Smart Bitches, Trashy Books

Okay, I’ll go first with a confession of my own. LKH? Love her books. Love reading the hot sexx0ring that goes on. Yeah, the stories haven’t been there for the last few books, but I still enjoy reading the really hot stuff that goes on.

Same with Emma Holly. I love her books somethin’ awful. So few sex scenes I read in books really turn me on (and that’s how I judge my own sex scenes… they are good if they turn me on. After all, if I can’t turn myself on, how can I do it for anyone else?) that when I find an author who can do that for me, well, I’ll be reading really faithfully.

Nora Roberts does it for me, too. Eve and Roarke? Yes’m, I’m right there!

Oh, I’ve just lost all respect for you! I mean, how can I possibly lend credence to the opinions of someone who likes what you like? It’s just defies logic.

However, you have made me feel lots better about myself in the process. I was reeling from that letter to the editor in the RWR calling me a whore for writing erotic romance, but you’ve salved my wounds with your Spamtastic auto-expose.

I can feel elitist and superior again. Thank you!

~ Alessia

P.S. Oh, and I’m a sucker for campy Piers Anthony Xanth books. *wink*

Pam Stephenson’s biography of Billy Conolly. The writing is clunky, but… I mean, BILLY CONOLLY… how can I not like this book?

I never thought you were harassing Ms Certain Author, merely stating your own opinion about her book. Thing is, when you’re seen to be “in a position of authority”, people often take stuff you do or say a lot more seriously. Rightly so? Not sure. Of course, when lots of people listen to you, what you say has a little more weight than usually. On the other hand: it’s tiresome when you can’t state a simple opinion without people thinking you’re the Pope. (“I’m saying this strictly ex cathedra…”) ...There’s a fine line between those two factors, and I wish I knew where to draw it.

The advantages of age is that it is easier to say, “You think I’m an idiot for liking this?  Fuck you.”  So admittedly I had to dig deep to find something even I thought cringeworthy.

Cream horns—those pastry-that-tastes-like-cardboard things stuffed full of carbtastic powdered sugar and some chemicals whipped into oozy, gooey sweet stuff. (I’m not talking about the upscale ones, but the ones found in Kroger.) When I do indulge I always buy a bunch of other—healthy—stuff so it doesn’t look so bad.

Spam—you like spam?  Ick.

Try saying anything that might be construed as remotely critical of anything Harry Potter.  You’ll be excoriated, and all your books will be said to be trash.  I once mentioned online that she gets away with an awful lot of adverbial tags, and I barely escaped with my spacebar intact.

I don’t know why people get so upset when opinionated bitches like me mention their likes/dislikes and go through and critique something.  It isn’t as if we slapped the author in public and her crowd must exact revenge.  Um, maybe it is.

I think I was trained to do this type of analysis of everything via years and YEARS of English lit classes and being in the Green Group (*the SMART READERS*) every year . . . my teachers at the One-Room Schoolhouse Extraordinaire used to reward those of us who brought up points that showed no book is perfect, not even one by Dickens or Austen or Hemingway.  (“ONLY ONE M IN HEMINGWAY, PEOPLE!” Sister Mary Elephant screams in the background.)  It’s not about hating the author!  It’s about making a scientific observation and bringing it forth for discussion!  Instead, there is often much whining, whinging, and wringing of hands.  No need!  Most people who follow my LiveJournal know this by now, though.

My guilty pleasures?  Okay, I imprinted on the “Donna Parker” mystery series as a kid.  I tried to go back and re-read them (after eBaying them up . . . Mama threw mine away, the sneak, when I was off at Revival Tent Camp one summer), and they are ABYSMAL in terms of prose and mechanics.  I can still see in my mind’s eye the movie that the meta-novel (the entire series) made for me, though, from Donna getting her raincoat switched with Bruce’s on the bus to Donna finding the burned clock-radio at Camp Arawak.  Or was that Cherrydale?  No matter.  It’s there, and it inspired me to want to write.  Same with the Bobbsey Twins . . . they’re really awful seen from my current perspective, but they really engaged me back then.

I also like BIMBOS OF THE DEATH SUN by Sharyn McCrumb (many in SF/F fandom hate that book) and THE BOYFRIEND SCHOOL by Sarah Bird (yeah, it has flaws, but I still love it.)  But I rank Gatsby right up there with ‘em, so that makes it legal in the eyes of SuperProf.

I even read “Garfield” strips sometimes.  (*ducking and running*)

Any Harlequin Presents by the fabulous Violet Winspear is my guilty pleasure.

Tamora Pierce…. I KNOW I KNOW she’s damn Mary Sue.  But but but but but red hair!  Violet eyes!  Getting her own magic pony!  *whimpers in girlish delight*

Same with the fabulous “Dragon Singer” by Anne McCaffry.  Hell that woman could be “gay by tent peg” for all I care.  I do so love her dragons and damn the political correctness!”

I always wondered why the leap happens.  It kind of bothers me because people DO have differing tastes and it doesn’t make you an idiot or a horrid person not to like someone.  But inevitably someone brings that up.

I listen to Fergie. 

Voluntarily.

That’s my confession, but you dont have to listen to me.  Know why?  Because I like Darwin.  Know who else liked Darwin?  Hitler.  Ergo, by rabid defensive fangirl standards, I’m a terrible, terrible person.  Be that as it may, here’s my take:

As far as I’m concerned this is SB Sara and Candy’s blog and therefore they can say whatever the hell they want to say.  Anyone who disagrees is welcome to start their own blog—the internet is great that way, isn’t it?  Just because the Bitchery has somewhat of an influence in fans of the genre doesn’t mean they have some sort of responsibility to be nice.  No matter how big their audience gets, this is still their site and they are dealing book reviews in a manner as advertised.  They warn from the get-go that they tough reviewers, so maybe people should stop being so suprised when the guy who says “I’m going to punch you in the face” actually does it.  The title of this page most certainly isn’t “Polite Women who have only good things to say about Romance Novels, all of Which are Written Well” .  Hell, if I wanted to listen to a blathering literature commercial, I’d read the NYTimes Book Review.

