Angie, Wendy and Karen post about condom usage in romance novels.
One of the primary concerns seems to be birth control. And yeah, condoms are pretty effective (but not as effective as you think—they’re only a few percentage points more effective than coitus interruptus). My big question is, if birth control is such a big deal, why aren’t more romance novel heroines on the Pill?
I mean, even when I wasn’t dating (I made a conscious decision a few years back to not date or have sex for a whole year) I still took my pill religiously. Why aren’t romance novel heroines? It’s a hell of a lot more effective than condoms, not as intrusive as IUDs, and doesn’t require surgery.
I would never rely on condoms as a sole means of birth control, given its relatively high failure rate, and I wouldn’t expect my fiction to reflect that either.
Yes, there are side-effects to the pill. Some of them aren’t pleasant. Some of them are so severe that some women can never go on them Pill. I have a friend like that. She just becomes a puke factory, no matter what brand and dosage level she tried. But the birth control pill is a non-entity in romance novels. It’s not even mentioned.
Condoms are much more useful for disease prevention, though it does shit-all for herpes and human papillomavirus, the virus that causes genital warts. For that reason alone, I like it better when the hero/heroine in a contemporary use a jimmy hat, especially if the two of them end up joggling their nasties within days of meeting each other (*koff*Linda Howard*koffkoff*). However, I’m especially irritated if the hero forgets to use a condom and the heroine decides that barebacking is a sign of TRUE LURVE® (*koff*Dream Man*koffkoff*) instead of a sign that they should both get tested ASAP.
I do wish that contemporaries featured heroines who used BC methods other than rubbers, though. Or would that make ‘em too slutty?
Anyway, in a sort-of related note, I picked up Hot Spot by Susan Johnson from the library on Friday, and returned it on Sunday, largely unread. I’ve read a few of her historicals and didn’t particularly care for them, but I had hopes for Hot Spot because:
1. The heroine owns a comic book store.
2. I always thought Johnson’s short, choppy sentences and modern voice would be much more suited for a contemporary.
I was browsing through it casually while eating dinner, and I found annoyance number 1 very early on: Johnson uses the word “cuz” instead of “because” fairly frequently—not within dialogue, mind you, but within the narration. Now, I have no problems with a character using the word “cuz” as a contraction. When the narrator does, though, it’s irritating as hell and makes the book sound like it was written by a 15-year-old girl.
Annoyance number 2: Found a sex scene fairly soon (oh, c’mon, what do you THINK I was browsing for?). And seriously? Two paragraphs, if that, from the time the hero inserts his Magical Wonderflesh and the heroine coming so hard she screams the house down.
And every sex scene is that way. He inserts, he pumps, she comes, she screams. All in one paragraph or two. Her hair trigger is envious, but also exhausting to read about. There may be some bantering and/or foreplay, but these remained pretty minimal as well. At any rate, the sex scenes were so short (albeit plentiful), I wondered why Johnson included them at all. Quality, not quantity, people! Unless you’re Emma Holly, in which case the two go hand in hand.
And then there was annoyance number 3: The short, choppy sentences. Very distracting to read. They’re the same length, too. Also, they’re usually punctuated similarly. Makes for monotonous reading. Kind of like this paragraph.
So all three annoyances put together meant I didn’t even bother with Hot Spot, despite the interesting premise and heroine. I’m so glad I checked it out from the library.
Every time I read about a heroine on the Pill it’s written like this:
“Oh studly muffin hero – I want you to bang me so bad!!!!”
“But sweetness – we don’t have condoms!!!!”
“That’s OK – I’m on the Pill, but I only went on a few years ago to regulate my cycle.”
It’s ALWAYS to regulate their cycle. The heroine can NEVER be on the Pill for it’s primary purpose – which is BC.
Rant over 😉
I agree (already posted on Angie’s blog about this). I think it is important for contemporaries that the issue is addressed in some way. It doesn’t mean there should be a big afternoon special conversation about it, something as subtle as the ripping of a foil packet, or fumbling can say it all. If the h/h jump into bed fairly quickly (and in most erotic romance it IS fairly quickly) I think it is especially important to address this.
