More on Black Romance

I went a Google-hunting for a few links to Black romance reviews until I find find time on my tuffet to write some myself, and I found a very interesting article by Gwendolyn Osborne, aka “The Word Diva,” on AALBC.com. In her examination of Black romance, It’s All About Love, Osborne examines the stereotypes and issues facing romance, but more specifically, Black romance and the Black readers of romance novels. In short, Black romance fights the preconceptions about romance, as well as preconceptions and prejudices about Black women, and Black relationships. Note: I don’t know when this article was written, so if these quotes are profoundly out of date, I apologize.

Drawing from quotes from authors like Beverly Jenkins as well as from romance readers, Osborne examines the growth of the Black romance subgenre, and the social realities faced both by readers and by the characters within the novels:

[Renee A. Redd, director of Northwestern University’s Women’s Center, says] “They [romance novels] offer a substitute for those who have resigned to never really being able to find a fulfilling love in their actual lives. The reality of a dearth of available straight Black men for straight Black women is a disconcerting and painful issue before us. For a long time we have lived with the idea of the strong Black woman, who by implication can do without a romantic relationship if she must, but the truth is that she would rather not.”

This acknowledgement the social reality of the lack of marriageable African American men denotes the difference between sister-girl fiction and romance fiction, says second-generation romance reader Jean Dalton of New York City. “In Waiting to Exhale, four educated and successful Black women sat around complaining about Black men who were unable to commit, preferred white women, unemployed, incarcerated, gay, adulterous or sexually inadequate, etc. African-American romance heroines are more in charge of their futures. They aren’t sitting around waiting to exhale.”

Black romance heroines are located within a unique – and important – social and political culture, both in the fiction worlds they inhabit, and as part of the world inhabited by their readers.

While the theme of many contemporary romances relies heavily on the self-actualization of the heroine, Black romances also navigate a minefield as they struggle to portray Black protagonists that are very, very different from the majority of images of Black relationships portrayed in popular entertainment media:

As Emma Rodgers of Dallas’ Black Images Book Bazaar says, “African-American romance novels are so popular because they reflect the values of the majority of the Black community [better] than most other types of media. The men and women are educated professionals, gainfully employed . . . or are entrepreneurs, upwardly mobile. The women are independent, career-minded with goals. Both are law-abiding citizens. Readers seldom see these images reflected on the evening news or in the daily paper.”

But soft! What criticism from scholars through yonder window breaks? It is the critics, and they don’t like the sex. No, seriously: the idea of sexual content in a Black romance is a target of some sharp criticism, because the “the open sexual expression in romance novels can only reinforce negative stereotypes about Black women’s sexuality. Renee Redd says, ‘I think most Black women still believe that the sexual expressiveness allowed the women in romance novels and to women of other races is not equally extended to Black women.’”

Plus, there’s that lovely old romance=porn accusation, which of course raises it’s engorged and stupid head everywhere it goes. Hooray for Shareta Caldwell who, like many readers of romance, can actually tell the difference between romance novels and pornography: “Romances portray love, romance, and sensuality in an positive adult manner.  In romance novels, a man puts a woman’s pleasure first. This is not the case in pornography.”

Jennifer Coates of Chicago enjoys the committed relationships depicted in African-American romances. “In other media, we see intimate relationships being treated casually—like a handshake, but not that personal. The romance, the courting, the mystery seems to have disappeared from contemporary literature.” Coates cites Beverly Jenkins’ Night Song among her favorites because the interaction between the hero and heroine “demonstrates their appreciation and love for one another and solidified their relationship for me, elevating their sharing and mutual respect from a by-product, to the backbone of their intimate exchanges.”

Osborne’s article also examines cover art – a graceful curtsey to Ms. Osborne because, well, that’s just plain awesome and important. Boy howdy, is it important. Black romances not only face criticism as to their content, but also the cover art – whether it’s “Black enough” or “too Black.” One article cited featured a quote from an unnamed magazine publisher who stated that romance covers featuring Black characters in “Afrocentric styles” might make white readers uncomfortable. This same publisher said that covers without people would be preferable.