The Smartbitches have always been completely upfront about what they think about their reading material.  In fact, if they were more forgiving, I’d have lost interest, because as a relatively new romance reader I’m confronted with a large amount of material to dig through, and I want to know my recomendations are coming from a source that’s being brutally honest with me.  I get just as excited about the good reviews as about the bad reviews, I’m not here just for the drama.  I love reading, and I love hearing from other people who love reading.  Any book reviewer who writes as though they’ve never read a bad book in their lives is like a partner who constantly fakes orgasms: you start to suspect that they’ve never actually had a real one. However, people who know what they hate, also know what they love, and what I love is hearing from people who are passionate about what they’re reading, and who articulate it in more words than “ZOMG HARRY POTTER RULEZ!1!”  (He does rule, by the way…as does Fergie).

I’ve always found SB Sarah and Candy to be very up front about their opinons, and while I’ve disagreed with some of their reviews (The Leopard Prince was such a C+ compared to the A of The Raven Prince in my book) I’ve never gone as far as to feel betrayed or taken it personaly if they expressed themselves in a manner I would not have.

And sheesh, to go as far as to feel like they’re attacking your friends because of how nice your friends are?  I don’t even get the connection with that.  The sweetest girl I know doesnt believe in global warming, but I’m not accusing Al Gore of attacking her.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go sing ‘Glamorous’ into my hairbrush.
Again.

I watched The Adventures of Lois and Clark religiously, so I could drool all over Dean Cain. I loved the theme song for Star Trek: Enterprise (though I couldn’t stand the show.) I like some of Britney Spears’ early music.

And natto isn’t really that bad, if it’s properly prepared.

J.R. Ward.  I know those books are racially-appropriating, misogynistic, ridiculous messes, but lord help me, they’re crack and I love them.

Roses.  Put a red rose decoration on the tackiest piece of kitsch and I’ll love it and want to own it.

M/M twincest is actually kinda hot. Chris Owen’s Gemini was smoking.

I’m not confessing to my Guilty Sticky Pleasures, because a lot of them are from my fanfic days and I’m not giving names. But there’s at least one review out there with my style quirks all over it, that can be summarised as “It’s badly written overblown nonsense, and lots of people hate it for good reason. Even a lot of the people who like it think it’s appalling, the literary equivalent of junk food. And I’ll chop your hands off if you touch my copy. Sometimes I *want* comfort food.”

*crawls out of the shadows and into the comment box*

Frankly, this blog is all about creating a shelter for a group of people whose taste level is, in society’s eye, not all that it ‘ought’ to be.  If anyone understands the dangers inherent in correlating literary (or musical or visual or whatever) taste to a value system, it’s us.

And, as someone who is constantly called a Marxist by her professors, I have to agree with the argument that this is less about art than it is about class.  Take, for example, my town.  Home to a rather well-respected university, there is not a trashy *ahem* - mass market - romance in sight.  Not in the school book store.  Not in any of the three bookstores on our main street.  It is a barren wasteland full of academic books and chicklit that wishes it could be this trashy.  If, however, I jump on the bus (don’t even get me started on the bus and classism) and head to the local WalMart, I can have my selection of such books.  Not to mention the fact that in an ‘upscale’ book chain—think a Barnes and Noble—employees never seem to know or care about trashy romances and the people who buy them.  I can go to my local B&N, buy a $15 Noam Chomsky book and, suddenly, I’m an intellectual goddess come to life.  If I buy $200 worth of mass markets, however, I can never get any sort of real help and usually end up feeling like they expect me to apologize for the whole interaction.

Wake up, people!  Welcome to the post-feminist world!  I can read these books because I fucking want to and you just have to deal with that!

*inhale. exhale. end rant.*

My own weaknesses?  Well, really good sex makes up for a whole lot in my book.  And Nicola Cornick—not always the best writing…or plots…but she’s BRITISH, people.

And bastard children.  I have a real weakness for them.  Give me a hero and his ‘ward’ and I’ll melt into a little pool of Meg-goo. *sigh*

Oh, and Fergie is totally underrated.

Now off to write the 15 pages I have to turn in 9.5 hours from now.

People get so damn offended by your (or my) opion, and they seem to forget, that is just what it is, an opion…everyone has one, you don’t have to agree, as a matter of fact, try to make me see how you arrived to your opinion, it may open me up to something I didn’t see before, I’m always open…okay usually

on that note I LOVE the Harlequin Presents line…yes it can be aboulutley awful, women I want to smack the crap out of and men I wouldn’t give the time of day, but I still love them!

I own Kindergarten Cop on DVD. And I watch it. Repeatedly.

And I am a sucker for any kind of rescue fantasy/bodyguard romance. Doesn’t matter how bad it is, if the heroine is in some sort of danger and is in need of burly protection, I’m all over it.

Don’t even get me started on my music tastes. If a song has been used in an “Alias” fan video on You Tube, it’s probably in my iTunes library.

I totally heart Virginia Henley booke. Her prose is a most violent shade of purple, and in one book a mothertruckin’ LYNX nearly goes down on the heroine. AND I DO NOT CARE! Her books are so very much fun!
Oh, and my all time fave romanace novel is Morning Song by Karen Robards, a book I know you SBs also enjoy, so ha! That’s right- stepdad/daugher sex00ring and I LOVE IT! Oh, sweet freedom!

Flo, I have to point out that Tamora Pierce’s Alana series is rather Mary Sue, but her later books get better.  In fact, I lived on them through middle school, and still read the new ones when they come out.  Just wanted to make that distinction.

My guilty pleasure?  Christine Feehan.  Yeah, I even occasionally buy them (though not the hardcover) still.  I cringe at some of the dynamics, and the world-building… yet something draws me back.  But strong males protecting/loving their feminine counterparts?  MMMMM.