I find myself respecting the hero (and heroine more) if they use condoms and then later—not in the heat of the moment—they address the issue of other birth control options. Oftentimes the heroine will *be* on the pill, but because she ain’t a complete idiot, will also want a condom to be used at first boink.
As I mentioned on Angie’s blog, I think my loathing for irresponsible adults (when it comes to birth control) is why I hate HATE hate *foaming at the mouth* the vast majority of secret baby books. Okay. Lemme get this straight. You are a 28 year old, well-respected school marm and you 1) had wild munkee sex without any sort of birth control with the town bad boy. 2) got knocked up and 3) decided you would solve the prob by disappearing for three years until “little jakie” is two and a half and the spittin’ image of “big Jake Cantrell”.
*gougeeyeballs*
lol I wish they’d just do something like having her head to the bathroom to take her pill or something. Or hey..have her take the shot and just mention, don’t worry, we’re covered.
I just do want SOMETHING mentioned and maybe a bit more creatively.
Hahahahaha! Good heavens, of course it was to regulate her period. She ain’t no whore. Personally, I’ve NEVER seen the Pill mentioned. Which probably means I don’t read many contemporaries.
And by the way, wanna know something funny? The reason why I’m so religious about the pill is not only because I don’t want to be pregnant, but because I was diagnosed with dysmenorrhea when I was 19, after 7 years of having the following menstrual cycle: 1 year of no period whatsoever, followed by 1-2 months of heavy bleeding. Anyway, your comment really hit my funny bone. I’m a romance novel heroine and I didn’t know it! But regardless, I’d use the Pill even if I didn’t have dysmenorrhea.
Oh, hey, here’s a question: anyone ever read a romance novel in which the hero has had a vasectomy?
Condoms may not be perfect, but they’re a hell of a lot better than nothing at all, and when I see contemporary romance heroes & heroines have unprotected sex it drives me frickin’ crazy. I used to work in a drug treatment center doing education and prevention, which had a way of drifting into all “at-risk” behaviors, including unprotected sex. Do you have any idea how hard it was to get across to girls that carrying condoms does not mean you’re a skank, it means you’re responsible and intelligent? All too often they’d let themselves get carried away by “luuurve”, usually after a few too many beers, and dang if they didn’t sometimes end up with unexpected medical problems—or a kid.
You’ve touched on one of my favorite rants. Screw the secret baby storyline, I want to see more adults engaging in _responsible_ behavior!
Hmmm… nope, can’t say that I have. I think the whole vasectomy thing would seem to imply that the hero is ooooold. And lord knows, even when he is in his late-40’s we would never not want to imply that the hero is *roawwr* virile. His little swimmers still work, by gawd. And to prove it he is usually presenting his mid-twenties age kids with a new little bro or sis with his new wifey by the epilogue of the book.
Case in point, Men in Kilts by Katie Maxwell.
Do you have any idea how hard it was to get across to girls that carrying condoms does not mean you’re a skank, it means you’re responsible and intelligent?
Exactly. Here’s where I think there’s a BIG disconnect with people: For some reason, some people think that knowing about birth control methods and being prepared means we’re ready to slut it up and fuck any takers. That’s about as logical as thinking that a driver with an emergency roadside kit and a spare tire in her trunk is planning on getting into as many accidents and driving over as many sharp nails as she can.
It pays to be prepared.
Hmm, I remember Linda Howard having the heroine go on the pill as BC in DUNCAN’S BRIDE (a contemporary mail-order bride book), but I’m pulling up short beyond that for now.
I’m with Nicole and the rest—if it’s a contemporary, and there is no mention of BCs, it becomes a part of the characterization of the h/h. (usually stupid, reckless, stupid) The secret baby plot…if it resulted from a BC failure, it’d be interesting, and slightly less insulting to the ol’ intelligence.