(White reader Sarah says: “What a bunch of unmitigated poppycock.”)

Readers cited in the article disagree: “Shareta Caldwell says, ‘I like it when there are Black faces on the books, especially if the cover is an accurate portrait of the character in the book. That is the reason I picked up Beverly Jenkins’ Indigo. I loved the picture. And I don’t like the idea of fooling people by not having real Black people on the front. If White readers can’t get past the braids, locks, bald-heads, and Black skin on the cover, then how are they going to get through the book?’”

Osborne’s examination of Black romance ends with an assessment that the genre is evolving as more authors publish in mainstream fiction, and as new authors enter the genre. But the various influences entering Black romance concerned one reader, who is unwilling to see what she views as a more courtship-and-commitment focused narrative become more influenced by “hip-hop values:” “Courtship, marriage, commitment and sex are definitely seen differently by this generation,” says reader Jeanette Cogdell who, according to the article, reviews books at Romance In Color.

Which generation, I wonder. Osborne’s final statement, that “Readers are drawn to the romance genre because the stories provide an escape and are devoid of racial conflict, gratuitous sex and profanity,” undermines and contradicts some of the statements made by readers and writers in the article itself, especially that the stories are devoid of sex or acknowledgment of racial conflict. But Osborne’s examination brought my attention to elements of Black romance that I hadn’t known about. The evolving image of Black in American popular culture is an issue that’s been examined with greater focus, it seems, in the past few years, but is the idea of books focusing on female sexual experience going to underscore or somehow validate negative sexual stereotypes of Black women? If scholars and critics distrust Black romance for its focus on Black female sexuality, what would the appropriate venue be for an exploration of the topic? Already erotica received a big boost in it’s turgid longevity by the strength and backlist of writers like Noire and Zane – I wonder what those same scholars and critics would say about the influence of those writers on the erotica market as a whole.

 

 

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  1. Mac says:

    Shannon:

    But as stereotypes go…maybe not such a bad one. I wouldnt mind having a reputation for being an awesome dancer.

    Oh wow, you are really young.  *hugs you* 

    Okay, you’re in high school, and you’re learning, and you have your entire life ahead of you to learn more.  And so I don’t want to yell at you, but you are saying some extremely old and extremely hurtful things here.

    Look—it’s all very well having these “positive” stereotypes until you’re the black kid who can’t dance (or doesn’t want to) or can’t sing or would rather read a book—then when you’re asked to “perform” like a monkey, and you can’t or won’t, or happen to be shy, or happen to not WANT to perform on cue like a circus animal, somebody accuses you of not being “black” enough—as if that had ANYTHING to do with your pigmentation, hair type, or bone structure.  (Why yes, this has in fact happened to me. “Hey, MAC can do it, why don’t YOU dance for everyone???” Thankfully, not much since high school.  And thankfully, high school is not at all representative of the actual world.)

    Male promiscuity is seen as favorable and positive and awesome and hey, your a player, your not a man-whore.

    Oh god—again, Shannon, the post-high-school world—especially the non-homogenous, post “whitest-school-ever” world—is VERY different.  Black male promiscuity is NOT seen as a positive.  It’s the reason why the Susan Smiths of the world can get away with killing their children and saying that a black man did it—and why they will STILL, in the twenty first century, be believed, sending out manhunts to harrass innocent black men.  (Did you see “Freedomland”?  Or hell—did you see “Harold and Kumar go to White Castle”?  Did you understand why the black-guy-in-jail scene was funny?)  It was an excuse for hanging black men from trees and setting them on fire in the United States for hundreds of years. (Have you read or seen “To Kill a Mockingbird”?  Read any James Baldwin?  I reccommend “If Beale Street Could Talk” and “The Fire Next Time.”) It’s the reason candiates for president can gain millions of votes by talking about protecting the US from “welfare queens” (that is to say, black women who have illegitimate children on purpose to score more money from the government) even though welfare exists for the majority—white people (there’s only 11 percent black people in America, and the majority of them are NOT on welfare, so only a tiny fraction of this money is going to black women, yet the stereotype is so pervasive that it has been hurled at black American women by MALAYSIANS.  IN MALAYSIA.)