Romances with Male Angels (or the universe equivalent in the story). (Not females so much, must be the male)  There’s something that really hits my buttons like wings.  Especially feathered wings.  I can excuse a lot of badness to get my angel fix.

And LKH.  And I will also admit to buying the comic books and drooling over the illustrations.  ‘Cause it’s bad, but it’s soooo good.

My guilty pleasure?  I am sooo into grabbing one of the older (1980s) romance novels.  You know, the ones with the classic bodice ripper covers!  I too love that older hero and the young virginal heroine.  And the punishing kiss?  Love it!  And love it even better when he throws her over his shoulder (with her kicking and screaming the whole time) and carts her off and throws her on the bed!  Absolutely love it!

Actually, having “good taste” goes the other way, too. Here are some things I’m supposed to like, but don’t.

Anything by Stanley Kubric. My movie channels are having a marathon. Those few movies I’ve ventured to try - because I don’t like horror or war movies - bore me to homicide.

Opera. Yes, I’ve been exposed to it. A lot. Still hate it.

Shakespeare. I know, I know. But I don’t like poetry, either. A few lines of imagery here and there are wonderful, but having reams of poetry masquarading as dialogue drives me nuts.

I love Martha Stewart. I want to be her. I know people make fun of her and her glue gun. I know the stuff she makes is impractical and over the top but I love her anyway. I also love “She’s Crafty” on HGTV even though my hubby thinks she’s borderline retarded.

I think it’s your blog. Write what you want.

Stephanie Laurens.
Page after page.
Shouldn’t
Wouldn’t.
Couldn’t.
Inexorable inabilty to deny
That this sex scene
Goes on six pages—-
Perhaps eight—-
And that’s only the kiss.
Scorching.
Burning.
Give me those sinful Cynsters
And every other male,
No matter how tenuously related to them—-
the distant cousin, the boot boy grown.
I am putty in her hands.

I can’t believe I’m the first to say it. Add some eggs to that Spam and up the nutritional content . . .

Georgette Heyer, from before I grew boobs. (Maybe helped me grow boobs!) And Mary Stewart. I still read This Rough Magic and get gooseflesh when she’s in the water saving the dolphin.

Two words:

Bertrice. Small.

LOVE it. It’s awful prose and clunky porn, but I. Love. It.

I have them all, and I’m backed up in my opinion by my bunny who thinks the covers are quite tasty - she didn’t touch any of my other books on the shelf, but she pulled down a bunch of the Bertrices.

So the rabbit has spoken!

Moira said “I loved the theme song for Star Trek: Enterprise (though I couldn’t stand the show.)”

I feel exactly the opposite. But I think we can agree that they didn’t belong together!

I <3 all of you. Also fried spam sandwiches, early LKH, and Britney Spears. Also bad movies, like Python (wth Robert Englund!) and Killer Clowns from Outer Space.

Don’t get me started in Christine Feehan’s Drake sisters. Oh! The sisterly bonding, the superpowers, the protective men! I’m such a sucker for that. If they were British, I might try to marry them myself.

I also a huge fan of any romances involving a rake and a spirited virgin. Because, you know, I’m a spirited virgin. Bwhaha.

(And I’m right there with you, Moira, not liking Kubrick.)

I like Barry Manilow.

Make of it what you will

Geeze, if I confess are y’all going to get judgy on my ass? Because really, I have some pretty deficient taste.

1. J.R. Ward’s books.  The whole premise and the way it’s set up just squicks me out.  But I Can. Not. Stop.  Those books are like a fucking drug, dude.

2. Kraft Mac&Cheese with a whole extra lot of salt.  Mmmm.

3. Candy, I’m glad you confessed to loving Temptation Island because, damn.  That show was so trashy and just plain bad but could I stop watching?  Hells no. (I still cringe at the whole nerdy Dave and bitchy Charla thing.  Cannot believe I even *remember* that.)

4. Two romance novels I should hate because the gender politics just so so so rub me the wrong way?  Whitney, My Love and also Shanna.  But do I hate them?  No.  I love them.

5. I know I’m supposed to be all love all the time for microbrew beers and Czech imports and etc.  I still always choose Miller Lite (and used to drink Rainier fatboys by the truckload).

On the flip side, things I should love that would show my fine taste and cultcha, but lo, I do not:

1. The Lovely Bones.  My god but that book depressed the hell out of me, bored me, and made me roll my eyes more than any romance I’ve ever read.

2. Atonement.  Jesus Christ.  The first half was gripping and wonderful and lovely.  The second half was as flat and soggy as a first pancake.

3. Crash.  I found that movie to be utterly patronizing. 

4. Diamonds.  Sure, they’re pretty enough, but I far prefer gemstones.

Wow.  That ain’t even the tip of the iceberg, sadly.

Dak

Nora, you are not alone.  Right now I’m sitting at my desk gazing at my treasured picture of Barry Manilow in the frilliest of frilly shirts….

Oh, Moira!  I am so with you on this one.  Yes, yes, Kubric is supposed to be a genius.  But still?  Yawn.

Dak, I’m totally with you on the Kraft—and now I’ve got a killer craving for some.  I know I should prefer my Grandma’s gooey cheesy authentic stuff, but really?  I’ll take the Kraft over it any day.

Ummm, I own EVERY. SINGLE. Backstreet Boys album. And still listen to them. And I’m 36, they were in no way, shape or form part of my formative years. I just *love* them.

Also, there’s pretty much nothing I love better than a secret baby plot. I love the hell out of it.

I’ll take your Kraft Dinner and up it one, I still put ketchup on it. mmmmmmm

Haha—I ketchup my eggs (which, in the Northeast, get you some really fun looks) but never my precious Kraft

Make-over scenes. I know beauty is on the inside, but man, do I love a make-over scene, both in books and movies. Pretty clothes! Contact lenses! A new hair-cut! All of a sudden, the hunky hunk looks up, arrested at the sight of this beautiful, heretofore unnoticed creature standing before him. Swoon!

Also, I love the Monkees. I don’t care if they were the original boy band. Their greatest hits album gets plenty of play in my house.