I’m sure there have been romances out there with infertility, vasectomies/reversed vasectomies, and whatnot, but I can’t think of any that are 1) memorable and 2) in any top/favorite category. It might be because it’s hell on the traditional HEA of go forth and multiply (get married, children, grandchildren, dynasty).
I think the whole vasectomy thing would seem to imply that the hero is ooooold.
I guess so. I know a couple of young guys (one in his late 20s, one in his mid 30s) who got snipped because they already had all the kids they could handle and didn’t want more. If (knock on wood) they divorced or if their wives died—well, snipped is snipped.
It’d be interesting too to encounter a hero who KNOWS he doesn’t want kids, ever, and just got the procedure done voluntarily at a young age.
Candy:
I tend to see the Pill mentioned in “certain” types of contemporaries – Brava titles, romantica in general – but rarely in a basic contemporary. But it’s always written like the scenario I mentioned above.
I agree that women do take the Pill for other benefits besides BC (heck, I know I do!) – but it tends to annoy me that romance heroines need to justify their sexual history.
That’s probably why I like erotica so much – the heroines are allowed to enjoy sex prior to meeting the hero and don’t apologize for it 😉
The first Blaze I read, Nancy Warren’s Breathless had the heroine on the pill, without any justification. I didn’t realize at the time that this was relatively rare in romanceland.
Now, I wasn’t totally convinced by the h and H in that book just telling each other they were clean, but I figured that at least they addressed the issue.
I think the pill would work better for people who knew each other fairly well, something like a friends to lovers storyline.
Funny thing is, I’ll assume the heroine is on bc, unless told otherwise. And I don’t give a flip why she’s on the pill (big ho, or regulating her flo) But whether or not she’s on the pill, I do want to see some passing mention of a condom, because, while I’d like to think of my H/h STD-free, neither of them knows that for a fact.
*It’d be interesting too to encounter a hero who KNOWS he doesn’t want kids, ever, and just got the procedure done voluntarily at a young age.*
I know I read one of these once, ages ago, but can’t think of its name (obviously, it fell into the category of ‘unmemorable’). The guy had it done because he found out he was the carrier for some terrible inheritable disease and, as he was destined to get said disease himself some day, he didn’t want to pass the trait on.
But as for a story that included a man getting a vasectomy for the pure and simple reason of not wanting kids for no other reason than he didn’t want kids: never seen it. That’s kind of frightening, really, considering how many of these damned books I’ve read over the years.
Oh, and don’t EVEN get me started on the secret baby thing. Stoopid freaking plot device – who buys a woman in this day and age being so naive as to not do anything at all to protect herself? I have seen a few books where there’s discussion about condom breakage, though, so yay for that.
When I see the H/H using condoms, I don’t think birth control, I think disease. The first time you have sex with somebody, either you have the long boring talk complete with test results, or you grab a condom. In fiction, I prefer the condom.
Back in the cheerful ‘70s, the only incurable disease we had to worry about was herpes. Times have changed.
I had condom use in a book and that wasn’t enough. For EC I had to put in a line or two about ‘afterwards’ as in what did he do with the used condom? Jeez. Why not write about the wet spot? Or serious beard rash?
here’s a sad story about the condom disposal problem you won’t find this in a romance novel. maybe chicklit though. . . http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/bos/77219646.html
and this one has nothing to do with the subject (nuts, perhaps) but I like it.
http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/wdc/76478516.html
Oh I recently read a romance by Shelly Laurenston who writes kick-ass, crass, unconventional heroines and in “Pack Challenge” both the hero & heroine went and got themselves neutered (so to speak). Neither one of them were interested in being fruitful so that they could replenish the author. It was pleasantly startling.
I’ve seen “Hot Spot” around the bookstore but since Susan Johnson hasn’t written (what I consider to be) a good romance novel in years and the price was ridiculously high for such a thin book (Canadian ya know) I passed. Good to know I wasn’t missing out on anything much.
Kate: HOLY. FUCKING. SHIT.