    In light of that, your comment here is PARTICULARLY squicky.

    it was always black male sexuality that was feared (with good reason, there be some damn good looking black men) by white men.

    EW.

    I understand you’re not trying to justify Jim Crow and lynching by saying it was done “because black men are hot,” but you are coming pretty close.

    Would I mind having a reputation for being an easy lay? Yeah. But I think that, no offense, you dont just get that. Girls in my school dont get that kind of reputation from no where, they earn it, the few black girls included. I just assume that that extends beyond my high school. If it doesnt, I apologize. Again, I’m just working off of what I know.

    No, you really don’t know.  And no, it doesn’t extend. It really, really doesn’t not extend beyond your high school with the nine black girls in it.  You are living in a VERY UNIQUE microcosm, there. I am glad you have never encountered, as I have, rather often, a cab driver you never met before who assumed that because you were a black American woman, you were an unmarried welfare mom who’d appreciate grossly sexual comments (including ones about your parents) and would be an easy pickup-and-discard. To put it politely. But this is not a universal experience.

    Has “how many kids you got” ever been used as a “romantic” opening line to you by a guy?  “I love black women” while staring at your breasts?  Or holding his dick?  Shannon, I’m not a hoochie in a spangly butterfly top and hot pants on my way to a club at 1 am—I’m a grown woman in my thirties on my way to work in the morning in a business suit, is what I’m trying to describe to you here. (NOTE:  It’s NOT okay for men to treat women like crap based on how they’re dressed—what I’m saying sometimes how I am dressed doesn’t freaking matter.)  But according to your quote above:

    Girls in my school dont get that kind of reputation from no where, they earn it,

    …you’re saying that I must have done something to justify this behavior towards me.  Can you understand why I find that so horrifying?

    black women are just more sensual and sexual (not in a bad way), better dancers, better lovers, and yeah, more wild in bed

    You’ve heard wrong.  You’ve heard utter bullshit, really. Black people are PEOPLE.  They are not magic.  And—this is the important bit—they are not all the same. Any sentence you begin with “Black people are” is going to be an automatic lie.  (They will teach you this trick for your SATs—any true/false question that contains the word “always” or “never” is FALSE.)  Some black women are crazy freaky lovers, and some are only comfortable in the missionary position, and some of them are virgins, and some of them are repressed prudes, because race doesn’t automatically tell you anything about a person other than how they look.

    I don’t care if it IS a wonderful thing to be sensual and wild and a great fuck if I, individually, am none of these things.  Or I may indeed be a great lay, but how dare anyone assume that just by looking at me?

    Read “Mandingo”?  All about our “wild animal heat and sensuality”?” (Caveat—- I haven’t—I wasn’t allowed to.  My dad—a very quiet, religious and dignified Jamaican man—got so angry reading that book he ripped it into shreds and threw it at a wall.  “Beloved” by Toni Morrison might be a good alternative.)

    You must consider that in this case, maybe the stuff you’re seeing on TV is based on the stereotype, and not that the stereotype comes from the televised crap.  This mindset predates your television—it predates your COUNTRY.

    I am being a bit blunt, really, but you’re saying these things because you DON’T know. You need to read and experience more, and absorb opinions and experiences that aren’t your own. Because you are parroting some very bad things

    I would LOVE it if an Asian woman to chime in here about why the pseudo-positive stereotype of being everybody’s “perfect woman” sucks ass too—because it took me (I think) way too long to realize that there wasn’t much to envy there.  Fetishization is fetishization.

  2. Mac says:

    (Good grief.  *reareading* Please nobody take my previous statement as some sort of anti-welfare or anti-single-mom rant, please.  It was not intended that way.)

  3. Mac says:

    It really, really doesn’t not extend

    Yipe!  That should be “does not.”  No more editing from me.  Bedtime.

  4. I think that you underestimate the power of what you are doing. Because as you blog, write, teach and make syllabi you are developing a cannon of popular romance literature. And if you include other voices, that have a different narratives, have a different POV and have protagonists of color than the whitewashing of romance and the exlusion of WOC will be a little less powerful.

