Smart Bitches, Trashy Books

Oh, man.  The most offensive press question I’ve been asked (so far) was, “Is it true that Asian women are uniquely skilled in the bedroom?”

Yikes!

Marjorie babe,
I hope you demurely replied, “yes.”  Are you back from China yet?  Me miss you.

Oh, and here’s how I answered (more or less):

Asking if all Asian women are good in bed is like asking if all Native Americans are spiritualists who wear feathers in their hair, or if all African-Americans are gangsters or basketball players.  It’s the worst kind of stereotype, and there isn’t some gene that Asian women have that makes them utterly bootylicious in the sack.  Stereotypes like the above dehumanize the individual and lump people into categories that are outdated and ignorant.

Gennita - HA!  I should have.  I totally should have.  My sense of humor wasn’t great that day, though.

Me not back from China.  Me miss you, too!  Me need to update blog with more pictures.

I am not asked as many ridiculous questions as I am the recipient of comments on my person whether it is the way I look or how I act.

I’m not a tall person and I am just starting to look my age now. So when I graduated from dental school, no one I would meet regardless of sex,age,etc., believed that I was a dentist.  They always thought I was mistaken when I told them and tried to correct me and tell me that I was a hygienist. Fun.

  I also at the time had very short hair and I had a male patient tell me in front of his long blond- haired girlfriend that even tough he hates short hair on women, it looked cute on me.

We wear scrubs of course in the office and I often get the comment ” I didn’t realize how small/skinny/pick a term you are when you aren’t wearing scrubs”  So flattering.

It’s as if I’m free game for judgement for some reason.

So due to my perversity as a person in general, I decided what the hell and just started to dress and style my hair any way I want. Its very freeing. I was that way in high school too. To me, its not worth trying to maintain some kind of “professional demeanor” about town. Dentistry is what I do on a part time basis not who I am.

Oh yeah, and I take my trashy novels with me, out in the open, everywhere I go.

It’s as if I’m free game for judgement for some reason.

Darlin’ we all are.  It has nothing to do with looking young for your age or whatever.  If we went looking for someone who’s your polar opposite they’d get comments like “I hadn’t realised how tall/big you are out of scrubs”.  Or “You’re 30?  Wow, I never would have guessed.” With the implication being they really looked fifteen years older.

And re: Sarah’s post - I get comments all the time in the elevator of my office building.  A lot of them are kinda admiring, “Wow, you read a lot” or “How many books do you go through?”  A couple times I’ve gotten “Why do you read that stuff?”  I smiled and said “Because it’s better written than that awful Tom Clancy stuff.”  (I work in a military environment.  Clancy’s big.  Real big.)

When I was very pregnant and sitting in a hospital waiting room (not to give birth, just for a test) and reading a manuscript, some guy asked me the “Is it real life research?” question about sex scenes. I decided he was an obnoxious jerk and so I smothered him in explanations that I am sure convinced him that romance writers were as serious as neurosurgeons. And as humorless. It wasn’t a very pleasant test and I and baby were not in a good mood.

But what I should have done was pat my protruding belly and said sadly, “Yes, and here is the result of my research.”

I’m a housewife and I always get the “Can I talk to your husband about this?” anytime money is brought up. It drives me a bit nuts because I handle the money. lol I think next time I’ll just say yes and point to a random guy in the store for them to talk to.

I have really short hair by choice because I have seborrhea (a skin condition). Once a woman came up to me in a bookstore and loudly pronounced “I know Just What Will Cure You!” She then proceeded to tell me all about the marvels of hydrocortizone cream… of which I had already been using for five years. Eeesh.

The most stupid or offensive question I was ever asked, though, was by a girl from Michigan.  She was active-duty Air Force and I was working at the NCO Club, waiting tables in the bar part-time.  She was there with one of my “regulars”, a guy from Alabama.  As I came over to deliver their beers, he told her, “Tina’s from Kentucky.  Why don’t you ask her?”

“Ask me what?”

After a little more urging, she asked me the question that she’d apparently asked him first….

“Is it true that all girls from the South are stupid?”

I get a lot of the “But can’t you just get over it?” questions when it comes to my social phobia.  Well, of course!  Why didn’t I think of that?  Just…get over it!  Thank you, random person.  Had you not suggested that I might have been trapped in this house for YEARS.

This isn’t a press question, but it’s still my hands down favorite offensive author question—and I’ve gotten it over and over and over: 

“So, when are you going to write a real book?” 

Riiiiiight.  Those papery things I thought I had written are just remarkably realistic hallucinations.

The other, which usually happens at cocktail parties once the gin and tonic has been flowing a little too freely, is generally:  “How do you write the love scenes?”  This is usually pronounced with a slight leer and a puff of booze in the face.  Fortunately, my brilliant college roommate provided me with the perfect response.  With folded hands and a demure smile, I say, “I just lie back and think of England.”

I’m an unpublished romance author, so I don’t get press questions yet. I get plenty from people we know, though. They all revolve around the same themes.

1. Why do you “write porn”?

I usually respond with, “If I did, I’d make more money.” I also mention that sexuality is present in MOST genres of modern fiction.

2. Does your husband enjoy the research?

“He’s tired but happy,” usually leaves them speechless.

3. When are you going to write a “real” book?

When I mention that the books I write are typically 100,000 words, this tends to shut people up as well. Then again, that brings me to:

4. I have a great idea for a book. Would you write it for me?

Our grandma is currently trying to lobby me into writing a screenplay for her. I’m hoping she’ll forget about it…

-S

I have red hair, and I’ve been asked if my carpet matched my curtains.

Once while attending a conference for school, I got asked if it was true that we did not have to wear shoes in school in West Virginia.

Without thinking, I replied that shoes were mandatory but panties were optional.

Got in trouble for that one.

I was once asked by a reader if I would buy her a pair of red silk pants (good ones, not cheap) for Christmas, or failing that, just send her 100 USD so she could buy her own. The same reader regularly requested I find her a nice Muslem boy.

I’m often asked by reporters if I’ve done everything I write about. Yes, of course! I’ve solved crimes and committed same, roped cattle, danced on Broadway, am an accomplished artist in various mediums, cast spells, fought vampires, raised horses, given birth to triplets and many other feats—and still have time for crazy, wild sex.