The hero in Vicki Lewis Thompson’s “Be Mine, Valentine” has a vasectomy (before the book takes place). I believe he fell into the “young guy with enough kids” category. There’s some talk between the H/H of getting the operation reversed, IIRC, but we don’t find out if they do.
An annoying trend that pops out to me, in relation to taking BC pills to regulate cycles, is when we suddenly find out that the character is taking BC pills not because she’s selfish enough to want to know when her periods will be or not have the Flood from Hell, but because they were prescribed for previously unmentioned (and never again mentioned) endometriosis. I think it’s another way of making the heroine ‘good’. After all, regulating your cycle is a choice. Endo just happens.
But of course, the pills work perfectly and there’s never any other problems with the endometriosis and when the heroine recounts her tortured youth she never thinks to mention the agony of what happened until she got those wonder pills …
I used to work at a Girl Scout camp, and one of my jobs was to assist the nurse. We had to have records of what medicine everyone was taking. Since the staff was mainly college-age women, a lot of that medicine was BC pills, and nearly to a person, they would feel obligated to explain that they were taking them to regulate their cycle. We didn’t ask why anyone was taking anything, or make them justify it, and nobody ever felt they had to explain any other drugs. So perhaps all these romance heroines are just telling little white lies to themselves, like we figured the staff were doing. I suppose as long as the pill is taken, it doesn’t matter why the heroine tells herself she takes it. (I *hate* the secret baby plot. Hate hate hate.)
Kate – funny, I thought of that same thing re: the condoms. But the squirrel thing, that was new to me. Hilarious AND cute.
Wrt secret baby books, my impression, though my reading isn’t exhaustive, is that they have moved, like the rest of romance, towards safe sex, and most of the babies are the result of failed birth control. Like my current read, Susan Andersen’s Hot & Bothered.
Not that anyone has to like secret baby books.
anyone ever read a romance novel in which the hero has had a vasectomy?
Yes, thrice. One is Vicki Lewis Thompson’s book [the one mentioned above], one is a Joan Johnston book [Zack?] and one is a Loveswept by an author whose name I forget. Last two deal with failed vasectomies and accidental pregnancies, though. Yup, misunderstandings, accusations and suspicions rule the world in those two books.
I recently read LaVyrle Spencer’s Spring Fancy, written in 1984 (it was the first Harlequin Temptation), and the heroine is on the pill. It was interesting the way Spencer introduced it, too; the hero was in the heroine’s bedroom (way before they had sex) and he sees the pill pack on her dresser. Just a casual mention but we know she’s protected (at least in that way—no condoms, I guess b/c they weren’t popular in Romance then??). Anyway, I thought it was an effective way to handle the bc thing without making a big deal out of it. But the whole Harlequin Temptation line is introduced as “new compelling stories of passionate romance for today’s woman,” so it definitely seemed a mark of the heroine’s sexual liberation (along with her athletic build and interests and the fact that she cheats on her fiance with the hero, whom she meets while she’s planning her wedding). I wonder if Romance authors still view the pill as some kind of social or political statement they’re unwilling to make. I wonder if many of them would introduce condoms if it weren’t for AIDS and perhaps some community pressure to be overtly responsible in that way.
Also, I thought that the failure rate of condoms was generally due to incorrect use. True or not, anyone know? I wonder if the rates of failure have increased since abstinence-only education has become the single federally-funded style of sex ed.
I don’t think because the book doesn’t spell out that the herione is on the pill that it means she isn’t. We don’t know that she uses toilet paper either—but I assume most do. I think the condom part is for potential disease control not birth control, and in this world it is the smart thing to do if you don’t know the other person really well. Which in most contemporary romance novels they don’t—at least not at the time of the first sex scene.
Lori
Candy asks: Oh, hey, here’s a question: anyone ever read a romance novel in which the hero has had a vasectomy?
Linda Howard, for all her barebacking = love. She seems to be getting better about it in her latest books. The hero in Kiss Me While I Sleep had had a vasectomy after having kids too young and realizing he wasn’t particularly suited to fatherhood.