    Trumystique, I really appreciate the value you place on my work. I suppose that because I think of TMT as a tiny little blog (in terms of visitors per day) compared to the big review sites, and because I don’t work directly with any students, I might tend to undervalue its importance.

    One other thing that I’ve been bearing in mind, after the various issues that arose with Amanda Marcotte, particularly the critiques there have been about her (and other white feminists) outright appropriating the work of WoC without acknowledging their intellectual debt to them, or, because of white privilege having a platform to discuss those same issues which the WoC don’t get, even though the issues are ones they live with on a daily basis, is that I don’t want my contribution to take attention away from the work being done on romance fiction by black academics.

    And there’s also a moral that all white readers might draw from the discussions surrounding Amanda Marcotte’s career choices, and that’s that while it’s good for non-black people to discuss and read AA romances, we also need to support the AA authors, because they as people are marginalised in the industry. The inequality of it being possible for a white author to write about black characters and have that book shelved as “romance”, but when a black author does exactly the same the book tends to end up being marketed as “AA romance” means that to create real equality, white readers would need to support not just books written by white authors which include black characters, but also books written by black authors about black characters.

    This, I think, is where I differ from Suze, who wrote that

    I’m differentiating between non-white characters and non-white authors.  I think the point of this thread was that we want to see more books with non-whites IN them, regardless of the pigmentation of who WROTE them.

    I’d also differentiate “between non-white characters and non-white authors” but I don’t think that mainstreaming fictional non-white people would be sufficient if real non-white people (i.e. the AA authors still stuck in the AA section) were still left out of the mainstream, their voices and stories unheard by the majority of romance readers.

  5. Um, I think I phrased that last bit less well than I could have. I wasn’t wanting to imply that Suze doesn’t care about the inequalities facing AA romance authors. What I was trying to say is that while in an ideal, racism-free world it wouldn’t matter what “the pigmentation of who WROTE” the books was, I don’t think we can end the inequalities in the romance industry with regards to how AA authors are treated without thinking about how certain authors’ pigmentation does affect them, their careers and their books.

  6. orangehands says:

    Oh wow, you are really young.

    Hey, hey, hey, don’t be ageist. 🙂

    Seriously though, I just want to throw out that just because a person is young does not mean they haven’t had a world (one of many) already pass through them. While young can mean less experience, less world knowledge, it does not always aquate, just like being a “grown-up” does not mean you are any less idiotic, fucked-up, racist, sexist, and/or etc. I’ve experienced some things in my short life that not everyone will during any of their years (and frankly, some of it is stuff I wouldn’t wish on anybody). Don’t deny the power of some youths.

    Other than that, I love you Mac. I know how you intended it too; just thought I’d throw that out there anyways. I’m annoying that way 😉

    (and other white feminists) outright appropriating the work of WoC without acknowledging their intellectual debt to them, or, because of white privilege having a platform to discuss those same issues which the WoC don’t get, even though the issues are ones they live with on a daily basis, is that I don’t want my contribution to take attention away from the work being done on romance fiction by black academics.

    ugh. I’m glad you brought this up. One more in a long line of things the (white) women’s movement has done. (Don’t get me wrong, I’m a feminist, I appreciate what they’ve done, but not willing to ignore the history of racism, homophobia, and classism in the women’s movement, like some people *cough classmates cough*). Anyways, I think that by acknowledging the work others have done in your pieces (IIRC you reference other people in your posts) and pointing out AA’s who have written pieces about this (badly worded example: for more info, look at ___’s excellent critique), you become another member questioning this, not taking their work.

  7. orangehands says:

    Mac: I realize that seems a weird thing to focus on in your post, age, but it is a little bit of a hot button with me. In MS and HS, but even now, I’d get the attitude of kid=stupid, which means nobody listened to what I had to say because why bother, obviously kid=stupid. [Not even close to all grown-ups in my life, but a large amount…actually, teachers really come to mind]

    Besides, saying “ditto” to a post gets old, doesn’t it? 🙂 

    General Q:
    Is it better for industry records to buy a book in a bookstore or does it work just as well if I got it online?

    reaction39: maybe I’ll stop reacting to age comments when I’m 39…oh hell, let’s hope it’s sooner

  8. Karen Scott says:

    One article cited featured a quote from an unnamed magazine publisher who stated that romance covers featuring Black characters in “Afrocentric styles” might make white readers uncomfortable. This same publisher said that covers without people would be preferable.