Hello, my name is Kimberly and I listen to Britney Spears.  On purpose.

My love for Demolition Man (three seashells=comedy gold) knows no bounds. 

I watch A Smoky Mountain Christmas every single time it comes on, even if that means twice in one day.  I want to be Dolly Parton when I grow up.

And I love the cardboard cakes from the grocery store.  Especially the frosting.

Liverwurst. LOVE.IT. Oh, and Anchovies.
(don’t all gag at once)

Guilty books? J.R.Ward’s come to mind. Christine Feehan’s as well.

TV? Any show about Rock bands. I’m a “Rocker Mom” here, and damn proud of it!

Books I couldn’t do- Mark Twain. Just couldn’t stand his “voice” or whatever. Same for Steinbeck. Just couldn’t get through them.

Coffee ( ala Starbucks?) never will see a dime from me. Give me a Diet Coke or whatever.

That’s just for starters

I have a friend with whom I trade books.  Recently I discovered she’s come to the conclusion that if I pick a book apart, or even pick at one or two bits of it, it means I didn’t like the book at all.  I’ve tried explaining to her that taking it apart and seeing how it works is part of the fun for me but she’s not getting it.

Things I love and of which I am slightly ashamed:
Cheese Wiz on club crackers
One Fergie song - Clumsy.  My husband plays the other ones just to torture me.  I haven’t even admitted to him I like that song.
Certain categories on Literotica.com

Lately I feel like people are trying to make me ashamed to like Robert Heinlein. Oh the misogyny!  Oh the proselytizing!  Oh the fascism! 

Don’t care.  Love him.  Love him anyways and everyone running around complaining about him can stick it up their bums.

I have them all, and I’m backed up in my opinion by my bunny

Does it make me low class if I admit that t first I thought you meant your battery operated bunny?

The Hardy Boys series.  *embraces the shame*  I read ‘em all.  I re-read ‘em all. 

I love the taste of that cherry sore throat spray, and have been known to fake a sore throat just to have some.

“Most Amazing Videos” on Spike TV.  That shit is just wrong, people.  That episode where the zoo-keeper is cleaning the elephant’s back feet and the elephant sits down and the zoo-keeper’s head goes up the elephant’s butt?  WHY THE HELL WOULD ANYONE WANT TO SEE THAT?  Yet I laughed myself sick.

The Godzilla movie remake in NYC with Matthew Broderick?  Love it.  Own it.  Watch it often.  Same with The Chronicles Of Riddick. 

Sardines in mustard sauce.  Shaddup, they’re good!  Okay, I know they’re bad, but… they’re a good source of calcium?

I could go on, but I’m afraid more horror might crash the website.

KCfla -
I used to be totally with you on the whole soda over coffee thing.  Then I moved to Italy, had real, honest to god coffee and got hooked. 
Of course now I can’t get the good stuff anymore and I’m hooked on crap.  (Though I’ve been doing better lately.)

Oh, and I love the movie Judge Dredd.

Time to hide under a rock until the shame goes away.

Ah, this is so cathartic, isn’t it?
First - YES! Damn, I’m glad someone else said this too! I recently just went off on my website with quite a rant about the whole concept of: “I’m an opinionated bitch - I’m going to say how I feel about well…pretty much everything. If I think your taste in something (books, movies, food, music, men - whatever) sucketh - it doesn’t mean I think the same of you!” Why do so many people make that mental jump and get offended? I have a close friend who LOVES Clay Aiken - she travels the country to see his concerts. I laugh at her, I tease her, I think she’s freakin’ weird! But I love her all the same.

As for me?
I adore romance novels with men in a kilt. Plot, characters, language - all become more acceptable if in Scotland. That goes double if the heroine is a redhead, because I’m a vain bitch too.

Remember that tv series from the late 80’s with Josh Brolin and Stephen Baldwin among others? Young Riders. I bought that DVD set and still get all junior high girly about it.

North & South the mini-series. That was like porn to me as a kid, and I still love it.

I will see your Barry Manilow and raise you Copacabana: The Movie.  Oh, yes.

But Meg, doesn’t everyone put ketchup on their scrambled eggs?

Oh, and I forgot to mention MXC.  Sinkers and Floaters gets me every time.  “Stay dry good, get wet bad!”

Lorelei—I’m so with you on the Heinlein. He was such an integral part of my adolescence. I used to go to sleep at night praying to wake up in one of his worlds. I never saw the misogyny others rant about.

My brother-in-law once, as a joke, gave me an old poster of Barry Manilow he’d found when cleaning out an elderly box of his. I LOVE Barry, too. Perhaps if there’s enough of us, we should form a support group. Or meet at a bar somewhere, get drunk and sing all the Barry songs we know by heart. Another confession: I had a Barry Manilow song sung at my wedding: “Keep Each Other Warm.” Making note to go dig out that CD and listen to it incessantly…

Other guilty pleasures? Well, in 5th grade, I will admit that I publically confessed to my entire class that I loved Shaun Cassidy. Yeah, the shame over that STILL burns to this very day.

I love the movie *Independence Day* and will maintain until my dying breath that there is a romantic element in there… buried deep. You hafta know what you’re looking for.

Guilty book pleasure: Trixie Belden mysteries. Re-read one last year. It hurt, but I think the brain bleed has stopped.

Candy wrote

I may shit all over the book you love, but that doesn’t mean I want to deprive you of the right to read it and enjoy it. In fact, I want you to engage me about why you enjoyed it, and disagree with me about the points I’m making. I loves me some vigorous, informed argument.

This is the part of Candy’s post that really stuck out for me, and in my opinion, is probably the most telling thing about this issue. Before I say why, I want to explain something that was once said to me, which I found so extraordinary that I’ve never forgotten it.