And Milla, from Cry No More, used a birth control patch, though the rationale might have been that she did it because her job took her into some dangerous situations and she wanted to be prepared in case she was attacked.
A few years ago I read Lisa Cach’s Dating Without Novocaine. There was one scene in it where the heroine was about to have sex with a guy and he didn’t want to use a condom. She told him absolutely under no circumstances was she having sex with him unless he was wearing one. Unbeknownest to him the heroine had also dosed herself with spermicide (two doses I believe for extra protection). It was a good thing too, because as soon as he turned her around to go into the doggie style position he removed the condom. The extra spermicide was a big ol’ shock to him and caused him quite a bit of discomfort.
Is it okay for an author to put in her five cents? (I’ve been lurking around for a long time, doing a lot of laughing, so thanks! This is a great site.)
The condoms in contemps are pretty much “required” (yes, some editors will ask for them if you and your H&H forget!) to cover the STD thing, and sometimes they do require extra creativity on the writer’s part. I had a discussion with my editor on one book because my couple wasn’t prepared, and she didn’t like the scenario I’d set up so they’d have a condom on hand, so we had to come up with something else.
I try my best to do different slants on the “standards.” I don’t like doing the same old, same old any more than readers like reading it. (I was a reader first, and that’s what’s important to me. But I also know I won’t make everyone happy, so I have to make myself happy with the writing first and foremost.)
I wrote a secret baby story where the secret was it wasn’t the heroine’s baby – but everyone in town knew she showed up pregnant and gave birth in town. (In fact, Candy, I had thought about sending you a copy to see if it might be a secret baby book you could actually tolerate but…I was sort of scared of you.
)
In my new book, The Pregnancy Test (my tagline – sometimes life tests a man.
) the heroine is using the birth control patch, they have a quickie on-scene discussion about STD’s, but as you can guess from the title, she does end up with birth control failure. (And again, I think/hope I came up with a creative reason for that failure.) LOL – Although I did feel the need to make sure readers understood that this heroine isn’t a slut.
(I didn’t say why she was using a birth control patch – I don’t think – but this woman is a huge flirt and attracts men very easily. But I felt the need to make sure readers knew she didn’t sleep with ALL of them. LOL. And probably, if I hadn’t made that clear in the first submission, my editors would have wanted it clarified. “Susan, make sure she doesn’t come across as a slut!”
)
I had asked the more erotic writers recently on a writers list if they make sure to include the condom, and most of them said yes. I was wondering about the fact that readers know that this is a fantasy, so why interupt the fantasy with a dose of reality? Are our books entertainment, or instructional books? Now, I write with some heavy social issues and as realistically as I can, so I don’t mind putting in responsibility – but I’m talking about in the very erotic books.
Often romance readers get “slapped” by the public like we can’t tell fantasy from reality. Like we think this is going to happen in “real life,” that Mr. Wonderful will sweep us off our feet, take care of us for the rest of our lives, yada, yada. That the heroine and hero will live HEA forever and ever and never utter a mean or angry word to each other for the rest of their lives.
Well, we know that’s not reality. We know most men can’t pick up their dirty underwear off the bathroom floor. So why, in the really steamy/erotic books do we need this bit of reality? (I don’t know the answer to this question, that’s why I’m asking.
)
Can the erotic writer just include a disclaimer? “In reality, to prevent STDs and unwanted pregnancy, you should practice safe sex, but this is fantasy, and therefore, you will not see safe sex addressed in this story.” ??
Those of you who want the condom/bc issue covered on-screen in romance novels, do you get annoyed with tv shows/movies that don’t cover it (LOL) before they show the people rolling around in the sheets? If not, why not?
Thanks for letting me play!
🙂
PS – Sorry, Bitches, for using
and LOL. I can’t control them. Hope you’ll let me post anyway. Maybe there’s a 12-step program I can look into.
Also, I thought that the failure rate of condoms was generally due to incorrect use.