    (White reader Sarah says: “What a bunch of unmitigated poppycock.”)

    I’m not sure if that statement is poppycock though Sarah.  I think that a lot of white romance readers would be put off by a black couple on the cover. There are obviously exceptions, but I’m willing to bet that a high percentage of the white romance readers here have sub-consciously by-passed books that have featured black protagonists on the cover.

    I still believe that one of the reasons Dorothy Koomson’s My Best Friend’s Girl sold so well, was because of the clever/subtle cover (UK version that is, the US version sucks arseholes).  A lot of white readers confessed that they hadn’t realised that the heroine was black, until halfway through the book. The cover featured a blonde little girl, holding a black feminine hand.

    Richard and Judy (the UK version of Oprah’s Book Club) admitted that they hadn’t realised that the heroine was black either.

    I’m probably stirring a hornet’s nest with this question, but do you really think that black men are less likely to pursue black women because, like your cousin, they think black women are “loud and brawling?”

    This is a myth that’s been perpetuated over the years, and honestly, I’m not sure where it comes from.  When a black woman refuses to be treated like crap, she’s aggressive and argumentative. It really pisses me off that people actually believe that black women are more aggressive than white women. Lorena Bobbitt anybody? 

    The fact is, black men who go after white women do so because they want to.  Some black men only find white women attractive, period, and it would be nice if they just acknowledged that, rather than making up bullshit excuses.

  9. Trumystique says:

    I remember having this long rant about romance on one of my listservs in the mid90s. I was bemoaning why all romances seemed to be the same ( long wanged alpha heroes, punishing kisses, rosy nippled heroines why not brown nippled ones etc etc) and uncritically pound out the idea that the end all and be all of the HEA was little kiddies and a white picket fence. Someone responded to my rant by saying if I wanted to criticize romance then maybe I shouldnt be a romance reader. Clearly this was before Teach Me Tonight or the SBTBs. I think that wherever there is a critical analysis of the narratives of Romance that is a good thing.

    However, I am heartsick by the silence around this issue. Granted its been talked about for many years without a lot of action. Maybe its all invisible action and what we see is the tip of the iceberg. I hope so but I dont think so. I have been really sick about this Marcotte issue ( just this horrible nauseau in my stomach—Hilary’s comments last week just sent me over the top) and I have felt this at many times. Its like someone you think is your friend and is working with you reveals she’s a backstabber and doesnt care about you—she’s working for herself. Its a profound sense of betrayal. Compound that with the fact that you are invisible in everyday life from the internet, on the bus, at work and in popular media. And I am invisible for so many reasons. People dont see me they see the stereotype. I am invisible because when people finally do see me they are like “Oh well I dont see color and you arent like other X people”.

    That is what I am talking about- I need allies. I need someone who is willing to work with me and not pay lip service to working with me. Dont pat me on the head and say that sucks and keep doing what you are doing. If I tell you that this genre makes me invisible then please listen to what I am saying.

    The inequality of it being possible for a white author to write about black characters and have that book shelved as “romance”, but when a black author does exactly the same the book tends to end up being marketed as “AA romance” means that to create real equality, white readers would need to support not just books written by white authors which include black characters, but also books written by black authors about black characters.

    So I hear that you get what I am saying. And you are willing to be an ally. But frankly I think there needs to be a change in terminology. Romance is not Romance. For the most part I dont see myself or anyone like me in most of the romance novels on the shelves. There is nothing that is universal about Romance if it continues to silence, marginalize whole groups of people and their intimate relationships. If LaNora is a Romance author and Beverly Jenkins is a Black Romance author- there is a BIG FAT PROBLEM. Clearly is says that Jenkins is writing something different from Romance.