As a librarian, a majority of the questions/comments I get are about the Dewey Decimal System.

The problem is that I’m an academic librarian at a medical school and Dewey is the biggest fucking joke in the universe when it comes to actually organizing a large collection over very specific topics.  (And, Melville Dewey was an insane, misogynisic, racist ass-fuck who thought that there were too many letters in the alphabet, but that’s a topic for another day.)  So, when I say, “I don’t use Dewey, I use NLM.” most people think that I’m lying and making it up.

LOL, damn Ms. Nora when do you sleep?

Once I was visiting my brother who was station at Fort Benning in Georgia. I met some people who proceeded to ask me what it was like to grow up in Indiana. I told them it was, you know, quiet but nice. Then they asked me if it’s true that we eat opossum and marry our cousins. WTF? So, being the bi-atch I am, I looked at them and said “As far as I know, that only happens in Georgia.”

Several times, when people (male people) have asked me what I do for a living, their response when I answer “MSc in Engineering Cybernetics” have been condescending laughs and various versions of “Of course not”. Fun.

Despite the fact that every bio on me mentions that I was born in New York, more than once I’ve had, “Your English is excellent—how old were you when you learned?”

I work at a library system headquarters. In the building with us is a Talking Book Center, which provides audio books to people who can’t read printed books for various reasons. They do a lot of phone consulting with their patrons, recommending books based on what the patron likes, what they’ve already read, etc. So my assumption was that the folks in the center should be open to all sorts of books and nonjudgmental about people’s choice of reading material, right?

I was sitting in the break room one day, when the director of the Talking Book Center comes by and asks me what I’m reading. Actually she says, “Oh is that literary fiction? I just love literary fiction!”

I glanced at my book. Pam Rosenthal, ‘Bookseller’s Daughter.’ Trade sized, nice wallpaper cover. Educated, well-reviewed author. I’m on solid ground here. So I smiled and said, “Actually, it’s a romance.”

She was literally speechless. She just gave me this bug-eyed look of absolute horror. Like I had said I was eating boiled babies for lunch. She didn’t even attempt to make conversation with me for months afterward.

The best part? What I usually see Miss Literary Fiction reading is People magazine. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but it isn’t exactly intellectually challenging.

Loved all these stories! 
I’ve never had any interviewer insult me, thank gawd.  I’ve been prepared, though, with a response like Nora’s if I ever got that “research”

question.  Why, yes, I’ve murdered people just to get the details right.

My mom had some clients who offered to give me “the story of a lifetime” if I took them out to dinner and plied them with drinks.  I told her to tell them they’d have to ply ME with drinks for me to listen to their story.

I don’t think she told them.

Cheers,
Tina Wainscott

My husband is an officer in the Navy and it seems that high-ranking Navy folk are fascinated with sex scenes.  At formal functions I’ve had all sorts of variations of “how do you research your sex scenes?”
After years of murmuring something polite, I’d finally had it one time and said “Well, it’s kind of tough when the laptop keeps slipping off Judd’s back.  And did you know that chocolate sauce voids Dell’s warranty?”  Gave a bright “I’m so blonde” smile, and moved on.

Were we going for most offensive in general?

Upon starting at a new high school—
Blond girl sits in front of me:  “Do you speak English?”
Me: (Astonished, there’s silent jaw dropping.)
BG:  “Hablas engles?”
Me:  “Very well, thank you.”

At the same school:
“Are you an Oreo?”

But my very favorite-est of all, upon finding out my mom was gay:
“Do you have AIDs?”

Marjorie Liu I love your answer. I probably would have stumbled my way through an answer that is nowher near the way you handled it.

I was a vegetarian for several years, and the most annoying questions I’d get were about that.  I especially loved the: “You don’t eat any meat?  What about fish?”  But the most annoying part were co-workers who would ask (over and over everytime we had a work potluck): “So what do you eat?”

The most offensive comments I get are about my ass (it is a rather prominent feature…and now that I have a partner whose appreciative, I’ve found peace with this).  It’s amazing how people do feel the right to make comments or ask questions about such intimate things.

I only really recall 1 time when someone asked a rude question regarding a book I was reading. And they weren’t so much rude as condescending.

Once I was reading a John Jakes book and one of my professor’s saw it sitting in my office and she asked “who’s reading this trash?” On one hand, I sort of understood her comment because she was a history prof and I think her comment was based on the fact that his historical accuracy is lacking. On the other hand, she forgot that I babysat for her and thus I saw her library. She really had no room to talk.

Despite being from Kentucky I’ve managed to avoid being asked offensive questions based on that fact.

To preface this: most of what I’ve written until recently is romantic erotica, and the novels range from paranormal to contemporary suspense, and some bondage books—lots of sex for my former publisher before writing for St. Martin’s. (well, lots of sex for them, too)

Anyway, I’ve had this said to or asked of me in some form or another:

“You must have a lot of experience.”

Picture me dropping my jaw. Then replying. “Yes. With weretigers, vampires and Elves and cowboys, and I love menages. And bondage. I really like being tied up.”

Lord.

Cheyenne

...wow. I can honestly say that I’ve never had questions quite as idiotic and offensive as most of you.

The only things I get on a regular basis that irritate me are related to me being a grad student in English. First, there’s the inevitable, “But what do you do with that?” Which I feel I must answer politely, because they’re usually asking out of genuine befuddlement.

The one I really hate isn’t a question—it’s when someone says, upon hearing what I do, “Oh, well, I’ll have to be careful of what I say, then, or you’ll be correcting my grammar.” I just smile through clenched teeth.

Nora you rock I heart you!

For everyone who’s asked: “When are you going to read/write real books?” by friends and family, just respond: “As soon as I find real, non-judgmental, friends.” Works for me almost everytime!

I have really short hair and I once got asked rather randomly in a book store, “So which charity did you donate your hair to?”  No, actually, I LIKE my hair this short and I look really shitty when it grows out.  Thanks.