Yup, the “typical use” number addresses incorrect condom usage, inconsistent usage, etc. But the numbers given for coitus interruptus are for typical usage, too. And if you look at the “perfect use” numbers (i.e. the “lowest expected rate of pregnancy” column), condoms come in at 3% vs. 4% for withdrawal.
In short: strictly as a BC method, condoms aren’t that much more effective than withdrawal.
I don’t think because the book doesn’t spell out that the herione is on the pill that it means she isn’t. We don’t know that she uses toilet paper either—but I assume most do.
Well, yeah—but Pill usage isn’t nearly as common as TP usage, and as someone commented somewhere, forgetting to use a condom in a romance novel, even if it’s just once, usually results in an accidental pregnancy—we got some fertile little bunnies in Romancelandia. I really get the feeling that in romance novels, rubbers are the primary means of BC and not so much disease prevention, mostly because thinking about gonorrhea and HIV = squick, not romantic.
The hero in Kiss Me While I Sleep had had a vasectomy after having kids too young and realizing he wasn’t particularly suited to fatherhood.
Oooooh. Sounds fascinating. Almost fascinating enough for me to pick this up. Almost. Anyway, I may have to switch to another pinata other than Linda Howard, hee!
Those of you who want the condom/bc issue covered on-screen in romance novels, do you get annoyed with tv shows/movies that don’t cover it (LOL) before they show the people rolling around in the sheets? If not, why not?
First of all: Hi Susan! Don’t worry about the LOL-ing or whatnot; just check the FAQ U for the Official SB Policy on LOL and Smileys. (Short summary: we don’t give a rip if other people use ‘em in comments, we just personally refuse to use them in our blog entries/rants/reviews).
Anyway, you brought up some interesting issues. I don’t expect to see someone rolling on a rubber on TV or movies because we don’t get to see full-frontal nudity, much less male nudity, on most TV stations and almost all mainstream movies. Since it’s all fade to black and it’s less possible to be intimate with the characters in a movie or TV show vs. a book (where we can see a lot more minutiae and are privy to their thoughts, etc.), I tend to assume the characters are using BC unless proven otherwise.
In a porno? Eh, I don’t watch porn to get turned on, usually just for shits n giggles, but I do notice that condom usage is becoming more and more common, though I don’t see the actor putting it on. One moment Biggie Not-So-Smalls is getting sucked off sans armor, then he’s pumping away gaily with a rubber on the ole wang.
I also think there’s a difference with watching porn in that I’m not emotionally invested in the characters nor am I expecting even a modicum of realism. So even if I see a girl barebacking with multiple cable guys, there’s no “Eeeek STDs ahoy!” kind of a mindset.
And as for the whole fantasy part: Well, yes and no. Yes, romance novels are mostly fantasy. But depending on the type of romance, varying degrees of reality are required. I mean, it doesn’t have to be perfect; I don’t want to know what the hero’s farts smell like, for example. I got my own real-life dude for THAT. But for a contemporary, disease prevention is an issue, especially HIV. But I’ll also give leeway when I read a contemporary written in the 70s or 80s vs. one written in the 90s and on.
And for me, condom usage isn’t a dealbreaker for me the way it is for, say, Angie, but I do get a minor “Ick!” moment if I notice that the hero and heroine are going at it very shortly after meeting each other without any protection.
Now, if the hero and heroine have known each other a long time and really trust each other before boinking, I’m a lot less squeamish about the lack of condom usage.
It’s odd, yeah. I guess it boils down to: The standards for when condoms are required vs. not aren’t particularly consistent for me. What else is new?
