On Wallpaper Historicals

I’m sure all of you have seen the latest dust-up over at AAR, since you don’t live under a rock like I currently do (my rock suspiciously resembles the LSAT Superprep *weeps*), but in case you haven’t, here’s my 100%-accurate-or-your-money-back executive summary of the high points: reader posts opinion about what readers really want, writer of historicals posts a bunch of random, half-cocked crap about Ellora’s Cave and something that comes dangerously close to sounding like anti-intellectual pablum in the course of defending wallpaper historicals, and gets kinda pissy when people point out that she’s kinda fulla crap.

My favorite post so far, however, is by Lydia Joyce. I’ve never read anything she’s written—Veil of Night received excellent buzz but flunked my 15-page test, and now I’m contemplating Music of the Night, but my rock, it is very insistent I stay here for several more weeks—but holy cow, she knocks it out of the ballpark, in terms of expressing exactly what bothers me about a lot of historical romances.

I’m going to take the liberty of quoting her at length here:

“Wallpaper” historicals are, essentially, costume dramas. Yes, the characters dress up in clothes that more-or-less resemble clothing of the period. Yes, characters sip warm lemonade and dance at Almack’s. But the reader can’t really believe for one minute that these people could have actually existed in 1813 (or whenever), nor did the world of the book ever exist. In essence, the readers just can’t believe in the book.

Jane Austen’s books, being entirely rooted in the mores, customs, and foibles of the time, would not be “wallpapers” if written now.

I think the wallpaper effect happens most often because many writers use other romance books as their primary research tool, with a secondary reliance upon books like What Jane Austen Ate… They’ve read tons of historical romance and love the genre, and so they think they really know the time period. Unfortunately, if I restrict my reading to those kinds of sources, the experiences of my characters will rarely deviate from what I’ve already read because that’s as big a world as I could understand. Hence a derivative story with no historical substance and characters that might be my next door neighbors in fancy clothes.

(…)

When people dismiss complaints about “wallpaper historicals” by putting up a “history lesson” as the alternative, I get a little…tetchy. It’s an attack out of left field with nothing at all to do with the issue at hand. Don’t care about accuracy in books? Fine. But don’t imply that anyone who cares about accuracy likes to be lectured or that Judith Ivory and Loretta Chase write “history lessons”.

*insert Candy fistpumping in the air with joy*

That’s not to say that I haven’t read and enjoyed wallpaper historicals. The queen of the wallpaper historical is, in my opinion, Mary Jo Putney. (Authors like Julie Garwood and Johanna Lindsey don’t count, in my opinion, because they didn’t write historical novels so much as novels set in some sort of wacky alternate reality. And we won’t even speak of authors like Connie Mason and Cassie Edwards because…we just won’t.) Putney gets many of her historical details right, but many of her characters behave, speak and think in modern ways.

But despite the exasperation I’ve felt over her characters, I still have a few of her books on my keeper shelves, because damn, that woman knows how to write a compelling love story. The wallpaper historical element, while it may interfere with my enjoyment, isn’t necessarily a dealbreaker for me.

On the flip side, nothing beats a historical that gets the feel right. part of the reason why I enjoy Loretta Chase as much as I do is because she gets the voice dead-on—or, perhaps more importantly, what I perceive as dead-on. I hear a very dry, witty British voice every time I pick up one of her books, and it’s not something I’ve seen any other American romance author accomplish. I enjoy her love stories, but it’s her voice that gives her books that extra zing, and what keeps me coming back for more.

So, where you do you stand in all this? Do you give a shit? Don’t give a shit? Think those of us who care about accuracy are nitpicking prigs? Think those who don’t care about accuracy are troglodytes with compromised palates? Something in between? Let ‘er rip in the comments.

Comments are Closed

  1. What I really want to know is if LLG has always believed that “in a romance, it was the romance that mattered, not the history or the setting”, why bother with a historical setting at all? Wouldn’t it be easier to write a contemporary romance? Why the obsession with regency settings and nothing else?

    I don’t think of the debate as a case of either/or, but a spectrum that anyone can approach from either direction. The problem is that if you use too much accuracy, people might be thrown out of the book because it challenges received wisdom about “the past”. Unless you want to footnote, which some people find distracting (I love it and wish more writers footnoted) some things will probably have to be fudged. Take Lydia Joyce’s example of the night tables, or medieval history where there are just so many uncertainties.

    There’s also my conviction that an objective view of history is an impossible dream. We can only ever assess competing interpretations of the evidence. Like language, for example. The OED can only provide dates for the first written evidence of a word’s existence, and this usually comes from printed sources. So it’s perfectly possible that people were using a word years or even decades before it “officially” entered the language. No one’s ever going to be totally accurate, and someone will always find something to disagree with.

    That said, I’m always going to prefer books that revel in history and mine its possibilities. And it is possible to reach a consensus of views when faced with a preponderance of evidence for one thing and little or nothing that contradicts this view.