My mother will say things to me like, “Could you recommend…oh, never mind, you don’t read real books.”  My Ph.D. notwithstanding.  I think she’s actually rather despairing of the fact that my career seems to be focusing solely on romances.  I love it.  She probably thinks that I’ll never read anything “worthwhile” again.  ::shrug:: I’m fine with that.

Snarkhunter!  YES!  I get that ALL the time.  The worst is when I’m doing drill for the Guard and some Major or Colonel discovers that I have a Ph.D. in English and make a crack about watching what he says.  I can’t make a crack back, because they outrank me, and then I have to sit there while they joke about it.  I have yet to come up with a snappy answer to stupid shit like that.

Although I did once walk into a room just as one male Major with his back to the door was saying something stupid about women in the military.  The other officer got this deer-in-headlights look on his face and the major who had made the crack got really really still.  So I said, “What was that, sir?”  And then his neck got really really red.  That’ll teach him!  I enjoyed that!

This wasn’t from from the press but from a bookseller telling me he couldn’t praise the sort of reader who didn’t want to be challenged, made to feel uncomfortable, etc. and that the general romance readers doesn’t want their mind opened further.

while in california for a convention a few years ago, i was asked some ridiculous questions upon the discovery that i was from oklahoma.

my FAVORITE question was “do you still live in teepees?” [and they were serious]

my response?
“well no. we live in houses. but the best part is we just got electricity & running water last week. it’s way better than that smelly outhouse.” **big smile**

When people see me reading romance, I normally get - “But you seemed so smart” or my personal favorite from my mother for YEARS - “but you have a brain! I gave you one!”

Ever since I tricked her into reading the first JD Robb book I haven’t heard that last one though. Instead, I hear “MINE!” in the battle for quite a few of the books she used to mock regularly.

>I have red hair, and I’ve been asked >if my carpet matched my curtains.

Brianna, you should have told them you had hardwood floors!

I’ve spent my entire adult life working in publishing. Genre publishing for much of that time, but by no means all. So when a college friend of mine who has been writing the Great American Novel for forever told me “You don’t know anything about publishing,” I was speechless. Just speechless.

“Will you babysit for me?”, or could you take my kids to school/sports practice/lessons?”  Cause i’m a SAHM.

I answer: sure I charge ten dollars an hour per child plus gas and you’ll have to pay for food expenses.

Oh, and we got the “How do I find someone to write my idea for me and not steal it?” question just last night.

I’ve known a writer who got suckered into writing up a nonfiction account for someone, only to have the person turn around and claim that since the story happened to her, the writing belonged to her, too.

A lot of people just do not understand what copyright is about.

“But how can a woman write convincingly about two men having sex?”

The same way I write convincingly about being the crew member of a spaceship, meeting an alien, having sex with a vampire. And the same way a lot of writers write convincingly about murderers.

The most offense comment was a ‘friend’ saying to a group of people that we (romance authors) churn novels out so it must be easy. Then she looked at me and said ‘No Offense.”
OF COURSE I was offended. What an maroon.

And talk about timing…I’m actually running a contest for this right now—best snarky replies to offensive comments about the romance genre. There are wonderful, snarky replies if you want to take a look!

I was once asked by a very ambitious male coworker why I write romance when I could be writing something much better, like science fiction. 

Without thinking, I answered that romance represented over half of the fiction market and I preferred to focus my efforts where the biggest potential return was.

His eyes grew very round and he sighed, saying maybe he should think about writing one.  LOL

Diane

Apparently I don’t look—or sound—Mexican enough, so occasionally people are taken by surprise to learn that I am. Some of the questions after that are offensive to the point of speechlessness, but most are born of utter ignorance. Such as, “do you guys have stores? and malls?”

Brianna: did you slap the person who asked that silly? Please tell me you did!

There are apparently 2 of us Brianna’s on this site. Pretty funny about the drapes matching the carpet.

I work with the public and one time a guy kept questioning me about my shaving habits. When I asked him to stop he just kept saying “So, do you shave all your body hair?”. Yeeeeahhhhhhhh Creepy.

Oh man, I just remembered another one—at a writing conference, a general conference with all manner of genres and styles represented, I happened to find myself at lunch seated with several older gentlemen who were all writing military history memoirs, one poet, and Serious Literary Girl. 

She asked everyone in turn what they were writing and when she got to me, I answered “women’s fiction and romance.”  You could almost see her scooting her chair a few inches away, as if she was afraid to catch the cooties.  She responded with, “Well, after all the workshops I’ve been to this weekend, I can safely say that what I’m writing is definitely literary fiction, thank God.  I was worried it might fall into some genre classification and it would be difficult for readers to find my books.”

She then turned to me and said, “Don’t you feel that you’re limiting yourself by writing… genre?  I mean, don’t you want people to be able your books on the shelves?”

I responded with, “Considering that romance and women’s fiction account for over half of the paperback fiction market I’ll lay money that people find my book on a shelf before they find yours.”

Yeah, it was mean.  I felt kind of bad afterwards.  But not much.

Dr. Frantz—I have the opposite problem of this: I have really short hair and I once got asked rather randomly in a book store, “So which charity did you donate your hair to?”

I have really, really long hair (down to my butt), and am constantly asked when I’m going to donate it, or told that I should donate it. It always makes me feel horribly guilty, and I just shrug and say that I like my hair, but if I ever feel up to cutting it off, of course I’ll donate it.

(By the way—and I apologize if this sounds totally stalkery—but a new hire in my department knows you from school. We were discussing my research interests, and I said I was interested in romance novels, and she replied, “Oh, I went to school with someone who was into that—Sarah Frantz?”)

“to be able to find your books on the shelves.”

This is what I get for trying to type and talk to my mother on the phone at the same time.

My favorite was the reporter who looked at my bookshelves and asked, “Have you read all these books?”

“Nah.  I buy them by the truckload ‘cause they’re easier to dust than nick-nacks.”

OK, that’s what I wished I’d said.  Instead I smiled politely and said, “Yes.  I enjoy reading.  You can’t be an effective writer if you don’t read a great many books.”

I’ve written a lot of erotica, and usually get asked, “So, do you do a lot of research?” [nudge nudge, wink wink]

We writers don’t have time to have sex.  We’re too busy writing pr0n.