    So we need to use different words and call it what it is. LaNora writes White Romance and so does Crusie, SEP, Laura Kinsale and most of the rest of those published in NY houses. And all the taglines on most blogs should change too. So the tagline for the SBs should change
    “all of the white romance and none of the bullshit”.

    But I dont think anyone is going to like that proposition. So another suggestion would be to come up with an acronym to replace AA Romance. Because the term AA romance reinforces the idea that there is something essentially different about the love stories of black people. So maybe to acknowledge that it should be RwPOC. So that would be Romances with People of Color. But again kinda lets the whitewashing of Romance off the hook. And of course my acronym doesnt speak to the fact that if romances are written by Asian women or Latina women they are shelved in the White Romance section. Hmm actually doesnt that reproduce what happens in this country when immigrants enter the US and they have been asked “Do you want to be with us or you want to be Negroes/colored/black folk?” We all know the answer to that question…

    Anyway, enough of my rambling. I just want to thank you Laura, Suze and others who are thinking,  doing and acting as allies.

  10. So another suggestion would be to come up with an acronym to replace AA Romance. Because the term AA romance reinforces the idea that there is something essentially different about the love stories of black people.

    I agree the term is very problematic. I think that all the sub-genres within romance should be defined with relation to the type of plot elements or themes they contain (e.g. erotic, inspirational, suspense) and/or the time/place setting (historical, contemporary, futuristic, paranormal). AA romance, I/R romance and GLBT romance are defined with reference to something about the protagonists, and the implication is that the default setting for the genre is not-AA, not I/R, and not-GLBT. I don’t think that’s right, because, as you say, the effect is to “marginalize whole groups of people and their intimate relationships.”

    However, until the marginalised groups are no longer marginalised, I’ll use the terms on the grounds that they’re a constant reminder of the inequality that exists within the genre, and of the change that needs to happen before equality can be achieved. That said, I only plan to use the terms when they’re relevant (e.g. in the context of the marketing, book segregation etc).

    If I’m looking at a particular theme/element of the novel e.g. whether it’s a metafiction, or the author’s use of metaphors, then I’ll not describe the book as an “AA romance” because I’m dealing with it as a text which I’m analysing, not as a representative of “AA romances.” In those cases, avoiding the AA label makes a statement that I consider that romances with AA characters in them should not be separated out from romances featuring characters of any other race/ethnic group. Similarly if I were to review any AA romance (not that I will, because I don’t think I’d be much good at it. I tend to end up analysing the novel instead!) I wouldn’t label it as an “AA romance”. I would describe it as a contemporary, or historical or paranormal etc romance.

    I may slip up on occasion, and I know it’s not the ideal solution, but that’s my current thinking on how to deal with the “AA romance” label.

  11. Mac says:

    Hey orangehands… After a good night’s sleep, I am much calmer now.  For the moment. 😀

    Seriously though, I just want to throw out that just because a person is young does not mean they haven’t had a world (one of many) already pass through them. While young can mean less experience, less world knowledge, it does not always aquate, just like being a “grown-up” does not mean you are any less idiotic, fucked-up, racist, sexist, and/or etc. I’ve experienced some things in my short life that not everyone will during any of their years (and frankly, some of it is stuff I wouldn’t wish on anybody). Don’t deny the power of some youths.

    I DO see where you’re coming from, I swear I do.  I don’t mean to imply that there’s anything necessarily deficient about young people as a group. But I’m instinctively more willing to try to understand the state of “having a lot to learn” from a sophomore in high school than I am from a forty-year-old.
    It’s just a question of time.  It is certainly possible to have a very mature and knowledgeable kid, but in general people’s brains don’t fully physically mature (ability to think ahead, internalizing the concept of future consequences) until they’re about twenty-five.  They might have had a world pass through them at that age, but it’s far more likely (and excusable/understandable) if they have not.

    So while I would never discount/dismiss the power of those advanced youths, I’ll just be more inclined to use my kid gloves on an individual youth who seems to need a careful boost, and would benefit more from my wording myself carefully than from a full on verbal lashing. Whereas, say, a Cassie Edwards would get NO quarter from me. It’s just a matter of approach—that’s all I was trying to say. 🙂  I agree with your point!