Candy: I also have some major problems with Linda Howard books, and, well, I won’t even get started on all the reasons I was disgusted by Dream Man, but the one book of hers I unequivocally love is To Die For. The heroine breaks a lot of Romance taboos, IMO—she comes from a stable family, has had a normal sex life, is successful and smart and blond and an ex-cheerleader, is completely up front about her expectations, etc., is independent, and ta da, she’s on the pill AND doesn’t trust condoms as a form of birth control. In fact, she wouldn’t sleep with the hero when they started to date because she wasn’t on the pill and wouldn’t trust a condom. In fact, the story begins after they’ve broken up (not having had sex) and are brought back together, so they do actually know each other before they have sex. Yes the book does use the bareback scenario, but Blair, the heroine and the narrator (I don’t always like 1st person but it works here), goes on a whole rant about the stupidity of giving into the hormonal “mating dance” without adequate bc (which in her opinion is nothing less than the pill). And although the hero is a typical Howard alpha, the heroine gives as good as she gets. Although I haven’t read all of Howard’s books, apparently it’s a real departure for her, in part because it’s much lighter and funnier.
ANY time a heroine sleeps with someone without BC or condoms, I assume she’ll be pregnant by the end of the book, because that’s where the author wanted it to go. And surprise surprise, she often is knocked up by the end. Even more fun, when there’s Surprise Pregnancy without any mention whatsoever how the heroine got over her endo or whatever. (Boy, was I ever pissed at the end of “Ain’t She Sweet?” Oh, puhleeze. “Yeah, we don’t need BC, I’m infertile. Surprise! Guess I wasn’t!”)
Anyone else find it interesting how the sex was handled in Mr. Impossible? Hero pulls out the first time, oopses and doesn’t the second, sweats it until heroine conspiciously has her period a few days later. Oh, the fun of being a guy in that period.
Off the top of my head, I can remember the hero in The Boyfriend School having a one-nighter with some (rather slutty, one assumes) chick who asks him in great detail about his sexual history and screams out happily that he’s “practically a virgin!” I am fairly sure a condom was used in that case, but I don’t recall for sure if the heroine used them, or if the h/h used them together. It’s been awhile. And while I can’t remember the details of it either, since Bet Me had a childfree h/h, I assume either BC was used or they didn’t get it on. And in “Nerd in Shining Armor”, a big deal is made of how many condoms the heroine brought with her and how many are left post-island shagging. But that’s about all I can think of.
I don’t think you’ll EVER see a heroine on the shot in a book. I’m on the shot because I can’t swallow pills, and the first thing anyone ever says to me when they hear about it (or at least, before the bone thing came out) is “But…but…won’t that make you unable to have babies FOREVER?!?!” Shots aren’t oops-friendly enough.
Oh, I forgot, the strangest sorta-secret-baby plot I ever read was more of a “secret sperm donor” plot. Heroine gets boyfriend, boyfriend turns out to be killer and offs heroine’s mother and only relative. Heroine not only no longer trusts men, but has no family, so she decides to hit the sperm bank. Hero, who’s 18 years old at the time, falls in love with her at first sight and begs that his sperm be given to her to use, even though he has an inheritable genetic difference (psychic powers) that (a) risks the child’s life, and (b) guarantees that the child will have to be followed/kept tabs on for the rest of her life. Oh, and despite the fact that everyone else who got psychic supersperm was asked if they were okay with getting that, heroine didn’t get a choice in the matter. Ahem.
Jennifer: Holy crap. That is definitely one of the oddest plots I’ve ever heard of, secret baby or not. (I keep mis-typing “secret” as “secrete,” hee!)
And Jennifer Crusie heroes are some of the most conscientous condom users I know of. I don’t think there’s ever been a sex scene she wrote that omitted the hero at least opening a package before, or getting up to toss the condom after.
And Robin: Thanks for the heads up on To Die For. I think I’ll have to check it out from the library….
“And Robin: Thanks for the heads up on To Die For. I think I’ll have to check it out from the library….”
From what I can tell, a lot of Howard fans dislike it, if that’s a recommendation for you! Also, I’ve read complaints about the heroine that are very similar to those made against Annabelle of Kleypas’s Secrets of a Summer Night (I liked Annabelle, so that’s why I bring it up). I often avoid contemporaries because the sexual politics exhaust me (especially when they’re in the text’s subconsious and are completely and unreflectively contradictory), but this was one book where I really enjoyed the way Howard brought the relationship/gender politics right out in the open.