About 8 years ago, when I was 19, I was working as guest liaison at a hotel in one of the Whitsunday Islands in Australia (if you’ve never been there: summer all year, lots and lots of drinking). My job was to keep guests entertained by playing sports, drinking with them, going on excursions, whatever. After I’d been working there a few weeks, my female boss took me aside and told me that I needed to be careful. She said that many women would find me intimidating, and that I needed to make an effort to speak to the woman in a couple as much as (if not more than) the man, because otherwise she would think I was making a play for him.

After realising that she had struck me dumb (to this day, the thought of me being intimidating boggles my mind), she explained that I was articulate, well educated and outgoing and while many people were comfortable with that, many others were threatened. While I enjoyed arguing and disagreeing with people, many people found that to be aggressive behaviour, which made them defensive and on edge.

Which brings me back to my point here. By no means am I saying that Candy and SB Sarah should be less argumentative or opinionated. I love the articulate way they, and everyone else, in this community express their opinions, realising that an exchange of opinions can get heated without involving name calling and bickering.

But I have to wonder if this attitude is intimidating to some? This willingness to front up and have a “vigorous, informed argument”? Could this part of what has provoked the response? And by response, I mean not specifically from the author Candy mentions, but in general? I’m not trying to say that either side is right or wrong (this is me, trying to be neutral!), I’m just trying to understand.

I own Air Supply’s Greatest Hits.  And I listen to it.  And like it.

Meg, I see we are not alone in our Kraft Blue Box love.  Long live the Blue Box!

Although never with ketchup.  Never.  But I have been known to cook plain macaroni, liberally butter, salt and pepper it, then squirt some ketchup on top.  Nasty, but also?  Tasty.

And Amy, sardines in mustard sauce are indeed very, very delicious!  As are sardines in tomato sauce, spicy sauce, olive oil & garlic & dill sauce.  I do have the sardine love.

Candy, I love you. Can I bear your babies?

(Now I’ll read what all intelligent stuff everyone else has said so far)

That episode where the zoo-keeper is cleaning the elephant’s back feet and the elephant sits down and the zoo-keeper’s head goes up the elephant’s butt?

Not just staking the plot bunny, but cutting off its paws, filling its mouth with salt, packing the coffin with garlic, burning it, and scattering the ashes over at least two oceans.

Hi, my name is Rosemary and I watch Rock of Love.

I also eat ramen noodles at least twice a week, even though I can afford better.

I own MULTIPLE Vin Diesel movies.

I would rather read Linda Howard than Nora Roberts. 

I hate vampires.

Whew!  I feel better.

What I think bugs me about the “Candy and Sarah are mean” stance is that I don’t think anyone would be saying that if you were male. I doubt anyone would even think it.

And I, lover and champion of stinky imported high-falutin cheeses, love EZ Cheese. The stuff in a can. Yes: love.

My best friend and I have a system of judging movies. There are good movies—movies that fit the objective standard of an excellent piece of cinematic art. And then there are awesome movies—movies that are probably bad, but OMG so cool. National Treasure? Awesome movie. (And then there are films—pronounced feeeeeeeeeeeeelms—like Stanley Kubrik et al. I have very little to do with films.)

I have seen Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves 34 times. I love it. LOOOOOVE it. Can recite significant chunks of it. Periodically look at angry people and mutter, “Something vexes thee?” Told a friend of mine yesterday that she had accessory leprosy, and was leaving “bits and pieces of herself all over

England

[the town we live in].”

Any bad disaster movie, especially those airing on cable tv? I am there. Love bad disaster movies. Love good ones. Love mediocre ones. If something is going to blow up, and a dog is going to heroically and improbably survive, I’m there.

Books: I still occasionally enjoy my Babysitters Club novels. I love Mercedes Lackey’s Valdemar books. Laurie R. King’s Mary Russell/Sherlock Holmes books? You’ll pry them out of my cold, dead fingers before I’ll give those up. I love a good, well-written Mary Sue. And I consume Harry Potter fanfic like it’s part of my recommended daily allowance of calcium.

One of my mentors keeps pestering me to be able to answer the question of whether or not the material I’m writing my dissertation on (1820s-1840s sentimental poetry) is any “good,” and I finally told her that I can’t answer the question. Because I think a lot of it’s good, but I think I have terrible taste. So.

Also, I adored the first season of Joe Millionaire.

And if they ever release it on DVD, I’m so there. Ditto with both of the first two seasons of Average Joe. GOD I loved that show.

Thing is, when you’re seen to be “in a position of authority”

Eek!
Our Goddess
Who art Nora Roberts
Hallowed be thy name
May I never be seen as someone in authority
Ever
Amen!

~love the movie *Independence Day* and will maintain until my dying breath that there is a romantic element in there… buried deep. ~

Damn right there is! Plus Will Smith. Hot. And Goldblum—also hot. Nerd hot.

I LOVE that movie!

“Welcome to Earth!” Pow!!

It doesn’t get better.

Argh! In all my earnestness, I forgot my confession of bad taste!

I will stop dead still in front of a tv to watch any form of soap opera. Days of our Lives, Young and the Restless, Bold and the Beautiful, I’ll watch any and all of them. I’ll also watch the Aussie versions (which involve less inter-family marrying, but more earthquakes/floods/arson and other things involving fire and lots of water): Neighbours and Home & Away. I can’t help myself. If there’s a soap opera on you’ve lost me.

Hell yes, MXC. The bad dubbing on that show? I laugh SO hard. It’s the ultimate no-brow entertainment.

Seconding Demolition Man. Sandra Bullock sings the Oscar Meyer wiener song.

The Flashdance soundtrack was my staple in my teenage years, and I’m probably younger than you think I am.

I had a Spam sandwich for breakfast this morning with a slice of pepper-jack cheese, just in case I wasn’t getting enough sodium. And Earl Grey tea, because I’m only half hillbilly.

Oooo, how did I forget this?

I bought the movie Evolution with David Duchovney, Julianne Moore and Orlando Jones, for my husband. What can I say? It was in the $5 bin at Walmart…

I LOVE this movie. LOVE it, and all for two lines:

Julianne to David: “I would’ve rocked your world.”

David replies (with absolutely no change in facial expression): “You already have.”

