps, but story? I think it’s possible to boil books down to their essential stories, and I can think of a few instances in which different authors took that same story and created very different renditions, with different results in terms of quality.

    But are we perhaps talking about different things here? You’re talking plot details, and I’m thinking more in terms of arc?

    And Jane, dude, I adore you, but really: don’t rely on the covers. Ever. EV. AR.

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