Spinsterwitch I have exactly the same issues with being vegetarian. Also “what do you have for Christmas lunch?” every year, from all the same people who asked me last year. There were also a few regrettable instances of people thinking I would eat some food or other if they picked the meat out for me.

I’m tall (6’1”) and fat. I don’t get too much hassle about my height (a lot of good natured bantering, and I offer to boost a colleague up into my seat when swapping with them….) but I can recall one or two instances where my size in general was an issue.

I went to France as a “mini assistant” for two weeks when I was 17 (mini referring to the duration of the post which would normally be a year). Every time the petite, svelte, headmistress introduced me to people, she added: “she’s not very mini, is she?” which (especially at an insecure 17) got very old very quickly.

Despite being from Kentucky I’ve managed to avoid being asked offensive questions based on that fact.

Oh I get them all the time. The “do you wear shoes” one especially.

True story. We were a family of 6 who grew up in a lovely large home in a small KY town (Madisonville). Since there were 3 of us girls, my Dad built us a tiny playhouse out back. It was a garden shed at the back, but the front was a real door and there were windows and even a tiny loft. It was about 10’ x 10’.

Shortly after she married, my oldest sister moved to CA with her husband and took a graphic design job, where she endured constant slurs about her hick home in Kentucky and her accent. So she took in a picture of the playhouse that had been taken on a day when Mom had clothes out on the adjacent line and just sort of innocently laid it on her desk. And yep, they fell for it. “Sure,” she said, “all six of us grew up there. It made it easier to keep warm, being barefoot and all.”

Gemma I know exactly what you mean about the large comments. Being overweight myself I have total strangers offering me diet advice, and it’s annoying how many waiters ask me if I mean diet when I order a Coke, or even worse just bring it, ewww.

I also used to have very long hair down to my butt. I never got asked if I would donate it, but people would pat me all the time, like I was a really tall dog or something, geesh.

I’m totally blind, and I use a white cane when I go out, so that I can tell where I’m going. Invariably, people will ask me when I intend to get a dog. (the answer is: I don’t, mostly because I don’t like dogs and also my apartment is too small and it would be pretty cruel for the poor dog to be cooped up in a place this size for any length of time.) People will also ask me if I ever hit people with my cane on purpose. In fact, I ended up attracting the attention of a girl in my Sociology class the last two weeks of the semester because of that. She was fascinated by my cane, and seemed to be everywhere I was going, much tio my chagrin, waiting for me to hit people.

But actually, my mom has some great stories about people’s reactions when she took me out in public. Someone at the church we went to when I was little actually told Mom that I was a punishment from God for her sins, and one time, when she took me to the store when I was even smaller, I apparently got in the way of someone doing very important shopping. The man turned to my mom and shouted, “Can’t you curb your pet?”

Gemiwing, last year I joined a gym.  When they were filling out my paperwork, they asked if I was married (no).  Then they asked if I had a boyfriend (yes).  Then they were really interested in making sure my boyfriend was going to support the idea, which I thought was really weird as it never occurred to me that it was any of his business, seeing as how I have a lot of hours in my day that don’t have anything to do with him.

They never asked if I *lived* with my boyfriend.  My finances don’t have anything to do with his.  It didn’t occur to me that they were trying to figure out if The Breadwinner was going to come in and object until my mother signed up and stopped their pestering about if my father approved by saying “Well, I make my own money.”

Verification: Fiscal68

When people (usually males) ask me if I’m a natural blonde I tell them they can only pray they’d ever be lucky enough to find out.

When my hair was long and all the way down my back, females would sometimes say, “Your hair would look so good if it was just barely touching your shoulders.”  Finally I started replying with, “But then it would look just like yours and wouldn’t be anything special.”

When an annoying and pushy person on a plane asks what I’m reading I tell them gay vampire porn.

Several years ago I came up with the perfect response to the “I’ll give you all the ideas and you can write it into a book” dilemma:

“Um, okay, I guess I could do that. I tell you what: you write down all the stuff you want to include, and then I’ll go through and rewrite it and make it all writerly.”

I’ve had people say, “Sure!” in reply, but no one’s ever actually done it.

The most rude question I got asked concerning my reading material was when I was buying a bunch of romance novels before Christmas break, and the guy at the cash register asked me, “So, planning on a lot looonely nights?”  Uhg. 

In general, the rudest question I was ever asked was when I was looking at grad schools.  I wanted to stay in my home state, so my choices were kind of limited.  Anyway, at one school I was visiting, the department chair asked where I was from, and when I told her she said, “They have schools down there???”  Uh, like, no.  We just scramble barefoot in the dirt and eat bugs like the people in LOS HURDES.  Stupid bitch.  Needless to say, I did not go to that school.

Oh, and that was UC Boulder, btw, the “flagship” school of Colorado.  Oy.

I also keep my hair short—yep, I got that Caesar/Clooney haircut [what can I say?  I’m lazy, and I want my hair wash’n'wear], and I typically wear jeans, boots, and tweed blazers or leather jackets—but I don’t carry a purse.  And while I don’t look like a guy despite my un-girly wardrobe, I have been approached by folks assuming I’m a dike—which I ain’t. 

It was funny when some brain-dead tart expected me to wait and hold a door for her, but it was even funnier when I walked into my son’s school for the requisite how’s-my-kid-doing meeting.  A soccer mommy [she was so cookie-cutter] on her way out looked at me and stopped in her tracks, declaring, “You can’t be somebody’s mother!”

I shrugged.  “Oh, yeah?  Tell that to my uterus.”

Strange,... men don’t seem to be nearly as bothered by my appearance as some women evidently are.  What’s with that?

re: stupid requests

Back when I was doing freelance graphic design, some nit asked me about creating a painting of a unicorn for her—but she insisted it had to be of a ‘real unicorn!’

Me [deadpan]:  Certainly.  All I need from you is a deposit of [x] dollars, and some reference photos.

Needless to say,....

I should have included this in my response above. Maybe it merits its own, however…

I know a woman who couldn’t wait to tell me how “formulaic” romances are, how “easy” it must be to write one, how she was going to write a single title romance. Bear in mind, I don’t think she’s written anything more lengthy than a grocery list. Of course, I’m supportive, even if she’s rude as hell. After all, she’s my husband’s boss’ partner.