My sons love it for this line, which is more or less (less) quoted correctly:

David: “That giant sphincter just ate my friend!”

Yep. Butt humor at its finest.

Lorelei-
I used to drink coffee by the gallon. Back in college, especially when getting through the 20-odd research papers I had to do. ( History major here!)
But after that, it just tasted like crap. So if I absolutely HAVE to have a warm caffinated beverage- bring on Earl Grey!

Rosemary!

I not only own multiple Vin Diesel movies ... I have a nearly life sized cut out of Vin that my sister-in-law pinched from a Chronicles of Riddick display because she knew how much I loved/lusted for him. To my shame, I have even seen The Pacifier twice.

There, I said it. Twice!

Oooh. I’d forgotten about Jeff Goldblum’s “Independence Day” nerdy hotness.

I will watch “A League of Their Own” and “Miss Congeniality” every time they’re on TV, start to finish.

Independence Day is one of the greatest movies of the 1990s. Nora’s right—“welcome to Earth”? BRILLIANT.

You know what else was great? Passions. I loved that show.

Oh man, I forgot about Passions. It got away from me at some point, but Tabitha and Timmy were hilarious.

No surprises here, but I love old cheesy pirate movies.  Technicolor or B&W, if they have Errol Flynn, or Burt Lancaster, or Yul Brynner, or Frederic March (and especially if they have Basil Rathbone or Claude Rains as the Ebil Villain), I am right there in front of the tube with my single malt and the DVR remote.

Thank goodness for Turner Classic Movies!

MamaNice: “The Young Riders” grabbed hold of me and didn’t let go. Nothing else explains how, ten years after the show was canceled, I finished my master’s thesis on legends of the old west. I wanted to be Lou.

snarkhunter: Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves inspired me to write What a Scoundrel Wants. Me + Christian Slater = debut book material, apparently. It’s just pathetic. I get weepy with the opening piano notes from the Bryan Adams song.

Other confessions: “So You Think You Can Dance,” the music of Journey, and corned beef hash—that dog food lookin’ shit in a can. Love it.

Damn right there is! Plus Will Smith. Hot. And Goldblum—also hot. Nerd hot.

Hmmm…. I’ll arm wrestle ya, Nora, over who gets Will and Jeff.

“Nuttin’ but LOVE for ya!”

pennifer, I hate to drag out this dusty old trope, but. But.

I’d bet you dollars to doughnuts that if this were a site about Mystery/Crime/SF what have you, run by two smart and snarky men, it would not even be an issue.

We are women, therefore we are supposed to play nice. We are supposed to encourage, embrace the (socially accepted definition of) sisterhood, be kind, be humble, and generally pooh sunshine and rainbows.  At least in public.

Behind the back bitching and snarking is quite acceptable.

I’d agree, there are plenty of folks who are intimidated by a strong, intelligent women voicing a strong, informed opinion (*cough*Hillary Clinton*cough).  Unfortunately, those intimidated folks do not usually engage in a debate or discussion, but rather sit back, don their Terrible Hat of Judgment, and shout, “You bitches have gone too far!”

The problem is, in my experience anyway, that you can never please the judgers unless you censor yourself blind and kowtow to them and their opinions.  And that just ain’t right.

Okay, in consideration for the categries I didn’t mention in my first post…

Food: I gobble Macadamia nuts like they were baby carrots. I also love me some BBQ sauce on my Tuna Fish. Gross? Maybe. Delicious? Absolutely! When I was younger, I used to eat creamy russian dressing sandwiches. As in, two slices of white bread with only russian dressing in between. I’d practically give up my soul for a box of Crispy Creme Doughnuts.

Movies: I liked League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, and I will still stop and watch it. I also loved “Hoodwinked” and the original “Dungeons and Dragons” cartoon… heck, I have the episodes on DVD! I also have a DVD of “Dungeons and Dragons: Wrath of the Dragon God. Go Falazhure! (I am also so incredibly geeky/nerdy that I actually *know* the name of the Dragon God of Death… How geeky/nerdy is that?”

Music: I own the Backstreet Boys “Millenium” CD. And I listen to it. My favorite songs at the moment are “Barbie Girl” by Aqua and “Mad World” as sung by Gary John Jules.

Oh, and whoever mentioned Bimbos of the Death Sun? I’m a proud member of the f/sf fen, and I love that book.

Now I have to track down a copy of Carrie Lofty’s What a Scoundrel Wants. Any book inspired by my beloved RH:PoT needs to be read by me.

Any bad disaster movie, especially those airing on cable tv? I am there. Love bad disaster movies. Love good ones. Love mediocre ones. If something is going to blow up, and a dog is going to heroically and improbably survive, I’m there.

ME TOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!  I lurves me some disaster movies!  Hence the big *HEART* for Godzilla movies.  And Towering Inferno and the original Poseidon Adventure.  (The remake sucked zookeeper-filled elephant ass.)  And I can’t wait to see Cloverfield on Friday.

Trixie Belden is so not a guilty pleasure!  Trixie has an older man!  And he tries to control her and keep her out of trouble but it never works because Trixie can smell trouble and will never be held back!  And there are horses!  Horses!

The Carpenters make me cry!  I might even be eating Pringles while the Carpenters make me cry.

And while you’re bookstore clerk may not have anything worthwhile to say about romance your friendly neighborhood librarian is probably ready and willing to discuss the historical significance of Jude Deveraux’s Velvet series and point you in the direction of the new book shelf!  At least I would if you came into my library!

Why is there a smilely in the middle of my acronym? God, I HATE those out-of-control smileys (smilies)?

Independence Day is one of the greatest movies of the 1990s. Nora’s right—“welcome to Earth”? BRILLIANT

OMG- I love that movie!!

“Hello boys- I’m BACKKKKKKK!!”

So darn cool!

(and Bill Paxton in that movie- Yummy!)

(And I think that phrase [sucked zookeeper-filled elephant ass] will now become a staple of my vocabulary.)