    Other than that, I love you Mac. I know how you intended it too; just thought I’d throw that out there anyways. I’m annoying that way 😉

    (Aw, I’m loved!  *basks*)

    You’re a Libra, aren’t you.  Aren’t you!  Confess! 

    *is a Libra*  😀 😀

  12. Suze says:

    Is it better for industry records to buy a book in a bookstore or does it work just as well if I got it online?

    According to author Holly Lisle, it’s better for the author to buy from a bookstore.  If this link works, it’ll take you to the article she wrote explaining why:

    http://hollylisle.com/writingdiary2/index.php/2006/12/01/selling-to-the-net-or/

    Laura and Trumystique, do I need to redefine my criteria?  Am I working toward desegregation of romances featuring non-white characters, or am I working toward non-white authors being able to write, unrestricted by publishers’ expectations, romances featuring human beings (or aliens, I’m good with those too) regardless of colour?

    Looking at my own question, I can see the obvious answer is the latter.  Okay, that will be more of challenge in that, much of the time, the author of a book is only a name, but still do-able.

    This discussion has been really educational for me, my thanks to everyone who has taken the time and effort to articulate your thoughts and feelings clearly and rationally.

  13. orangehands says:

    mac: no worries. I really do see where you’re coming from too. And no, I’m an Aries. ah, but for the grace of a couple of months… 🙂

    Suze: thanks for the link (it worked).

    Thanks everyone for the discussion

  14. SB Sarah says:

    I agree there needs to be an adjustment of terminology, though right now I can’t press the brain cells into action, as they’re sleeping in the sweet balm of Imitrex.

    As I said on Karen’s site,  I do think its poppycock that cover art featuring Black characters will turn off white buyers. Speaking for myself as a reader,  the cover art doesn’t do it for me. It’s always the blurb and, since I shop mostly online, the excerpt. The cover art rarely influences my buying decisions. I don’t entirely agree that art featuring Black characters would be the turn off for white buyers, because I think that the decision to bypass that which they consider Black romance has already been made before the art is seen by the buyer who skips it. That is, I agree, depressing, as is the uphill battle that faces any change in how romance by Black authors or romance featuring Black protagonists is shelved.

    That said, and I said about the same thing on Karen’s site, there is a sense in blogland that we’re bigger than we really are in terms of influence. Sure, we can accomplish some amazing things, but on the whole I don’t think our effect on industry decisions is all that weighty. The Barnes & Noble up the road from me isn’t going to reshelve a ton of books just because people on the internet said it should be done.

    But after the projects that have me pinned let go of my arms and legs, I do plan to pay more attention and review more romance that features Black protagonists or is written by Black authors. I meant to do so earlier this year, as I said, but the Category glom took longer than I thought it would, as they were more addictive than I thought they would be (dammit). Plus that book (The Whole Fucking Genre What?!) (New working title – like it?) thing. Damn I hate excuses.

    And of course I am fully cognizant in squidgy fashion that saying I intend to do x y or z is pretty damn lamecakes, and actions speak louder, etc., but as of right now, declarations are what I got on me. That and some majestic hallucinations from painkillers – look! a carousel in my living room! rad!

  15. I can see the obvious answer is the latter.  Okay, that will be more of challenge in that, much of the time, the author of a book is only a name, but still do-able.

    It’s usually not too hard, because the publishing segregation tends to mean that black romance authors end up published in lines/by publishers specialising in AA books. It might be a bit different with ebooks (I don’t know much about them).

    So if you pick up a book from an “AA romance” line, e.g. most of Harlequin’s Kimani lines (one’s YA AA fiction. That looks a bit weird with so many capital letters!), or a romance from an AA imprint, e.g. Kensington’s Dafina imprint (which includes AA romance as well as other novels in other genres) or from one of the publishers which specialises in AA and I/R romance (e.g. Genesis Press and Parker Publishing), then it’s most likely you’ll be reading a book written by an AA author.

    If you like reading short reviews before you buy, Romance in Color would be a good place to start. And as mentioned by Seressia Glass (in the other recent thread on I/R romances, I think) there’s the Interracial/Multicultural Romance Readers Yahoo Group.