The last time I saw her, I asked how the writing was going. She asked me how long it typically took me to write a book. I responded that the first draft takes anywhere from five to seven months, then I do revisions.

The authors here will need to put down any soda, coffee, etcetera, before reading the following:

“Well, I don’t know if I want to spend all that time if it doesn’t hit the best-seller list. Why should I go to all that effort and not make a lot of money on it?”

Let’s just say that I avoid her now…

-S

Despite being from Kentucky I’ve managed to avoid being asked offensive questions based on that fact.

When I was dating my ex, his family lived in Chicago.  As we were driving into the city with his sister, the city skyline was lit and I turned to my ex and said, “Oh, look at that!  It’s so beautiful!”.  She turned and said, “Oh, that’s right!  You’ve probably never seen tall buildings before!”

When I was in the Air Force, I frequently heard, “Do you all wear shoes?”  “Do you all really marry your brother/cousin/daddy/uncle?”  (And they always say “YOOAHHWL” when they ask.)  Those questions were meant to give me a hard time about where I was from, though, and weren’t meant seriously.

The worst one I heard based on being from Kentucky, though:

An aquaintance is an elegant Southern deb-type by way of a long line of elegant Southern deb-types.  Perfect hair and understated but perfect make-up, manicures, and manners.  The family wasn’t part of the horse set, but they were related to it by marriage.  When the daughter decided to go to Columbia, her mother went up to attend some sort of sorority alumni function with her daughter.  So all of these mothers and daughters were gathered at the hotel and they decided to order out.  One of the mothers turned to my acquaintance’s mother and said, in all seriousness, “Now, you do know what pizza is, right?”  Without batting an eye, she replied, “I think I read about it on our journey here in our covered wagon.”

She turned and said, “Oh, that’s right! You’ve probably never seen tall buildings before!”

I was actually asked something similar before when I mentioned to someone that I grew up in a tiny dot on the map. They wondered if when I came to college was the first time I’d been to Louisville or out of my town at all. I had to explain that I’d been to Louisville quite frequently and that I had, in fact, been born in Tampa, FL.

I do find that I get the “have you ever been on a plane” question more frequently than others and then I get to reply “yes, I’ve been flying since I was 1.” The best part is when I’d ask if they’d ever been on a plane and get the “oh, uh, no” response.

I’m kind of sad I’ve never gotten the “do you wear shoes.” I feel as though until I do then I’m not a true Kentuckian.

I’m kind of sad I’ve never gotten the “do you wear shoes.” I feel as though until I do then I’m not a true Kentuckian.

There is one, and ONLY one definition of a true Kentuckian.

Kentuckian = One who slavishly follows the Wildcats. At least three wardrobe items must feature the Wildcat logo. All events must be scheduled around games. Bonus points are given for buying a Wildcat blue car (like my BIL just did).

Kentuckian = One who slavishly follows the Wildcats.

Ahemmm…she did say she went to school in Louisville.  Not that that means anything…I’m just saying…

Although, in all honesty, I was born and raised in Lexington and graduated from UK and I have one UK hat.  I only bought that because I was standing in line and I was burning to a pile of cinders, as I typically do being a redhead, and needed something to shade my face.  It falls to my husband to wear all things Wildcat Blue, I’m afraid.

I’m not an author, but the funniest romance novel conversation I ever had went like this..

(male visitor seeing my overloaded bookshelves and rubbermaid boxes full of books)  ” how can you read so many of those books? They can’t be THAT good”

(me offended) “Yes they ARE that good! Have you ever read a romance novel?”

(him with twinkle in his eyes)” NO WAY! those are for bored fat housewives with nothing better to do” (yeah I’m fat)

(me with evil plot in my mind) ” Hmph..Are you literate enough to read one if I picked out a good example of a romance novel?”

“ME? Literate? I’ll have you know I.. (blahblahblah boring books he’s read)

(Me , putting evil plot in motion) “Take this one..let me know what you think”

I handed him (upside down)MJ Pearson’s “The Price of Temptation”.. he stuck it in his jacket pocket without looking at the title..said snobbishly ” I’ll give it a shot but don’t count on me being able to finish it”

2 hours after he leaves the house I get a phone call…...

” OH MY GOD!! That’s a GAY ROMANCE? you read GAY ROMANCE? The dudes crotch is HUGE! I mwan REALLY!! I want to tell on you to someone!! What’s your mothers phone number??”(he was screeching like a girl at this point)!

(evil plot complete,I’m laughing my ass off on phone so bad I almost passed out)

You get the idea, the phone call was 30 minutes of me laughing and snorting and him threatening to burn the book.

It’s actually a pretty good regency romance.

To this day he’s never admitted to reading it all and to this day I still haven’t got the book back. And when he visits, he never asks about my book stash, actually he avoids looking at the bookshelves at all LOL.

ah the revenge of fat bored housewives. It IS sweet.

At least three wardrobe items must feature the Wildcat logo

Nuts. I used to have all kinds of t-shirts but they’re ancient. I do, however, have a 24 carat gold UK necklace. I think this might make up for the lack of recent clothing.

And I did go to school in Louisville, but I’ve been a UK fan since birth. I only root for UofL when UK isn’t playing.

My parents are from Ireland and have lived in the U.S. for 50 years. When I was in grammar school (Catholic of course) every day after lunch recess we would say the rosary before starting afternoon studies.  We could ask the class to say special prayers for a family member who was sick, etc. One day I asked for a special prayer for my grandfather who was sick in Ireland. The nun asked me “Where is Ireland? Mind you, the nun and her order were from Spain!!

I was in Ireland last spring and when I came back to work I was telling some colleagues about my trip. One person asked “Is it safe to travel there? Isn’t there a war going on between Catholics and Protestants?” I was so dumbfounded by the question I didn’t have a snappy comeback!

A friend and I were on the phone discussing how I always seem to be reading, I explained I read a variety of books (paranormal, suspense, mystery, historical) she asked which aisle I go down first when I get inside the book store. I immediately without hesitation said the Romance aisle.