Hmm…

I have every Vin Diesel movie ever made. I also have the X-Box game Escape from Butcher Bay, for which he did the voice work. I also have the Riddick cartoon DVD, for which he did the voice work.

I love ID4, MiB, and Evolution. If it has lasers, I’ll watch it. I’ve seen Barbarella more than once.

But I’m not even remotely ashamed of the above. My secret guilty pleasure?

Well…

*whispers* I have a Neil Diamond song on my ITunes “Most Played” list.

You know, I could enter a whole ‘nuther realm of bad taste just by going through my DVD collection, but I’ll sum it up in one go.

I own the Boxed Edition of the original Transformers cartoons, Generation One, seasons 1-4.  Only since this box set isn’t available in English, my set is in Chinese.  You have to guess on the menus to get what you want.  Do I care?  Not a lick.  Optimus Prime was my first crush, and I still want to marry him and have his robot babies.

... and I have chrome Autobot symbols on my car…

Soap Operas…I am so thankful to soapnet!  Now I can watch GH, DOOL & OLTL!

movies I love - most any older Steve Martin film, absolute favorite is
THE JERK…
“Ohhhh, I’m picking out a thermos for you, Not an ordinary thermos for you, But the extra-best thermos, you can buy….”

Nope, the librarians pretty much mock me, too.  Maybe I just haven’t found the right one yet. I do highly recommend the romance buyer/ bookseller at the bookstore in Grand Central Station, but I’m not able to take an hour train ride to buy all my lovely books.

And you want to talk about disgusting sandwiches?  I eat gravy sandwiches every time I go home and have my mom’s porkchops.  Yes, that’s creamy yummy gravy and bread.  Period.  My mom can’t even be in the same room with me as I eat them.

Oh, and I love ABBA.  To give you some perspective, I was born after all of their tours and recordings were over AND the first revival musical (Abbacadabra) had hit the airwaves.

Ah, I may have forgotten to mention—that’s COLD gravy.

Whitney, My Love by Judith McNaught

Luuuurve it!

Love every trashy perfect scene in which she conquers London with her oh-so-unique-and-rebellious-high-spirits-and-beauty,
and I adore all the angst and ridiculousness of the whole I-paid-your-father-for-you-plz-fall-in-lurve-with-me-now-
OMG-you-slept-with-the-stableboy-GAH!-I-practically-
raped-you-oh-the-misunderstandings!-
whose-your-babydaddy-murder-attempt plot!

In fact I love her entire oeuvre… Total comfort trashy novels that I can always curl up with and read.

I “embraced” my bad taste, then got a divorce…

Alessia - I can see the misogyny.(Stranger in a Strange Land pops into mind first) I also see an author who gave us Friday and Captain Hildy.  And for the rest of it?  I just don’t care.

Independance Day?  I’m totally in the Bill Paxton camp.  President jet fighter, yes please!

I don’t think liking something you know is bad is an example of bad taste. If anything it’s good taste since you acknowledge it as a guilty pleasure. I think it’s a different thing, though, to like something bad without seeing the flaws.

For example, I love the Carmina Burana by Carl Orff, a piece that is roundly condemned by classical music listeners as bombastic and cheesy. I love it anyway. I found myself in a bizarre argument recently, though, with some who loved it unironically. I ended up arguing against it, pointing out all of its flaws, and condemning the other person for liking it, even though I love it, too. Essentially, it’s fine to love trash if you know it’s trash. But if you don’t know it, then you can be accused of having bad taste, and in that case coming across a critical review of it can seem like a classist condemnation of taste, like the reviewer is patronizing the enjoyer-of-bad-art as not knowing any better.

That being said, I think it’s bull. If something has flaws, we should be able to point them out without worrying about offending authors and readers. I mean, that’s half the fun.

(I own the “Power Rangers Rock Adventure” album. And I love it.)

Oh, god, no one else has even mentioned my secret shame. I love the sappy, syrupy stories. I have a little corner of Ellswyth Thane on my bookshelves. Give me the lone survivor of a dynasty of men who loved their house and land more than they loved their wives meeting up with the woman who loves the house as much they do and I go all woozy and melt.  Oh no - now I want to reread it! again!

I love all the ‘admissions’ and will admit to some guilty pleasures later on, but before that I wanted to share an observation about the issue of ‘hate my reading taste, hate me’. 

I’m a fan of Lois McMaster Bujold and on her mailing list.  It’s really been interesting to see how many of her fans - many male, but not exclusively - would happily trash romance at any opportunity until Bujold came out with more ‘romancy’ books and also started talking about all the romances she’s been inspired by or is reading currently.

The ‘nobody would read that romance trash’ talk has abated.  Go figure. grin

I still laugh imagining all these ‘we read SF and are therefore superior to romance readers’ folks getting that foul taste in their mouth… ‘oh my God, she wrote a romance and I read it and I liked it… ick’ he he

It seems to be in human nature to want to be able to feel superior to somebody else.

My guilty admission.  I do feel superior to the readers of CE.  I know it’s not politically correct, I know I shouldn’t, but I do. There, I admitted it.  I wonder whether I feel better now?  Confession being good for the soul and all.

My former guilty pleasure (can’t read them any more due to the writing style making me dizzy) was Rosemary Rogers.  Reading about Steve and Ginny made me literally feel dirty, but I just couldn’t stop myself.

Thank the spirits, I’m over that… he he.

Current guilty pleasures are Silhouette Desires. Some of them are actually quite good, some not so… :)

I own a copy of Urban “I’m sorry all the way back to the first time I hit you” Cowboy…and I recommend it to friends.

And for all the Bill Paxton fans, you simply must see Broken Lizard’s Club Dredd. It’s by the same group that made Super Troopers and Beerfest. My favorite Bill line, “Do you think Eddie Money has to put up with this shit!?”

lot75: yeah, I have a lot of bad taste and could go on, but I’m late for work

I feel like I am at confession. Father forgive me for I have sinned..