Heh. My grandma lives in the sticks in Montana, where there’s nothing much but restaurants serving spaghetti and fried chicken, antique stores, and used bookstores full of REALLY BAD romance novels. I have a small collection of really heinous plots that makes me laugh and laugh to look at. My favorite being the girl who moves out and dumps her boyfriend all in one day- because he drove his Porsche instead of the truck to work. No, really. (Even more amusing: she lives in a college town and can find someone to live with the day she decides to move out. Hah. I live in a college town and we have to decide where we’re living for the next year 18 months ahead of time.)
I can’t recall the same of the secret-sperm-donor book- something like “Sand Castles” or “Swept Away” or um…something like that. I do think it was a Loveswept, though.
*I was wondering about the fact that readers know that this is a fantasy, so why interupt the fantasy with a dose of reality? Are our books entertainment, or instructional books?*
I guess I think of it as a combination of both reality and fantast. In the real world people are using condoms at the beginning of their relationships (or should be) and no matter how used to the whole thing we are, it seems to me there’s still at least a potential for a scintilla of discomfort/embarassment at that moment when you have to pause for the adornment for a lot of people. So in a book, part of what I appreciate is the acknowledgment of reality and part of what I appreciate is the way in which writers handle that moment. It can, I think, be a useful tool to help everyone understand the characters if handled right – and if the author wishes to do more than just give us a quick allusion to what’s happening. For example, are the h/h matter of fact about it, do they play a game with it, do they use that moment to acknowledge it’s a necessary “evil” but if it fails they’ll work through it together, etc. If it’s not alluded to at all, it actually pulls me out of the book and makes me reflect on their stupidity. It’s a moment that can be used as a guage of each character’s sexual experience and comfort with their bodies – running the gamut from red-faced embarassment to complete shamelessness.
I love it when romance heroes break out condoms for the express purpose of protecting the heroine.
“Wait!” (stops in the middle of foreplay) “I don’t have anything to protect you!”
or
(grabs condom) “Here. Let me protect you!”
Good gawd, I roll my eyes every time. Yeah, like he’s really doing it out of the goodness of his heart.
About heroes and vasectomies: the hero in Evelyn Vaughn’s The Player has one for a rather unique reason. He’s a politician, and someone brought a paternity suit against him. Of course, it wasn’t his child (this is a romance novel), but he wanted to protect himself against potential allegations. If I remember correctly, the hero and heroine still used condoms.
At the end of the book, the couple does talk about getting the vasectemy reversed.
I was wondering about the fact that readers know that this is a fantasy, so why interupt the fantasy with a dose of reality? Are our books entertainment, or instructional books?
I suppose for the same reason that I like believable motivations and characters. I can suspend disbelief by the neck until dead for a good plot, if the characters behave in a believable and consistent way. And to me, in a contemporary novel, using bc and condoms is a necessary part of contemporary life.
(I follow another list where huge flame-wars have taken place over whether a heroine’s one act in a pivital scene for the whole multi-book story arc was consistent and believable. I don’t think it was, and while it didn’t ruin the series for me, it’s a constant annoyance.)
I read one totally unmemorable romance, which was a grown-up secret baby story, in which the hero had had a Mysterious Accident between conceiving baby (now a teenager) and meeting heroine again. Accident had left him fully potent yet sterile. Now, speaking as a vet here, seems to me that the only two ways of creating male sterility are vasectomy and castration, and vasectomy is sufficiently fiddly that I don’t see it happening by accident, somehow. Still, at least they didn’t have to worry about birth control.
I’m surprised by the 3% failure rate with good condom use. I know one experience doesn’t make a statistic, but IME it’s been an absolutely reliable 0% for 15 years, with excellent fertility when required :red:
I remember one book, though not the author’s name nor the title, where the hero did get a vasectomy. The heroine had Down Syndrome (although I’m not certain if they ever outright said it or not), and while he loved her, he didn’t want to go there… He also never mentioned it to her, because she loved children so and he didn’t want to break her heart. Or something. It was a long time ago.