There was a brief pause. Then she asked what the next aisle would be. I was like “Um, I just go down that one.” She seemed confused, asking “But I thought you read different types of books?”

I had to explain to her that while romance is the main element in all the books I read, there are many different types of back stories, plots and so on that an author can use to tell their story. Enough to keep me busy reading at least.

Okay, once I asked the rude question. I worked with two recent hires who came complete with BA’s in English. I jokingly quoted Macbeth. Dead silence, crickets chirping. Mocking myself I threatened to quote other biggies: Chaucer, Tennyson, etc.- nothing.

I explain my original quote. They respond that they had never read Shakespeare and had never heard of the others.

Me:(rudely) “You have a degree in English and you have never read any Shakespeare?”

Newbie 1: (offended) “None. I read Patterson, though.

Newbie 2: “Yeah, he rocks.”

Me: “Who?”

Them: “Oh my God! You have a degree in English and you’ve never read Patterson?”

I couldn’t apologize, I was laughing too hard.

They never read Shakespeare? What the hell college did they go to? I had to read Shakespeare in high school.

I’m french and when I was in Vancouver some years ago I was asked several times if french people really french-kiss to say hello. Yeah that’s what we do, every morning we just give one another big open-mouthed kisses with tongue and all ! riiigth !

//men don’t seem to be nearly as bothered by my appearance as some women evidently are.//

Possibly envy.  I love looking at high heels and cute skirts, but honestly I can’t be bothered.  Heels hurt and skirts are cold.  If I felt obliged to wear them (as some women do) I’d feel horribly envious of someone who didn’t.

I had the ‘interesting’ experience of a fair amount of media interest last year after I won the Golden Heart. (Australian media loves it when a local does well internationally. Not that we’re parochial, or anything like that :-) ) I think I did about a dozen live radio interviews, as well as other interviews for print media. The media release that my university sent out mentioned my research as well as my writing, so there were questions about both and the genre in general.

Most of the interviewers were pretty good - the usual comments about romance, but light-hearted rather than snarky. One guy did start with a bit of an edge, but I just prefaced my response with a comment along the lines of “a great many of your listeners will be romance readers, so they’ll be aware that…” After that he dropped the edge, presumably not wanting to offend too many of his audience!

The question I was most unprepared for came during an evening radio interview, in which the interviewer assumed I was an expert on romance itself, and asked me to give advice for those who might want to do something romantic for their partners. If that town’s chocolate, florist and jewelry industries had a downturn, it’s probably my fault, because I’m pretty sure I said something about not doing the ordinary, predictable things but rather to find, say or do something that is special to the person, and that small, genuine gestures counted more than grand things.

She also asked if the hero in the novel was my husband.

There are a couple of rude questions posed to me over the years that have to do with my size. I am very thin, naturally. I couldn’t gain weight if the world depended on it. So, I’ve received the, “Are you aneroxic?”, “Are you belimic?” questions from strangers on the street. If I had a dollar every time someone asked me that, I’d be able to open my bookstore (life goal). That’s pretty rude but the worst was this older woman who walked by me while I was smoking a cigarette. She did a triple take, backed up, and asked me if I needed her food stamps. I smiled, thanked her for the offer, but told her I was fine. Now, I’m pretty sure she meant well, but what I have never understood is why being thin is an excuse to ask me really personal questions, from complete strangers….

Most people don’t question my reading material.

On the other hand the most offensive question I’ve had was “Does your husband approve of you driving a truck?”

I don’t wear a wedding ring and I hadn’t mentioned a husband.  The guy assumed I was married, assumed I was straight and assumed my husband would have any say, let alone veto power, over my career choice.

(FTR, I am married.  I am not straight. And my husband totally approves of anything legal that brings in $450/week+has good insurance.)

I said “I make twice as much as I did being a librarian. He has nothing to say about it.”

He shut up.

A reporter once asked me if I had to translate my own books when they sold to foreign publishers.  It took all my self control not to say, ‘Sure, but I can’t sell into China, yet, because I need to work a bit more on my Mandarin…’

q: Are you uniquely skilled in the bedroom?

a: Why yes, I can make hospital corners.

When an annoying and pushy person on a plane asks what I’m reading I tell them gay vampire porn.

Lone…
I love you and want to bear your internet babies.

Jen- I understand about the tipis- I used to work at the State museum of History in OKC- I could overlook most of the odd comments made by international visitors, but the ones that always made my mouth hang open were the ones from folks in the US- it was really bad after the Murrah Buiding was bombed- we would get all these people in saying things like “I was surprised to see buildings on tv” and “Where do you park your horse?” But I think on of my favorites was the little old lady who said that she traveled to OK after seeing all the bombing coverage, “I thought I’d try something new since I saw you had real plumbing here.”

I was questioned on my reading material in a very odd way this week…

I work at a wildlife preserve, with, you know, people who like themselves some wildlife, and one of my coworkers starts telling us all how he heard “A very weird story” this week. It seems that someone wrote an article about black-footed ferrets, which some trashy romance novelist plagiarized. There’s a story about a Native American hunk, and he gets freaky with a lady, and they start talking about FERRETS in the most awkward and clunky way, and it turns out the whole passage was ripped off from a legitimate non-fiction article about the ferrets! Oh! Everyone is appropriately amused and scandalized, and I provide additional details, which causes my coworkers to wonder how I know the story. So I confess that I’m a regular reader of the blog that broke the story. “What blog?” “Uh… it’s called… uh… Smart Bitches Trashy Books.”

Howls of laughter followed, during which I just kept saying “GUYS IT’S A REALLY GOOD BLOG!”

Defendin’ the Bitchery, I am!

(Also I made sure to point out how much money The Bitchery and NR raised for the ferrets. This met with great approval.)

Brianna - as a fellow redhead, been there with that question many times. First time was Freshman year of high school in art class…and my naive self had no clue what those stoner dudes were talking about (I finally figured it out by the way they were leering at my crotch.) There’s an awesome poem about this, but I can’t seem to find it.

One of my all time faves (also from high school, working a cashier job)
“How much is the 10 cent candy?”