    There are a few black authors who’re published by publishers/in lines not marketed as AA: Beverly Jenkins, for example, has had novels published as “Avon Historical Romance”s (I’m not sure about her romantic suspense novels, because I don’t tend to read much romantic suspense), and Brenda Jackson‘s been published in lots of different places, including Harlequin’s Silhouette Desire line.

    My point wasn’t that it would be a dreadful thing if you happened to find and read a romance written by a non-black author about black characters. It’s more that a white author like Suz Brockmann doesn’t need support in “breaking out” and becoming a big name in the romance community as a whole, whereas an AA author, who’s got little chance of reaching a wider audience of readers while she’s writing books that will end up in the “AA section” of bookshops and libraries, would benefit more from a bit of a boost in terms of sales/discussions about her books on sites/blogs which will reach non-AA readers who might not otherwise have heard of her.

    There may be some black authors writing only about white characters, but going on what I’ve read online, part of the whole problem facing AA romance authors is that they tend to end up, on the basis of their skin-colour, being expected to write for AA lines, about AA characters (or I/R).

  16. kt says:

    Something I’ve been very curious about…

    The annual AAR and the (Oklahoma) RWA reader polls don’t seem to include African American romance as a category for nominations. At first glance, it seems like its the the only major sub-genre to be missing. Does anyone know the reasoning behind this? I’d love to learn more.

  17. Ebony says:

    The only difference between mainstream romance novels and Black Romance novels is the “color” of the characters skin.  Believe it or not there are many successful Black people who own their own businesses, own homes, come from two parent households, go to college, etc. 

    Newsflash!!! Single black women want the same thing as single white women.  We want the husband, the house, the white picket fence and 2.5 kids…so whoever told you otherwise is lying.

    As far as good men, a good man is hard to find no matter what color of his skin, so please stop the stereotyping.

  18. Monica says:

    Its been years that this issue has been raised. If you look at the sidebar of links you see many SB regulars who have blogs and could do something with their voices, wallets or what have you and dont. So we need to use different words and call it what it is. LaNora writes White Romance and so does Crusie, SEP, Laura Kinsale and most of the rest of those published in NY houses. And all the taglines on most blogs should change too. So the tagline for the SBs should change
    “all of the white romance and none of the bullshit”.

    But I dont think anyone is going to like that proposition.—Trumystique

    But talk about a move that would raise awareness!  It would be tongue in cheek snark, sure, but it is more practical than thinking of another name for an entirely race-defined romance sub-genre.  Call it what it is!

    Folks always want to know what they can do.  Here are a few fresh ideas of mine that would quickly change the face of romance to be more inclusive of blacks.  Take what you like 😉

    What readers can do

    Romance readers can urge that romance community, blogs and sites who treat romance by black authors differently than they treat other romances change their title and taglines to be more reflective of what they cover.  But instead of white romance, it should be Not Black Romance or Anything but Negro Romance-on the whole they seem to have no problems accepting Asian and Latina writers as romance authors.  What if romance was truly honest about what it is, even as a snarkilicious promo for a few days! 

    People would be shocked, but best, they’d be enlightened and made aware.  And maybe those Everything But Black Romance sites could start treating a few black romance authors the same as they treat white authors.  It could be a start…Review a few black authors, romance review sites and blogs!  Pick a prolific, decent black romance author or two and actually read and review their upcoming books.  Treat ‘em as if they were white girls!  It’s not so hard. 

    What could be done by authors

    These nonblack authors who are happily writing or considering writing major black characters should do so—then demand to be put in the same racial niche black authors would go into—have their book labeled black romance and be as limited in marketing demographics and distribution as a black author.  This could enlighten and make publishing aware in a big way.  What about the black-only lines?  Hey, that’s racial discrimination!  Call ‘em on it.  Come and march beside black authors in the heated humidity, not ride in the special air-conditioned publishing bus that excludes blacks.  What could have changed if folks had to go into the black section to read about Alyssa and Sam?  [chortle!]

    p.s.  Penquin settled with Millenia Black and she says she’s satisfied.  Yay!

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