I love Barry Manilow! Especially his Christmas album. Hell I’ll pull it out in summer just to hear him sing Baby It’s Cold Outside.

Man I know I’ll catch hell for this but I love me some Sherrilyn “swan hat” Kenyon novels. The Darkhunters are the best thing evha! I also love Dara Joy & all books that contain a sheik. Sad, I KNOW!

The movie Rhinestone, Sylvester Stallone + Dolly Parton + Country Music in NYC = Sheer friggin’ genius!

Please also add me to the Transformer fan list - I had to wait for the movie to come to home video because I knew I would embarass myself if I saw it in public. I was right because my inner geek had an orgasm while watching it.

I also love disaster movies too and I watched 10.5 on the Sci fi channel yesterday. I also love their crappy dinosaur movies too! Pterodactyl? Oh yeah count me in for some B movie fun.

Spam = yummy when fried crispy, and thank to my southern granny I love fried potato sandwiches & butter sandwiches too.

I understand if no one ever wants to speak to me again.

Well, I guess I truly have bad taste, Ivy, because I didn’t know I was supposed to be ashamed of liking/adoring/overdosing on half the things listed by the bitchery as shameful.

Then again, I’ve always known that I have bad taste, so there goes that one.

Perhaps I can be shamed by saying that I don’t understand chocolate cravings?

Perfect day (n) puuurfect duh-hey: Ruffles potato chips, because Ruffles have ridges; sour cream, onion soup mix, Penfold’s cab sauv (bin 407 if you’re at all interested) and Lifetime Television For Women.  Not the half-way respectable stuff either.  That movie where the chick finds out her husband has another wife and after battling anorexia, multiple assaults by her dentist while she was sedated, finding out that the loser who stole her husband is in fact her long-lost twin, kills him, the long-lost twin, reunites with her son who was kidnapped when he was five, goes to jail, writes a bestseller, gets out of jail, falls in love with the supportive neighbor who’s been there all along and lives happily ever after.

I won’t answer the phone if Lifetime does a marathon of these things.

And thanks to all of you who mentioned Kraft Mac & Cheese.  First thing I thought when I read those entries was, “wouldn’t mac & cheese be De-Vine instead of Ruffles despite their ridges?  Especially if I added a little more Velveeta.

Oh heck.

I lubs me some oddball stuff (often cheesy) sometimes.

Sometimes, if a reviewer of a movie states, “It sucks”, it might just be for me. I end up loving it and its a keeper. Same way if a movie gets great reviews. I watch it and say “Dang, this is dog doo doo.”

But I do try to sample everything, just so I don’t get stagnant. Hey, as with what this post is about, you find a gem amongst the thorns. If your mind had been closed entirely to such things, well you’d have lost a good read.

Being willing to set aside preconceived notions is the greatest of intellectual talents, in my humble opinon.

Mmmm….Velveeeeeeta…

My mom makes this dish called ‘Sin Potatoes’—potatoes, bacon, and Velveeta , all wrapped up in a lovely casserole.  I can feel my arteries hardening as I eat it and still can’t get enough.

Journey. Lovin’ Touchin’ and Squeezin’ comes on the radio and I turn it up so loud ears bleed in neighboring cars (or maybe that’s because I’m singing along at the top of my voice)

Air Supply.

The Rose, the Conway Twitty version (hangs head in shame).

Buffy. Gimme some Angel and Spike baby.

Karen Robards historical romance. I think it was Loving Julia. The BJ scene in the carriage, OMG I can still fantasize about that one!

And I agree with whoever said Rosemary Rogers. I always feel dirty but couldn’t ever put them down. And if a man ever really treated me that way he’d be on the way to a plastic surgeon.

Wait, wait, wait, Robinjn. No way is my girl Buffy considered bad taste, poor quality, or something to feel guilty about. “Buffy” was, is, and always will be brilliant television.

Aaargh, natto.  My boyfriend eats natto.  I don’t understand how the hell he does it.

I’ve been fighting with myself lately over the fact that I, a perfectly rational, feminist, successful twentysomething, like Disney princesses.  I went to see two movies two weekends in a row—one was Enchanted, the other was Michael Clayton.  I loved Enchanted, even though I can point to exactly where the plot falls apart a little or erupt with an “Oh come ON” in the middle of a scene, and I sat through Michael Clayton going “god, what’s even happening in this movie, how could anyone find this interesting, kill me now.”  I still can’t shake the feeling that I am somehow stupider than the rest of the world because I eat up fairy tales and deep intellectual legal or political dramas can bite my shiny metal ass.

Still.  Disney princesses.  Love ‘em.  Good god.

Buffy is brilliant! Please.

Ditto Transformers! Go Bumblebee!

Oh, I LOVE disaster flicks, too!!

I am home here.

Two words ... Diana. Palmer.

But only when I’m PMSing ...

[sob] This is like Post Secret, without the stamp! Thanks, Bitches.

— Bonz

Wait, wait, wait, Robinjn. No way is my girl Buffy considered bad taste, poor quality, or something to feel guilty about. “Buffy” was, is, and always will be brilliant television.

Okay, maybe it’s because all my friends look at me like I have 3 heads when I try to enlighten them on the Genius of Whedon.

Firefly I absolutely refuse to apologize for. Mal, Mal, Mal baby.

I love the old Harlequins, where the guy is a surgeon/lawyer/rich guy and the girl is a young poor girl with a huge family to support and he falls madly in love with her. Formulaic, yep. Love them. And they’re usually short so they’re like an hour of escapism and then you’re back to reality if you have to be.

Actors - The Rock. Mmmmmmn. He is smokin’ hot.

Food - Sardines. In oil. I can eat a whole can, straight. Yum! And those tiny powdered donuts that come in a box. The more chemical-weird smelling, the better.

Movies - Highlander. Aaaaaah. Oh, to be Heather with my beloved Christopher slightly-crosseyed but oh-so-hot-in-a-kilt Lambert. Most romantic movie ever, even though yeah, it hasn’t stood the test of time all that well (hello 80s!)