My all-time favorite came from my (former) RWA chapter.  I’d just had my 10th (I think) ebook published and was about to have it come out in print.  When I told the chapter about this, one of the chapter officers said, “Oh, I’m so glad you’re finally going to be published for real!”

I think the most random/offensive quesion I’ve ever received was when I was about 16, sitting on the ground outside a restaurant. I’d just had a disagreement with my mother, and she’d told me to wait outside while she paid for dinner. There weren’t any seats nearby, and I couldn’t lean on the car because we had a car alarm and my mother still had the car keys. So I sat on the ground - it seemed perfectly logical at the time.

A couple in their fifties or sixties walked past me and after whispering to each other for a minute, the man approached me and asked:

“Are you homeless?”

I was so shocked I couldn’t even respond, I just stared at him. If my mother hadn’t appeared telling me to get in the car I don’t know what I would have said, but I imagine it would have involved the words “fuck” and “you” in various and interesting arrangements.

I also get the “why do you read that trash?” from my mother about my reading habits. It’s only become worse in the last few months since I got my PhD, because now she says “I don’t understand why you rot your brain reading that trash. You have a PhD! Why don’t you read something intellectual and challenging?” I don’t tell her that if I thought there was any way I could do research on romance novels and make it relevant in a school of IT, I would be all over it.

I work in a library and the weirdest question I get asked (and I’ve had this one a few times) is when I answer the phone, and people ask me, “Are you open?” I keep wanting to reply, “No, they pay me to stand here for my health.” or “No, I’m just the answering service.”

But I also had someone ask me, “Do you have books there?” Gee, no, we’re the library completely without books. Yessiree, the latest thing!

Recently, a co-worker of mine was approached by a woman who asked, “Do you have bathrooms in here?” to which she wanted to say, “No, you are just going to have to hold it.”, but instead, she nicely pointed out where the bathrooms were located.

Our library also has huge signs hanging from the ceiling pointing out the information (reference) desk, the circ (circulation) desk, Returns, where the copiers are, etc.

Yet, I have people come up to the circulation desk, wait behind people checking out, only to ask me, “Can I take out books here?” And I usually say (in a humorous tone of voice), “Heavens, no! What do you think we are? A *library* or something?”

We also had large, printed signs on our internet computers telling people they could not download stuff from the internet onto the internet computers. Yet, invariably, someone would come up and say, “This computer isn’t letting me download this file.”

Sometimes, I think that if the message was flashing in lights 20 feet high, people still wouldn’t get it.

Spinster Witch and Gemma-

I’ve got to say, go easy on those of us who don’t understand the intricacies of vegetarianism! My best friend is a vegetarian, and it took me about three months to consistently remember what she wouldn’t eat. I know red-meat vegetarians, fish-eating vegetarians, no-animal vegetarians, and vegans, (and yes I know they have proper names, but I don’t know the proper names.) It gets confusing, and so I constantly had to be reminded what exactly she ate. She finally clarified, “I don’t eat any member of the animal kingdom,” and I got it permanently, I hope.

It’s hard to remember everyone’s eating habits!

That’s all.

And since this is a dumb questions board, I’ve got one. I’m from the suburbs of New York City, and I went to summer camp in California when I was about eleven or twelve. Most of the kids were locals, and when they found out I was from New York, they’d always say, “But you don’t have a New York accent!” I was baffled, because I didn’t know anyone with an accent.

To be fair, though, they were kids, too, not legit interviewers who are supposed to not be lunkheads.

Let’s see:  Geographically (I’m from Alabama) I get a lot of similar questions to those poor souls from Kentucky.  Yes, we wear shoes.  Yes, we have indoor plumbing and electricity.  Sadly, I am related to myself (about 5-6 generations back).  The best one, though ...
“Are people in Alabama nice?”
“Ummmm ... sure.”
“Wanna show me how nice they are?” (complete with leer)
“I’m from New Jersey.  F*ck off.” *yes, I lied.  Bite me.

As regards to my career:
“Can you do my taxes/balance my checkbook/etc.?”
**I teach college math.  I am not an accountant.  Have never taken an accounting class in any way shape or form.

My favorite with respect to my reading habits occurs when someone (who doesn’t know me very well) comes into my home and looks at the enormous wall-sized bookshelf.  Categorized by genre and author, two books deep. 
“I’ll bet I can tell which books are yours and which are your husband’s”.
...Oh, do tell.
After a few moments of our guest pointing out the sections which are ‘mine’ (romance, Mary Higgins Clark, etc.) and which are ‘his’ (sci-fi, espionage, military, etc.), my husband cheerfully informs them that ALL of the books are mine.  And then points to the small stack of Star Trek/Star Wars novellas ... those are his. 

So Nyah. 

Of course, second place goes to the student who felt the need to comment on my choice of reading material during the final (LKH, I must admit, so he may have had a point) and compared it to the Robert Jordan he was reading ... Book 1.  It was terribly rude of me, but I’m afraid I rather spoiled the next few books for him.  Oops.

I love this!  I live in Portland, Oregon.  A relatively big city, mind you.  However, you would not believe how many people from other states (usually east of the Mississippi) think we’re a bunch of hicks.  I’ve been asked if we all wear denim & plaid.  When I explain that we are RIGHT NEXT TO CALIFORNIA & THAT SEATTLE IS TO THE NORTH, they usually shut up.

I’m also tall 6’1” and a BBW.  I don’t get much comments on my weight, but I do get comments on my height ALL the time.  It’s either “Do you play basketball?” or “You must have legs that go on forever!”

As for the romance thing, I had this elderly lady sit down next to me on the bus once.  I was reading a Nora Roberts book and she made this disparaging noise.  And this is what she said. 

“I don’t know about you youngsters & that romance trash you read.  I’m amazed any of you have brains at all.”  With that, she whipped out a Danielle Steele book and it took everything in me not to bust a gut laughing.  La Nora trash?  LOL!  I think that was the pot calling the kettle black.

And I write romances.  I had a question once about how much “research” I did when it came to writing the love scenes.  Completely deadpan I said “I’m a virgin.  It’s all in the imagination.”  (true, by the by)  Shut them up right quick.  LOL!

“Is it true that Asian women are uniquely skilled in the bedroom?”

Marjorie, you should have answered, “I don’t know.  I’ve never slept with one.  Have you?”

Nora, with all your skills and money, why are you wasting your time writing books and saving ferrets?  Get out there and catch Osama bin Laden!  It’s what you’ve been training for all your life, obviously.

Talking to a teenager about Judaism, I mentioned that Jews don’t eat pork. Her response:
“Really?”
“...Yes.”
“But…what do they eat for Thanksgiving?”
“Uh…turkey?” *trying not to laugh*
“Oh.” *long pause* “But…what do they eat for Christmas?”
I couldn’t answer for laughing, someone else had to explain that Jews don’t usually celebrate Christmas.

Defending on my home state here:

When I moved to North Carolina from California (at the height of Beverly Hills 90210 popularity no less), I got the biggest variety of moron questions ever conceived including things like “Do you guys all drive corvettes?”  “How come you don’t have an accent?” (because we don’t all talk like 80s valley girls?), “You know that California is going to have an earthquake and fall into the ocean?”, “Doesn’t San Francisco have a lot of gay people?” “Do you surf a lot?”

So it’s not just the southerners taking the bad rap.

My favorite lately wins for frequency and gender-typing:

“So, what do you do?”
“I’m attending medical school in the Caribbean.”
“Oh!  You’re going to be a nurse!”

Heard that one about seventy billion times.  Since most people are well-intentioned, I have managed to not say: “Yeah! I was gonna be a doctor, but then remembered I have ovaries!  Silly me!”

I couldn’t stay away from this thread, which is hillarious.

I live in Kansas, so I feel for the bitches in Oklahoma. Only nobody has ever asked me about shoes or indoor plumbing. They ask me if we get tornadoes, and invariably someone brings up Dorothy.

For the record, yes, we get tornadoes. No, none have taken me to Oz. This still makes me sad, even though I’m a grown adult.

As to my reading, the only time I’ve ever been criticized for my reading tastes was by a friend who again stated that I was smart and should find books that were challenges. Of course, she reads murder mysteries, so she has no room to talk. But I think I’ve managed to shut her up after helping her with the morning crossword a time or two because I’ve known some word thanks to a romance novel.

That all being said, I did lie to my professor once last semester about what I was reading—the blindness means nobody else can understand what I’m reading. He shared my commute home on the bus and asked me and I sort of blushed and told him it was a murder mystery. (It was a J. D. Robb, incidentally.) I wish I’d thought to come back with something like, “Gay porn!” Because it was the end of the semester and it wasn’t like I was likely to run into him again. But at the time I don’t think I was necessarily ashamed I was reading a romance. I just was slightly embarrassed because I had it in my head that my professor would expect me to be doing class readings or something.

Aw man, this is my favorite Japan story:

So I’m an English teacher here, and I get a million and one rude questions that people think they can get away with because I’m foreign. The mayor even asked my breast size (I responded quite rudely, myself). The best, though, was when I was making rice cakes at a kindergarten.

The entire class was seated around the room facing me as I pounded a big, long, wooden hammer into rice in a stone bowl, while a reporter was taking pictures. Then the reporter says to me, in mixed Japanese and English, “When your boyfriend visits soon, he will be the hammer, and you will be the bowl.”

I had had enough of these kind of comments, from the mayor, from my principal, from my coworkers, and so I turned around and slugged him.

At a kindergarten. Surrounded by small children. I punched a reporter. I was too pissed to be sorry at the time, but later I was starting to feel kind of irresponsible, and then one of the teachers took me aside and said “I know that man. He has nothing but thoughts like that in his mind. He needed a punch.”

Made my day.

Holy crap! Elizabeth, can I shake your hand, ‘cause that is the best thing I’ve heard all day!

Oh by the by, I get the hair comments too. I used to have hair past my hips (my mom’s is to her knees) and all the time, people would tell me I should donate it.

“Oh sure,” I’d say, “That sounds great. How about you spend ten years growing yours, and then we can donate it together?”

Now, of course, my hair is about 1.5 inches long, and I get people telling me girls should have long hair.

I usually respond with “And I think men should attractive, but I didn’t complain about you,” or “yeah, because I’m interested in dating assholes like you enough to grow it back out” or the even less polite, “It’s not my fault you’re too stupid to know boys don’t have tits. I shouldn’t have to put up a fucking flag to let you know which I am.”

I’m… uh… People don’t take me out in public much. I’m not very nice.

*shakes Brianna’s hand*

Do you know, my little sister’s name is Briana.

Now, of course, my hair is about 1.5 inches long, and I get people telling me girls should have long hair.

When I went from long hair to very short hair, all the women where I worked loved it because short hair does look so much better on me.  All the male co-workers and male customers commented long and loud as if I’d cut off a boob or something.  “Your hair!  What did you do to your hair?!”  I started just giving some variation of: “Oh, I know!  I woke up this morning and IT WAS JUST GONE!” 

I’m… uh… People don’t take me out in public much. I’m not very nice.

Yeah, but you’re funny.

I was talking to my Sister about this post and she had a good one.
She’s a Midwife. And when people ask her what she does she tells them I’m a midwife…
This one woman said: Oh no I meant what do you do for a living.
She replyed, real slow and with small words. I’m. A. Midwife. People. Pay. Me. To. Help. Deliver. Their. Babies.

Still trying to wrap my mind around how this woman thought delivering babies was a hobby.

When I left SC to go to college in MA, someone asked me if we had cable down there. I replied that we’d just gotten it but that the pigs tearing up the wires in the yard.

[Grinning with wicked glee into my mocha]

Elizabeth - I *loved* that, thanks for sharing it!  I love the smell of Karma in the morning,...

But, these nosy peeps, srsly,... argh.

Isn’t it wonderful that total strangers - who’ve yet to get their own shit together - are so at ease in instructing others how to present themselves?

Third part expectations make me crazy.

I live in New Mexico & it’s amazing how many people don’t know it’s a state.  Typical questions: “Do you need a passport?”  “Does everyone speak English?” When the Olympics were in Atlanta, people were told from here that they had to go through the international office to get tickets to the games. *sigh* When I point out that NM is the state between Texas & Arizona I get a lot of blank stares.