    Furthermore, if there isn’t any evidence for a particular behaviour, then I find it difficult to accept its existence if it’s incompatible with the majority of evidence. If paintings, writings and physical artifacts show that women of a certain social class always wore dresses during a certain period, and there is little or no evidence that they wore hot-pants, then put the heroine in a damn dress.

    If a writer really wants to write about a heroine who wears trousers and espouses late twentieth-century feminist values and freedoms, then why bother with the worries about fashion details and so on? Why bother with the hassle over how to get the hero out of his wig ‘cos they aren’t the mark of hawt hawt manliness to a reader these days? It’s possible to argue that this couple are the exception, but I find it difficult to accept that their peers also unquestioningly accept this behaviour.

    It’s one thing to argue differing interpretations of evidence, it’s another to flagrantly contradict what all the available sources say without other proof, or at least a decent argument.

  2. Jealousy – if someone behaves like Othello, isn’t that going to have to have a least a little misogyny and non-violence in that person’s background? So, say, a 19th-century Quaker hero wouldn’t behave the same way if presented with the same information as Othello was.

    I certainly can’t argue that attitudes change from age to age but, on the other hand, it seems that people don’t change. We live in a comparably enlightened age, but there are plenty of men these days who react to jealousy with violence and murder. And plenty who wouldn’t. And while it may have been stupid to get yourself ruined in the nineteenth century. . . well, it’s pretty darn easy to get birth control these days, and there are plenty of adult women who manage to play dumb about that. (And plenty who took those risks when there were strict societal consequences. My mom HAD to get married when she was seventeen.)

    Emotions like lust and jealousy overrule our good senses all the time (ahem), just as they always have. My point being that no matter what the age. . . it’s been done before.

    BUT! That doesn’t mean I would ever, ever, ever change the mores of my fictional society so that my characters could do what they wanted. Lust may be universal, but society’s response to that behavior would be very, very different in each age. Don’t worry. I’m not discounting that! There aren’t any concubine-introduction parties in my books. Anyway, it would make it more interesting if the family hated her and drove her out of town, IMHO. Ha!

  3. I must add. . . that the reason I’ve always loved reading and writing historical is BECAUSE of those societal differences. I think the restrictions and the real danger of taking emotional and sexual risks heighten emotions.

  4. Abby says:

    All I have to say is – what is up with the AAR boards lately? I have been avoiding them like the plague for weeks. I’m not sure I’ll ever go back. Man, those are some godawful conversations!

    I would rely on the SB’s to summarize for me but to make anyone read that stuff seems cruel and sadistic.

  5. Yeah, I read through a couple dozen of those posts, and wheeeee! There are some kooky people in this world. And I thought I was odd.

  6. celeste says:

    Abby said: All I have to say is – what is up with the AAR boards lately? I have been avoiding them like the plague for weeks. I’m not sure I’ll ever go back. Man, those are some godawful conversations!

    Amen, sister! And that message board software doesn’t help, either. I guess it’s a good thing for me that the software makes it more cumbersome to keep track of and respond to large threads—I’m far less tempted to participate! Even phpBB would be an improvement over the stuff they’re using now, IMO.

  7. anu439 says:

    “The really sad thing about LLG’s comments, IMO (and I haven’t yet read any of her books) is that she came across, anyway, as someone who writes solely based on what she sees as the market, not for the love of the genre or out of any passion for specific stories.  I doubt she meant to come off that way, and she’d likely dispute my characterization very strongly, but sadly, that’s what I walked away with after her comments.”

    Robin, I personally don’t give a shit if LLG’s editor hands her a template of what her next book should include. Writing to market does not necessarily mean cookie-cutter, imo, and it doesn’t mean that the author doesn’t love and care for what she’s writing. Same as historically inaccurate doesn’t necessarily lower story quality.

    The key is *voice*. If an author writes to market, can she takes what’s selling and tell it in her own unique way? Can the author create compelling characters *despite* the sketchy history?

    Look at Kleypas and Connie Brockway. I doubt they’re writing in contemporaries because they felt “inspired” to—scratch that, I’m sure they felt very “inspired” by the declining historicals market compared to the booming contemporary one. But according to the AAR interview, Kleypas spent quite some time immersing herself in contemporary world, trying to figure what makes them work, and whether she’s got the voice to carry it off. *That’s* what will make the difference.  A smart writer does her research, no matter the genre, the story, or her intentions.

    In any case, LLG will always have a small claim on my affections because of Conor’s Way. The love story didn’t add up to much, but man she tortured Conor like nobody’s business. I’ve read only one of her latest, His Every Kiss, which I thought *fascinating* in how unromantic it was, especially the hero. I was hoping that the book was meant to be a critical commentary on romance notions of “hero” and “happily ever after,” but sadly, dick later said that LLG had gotten very defensive when he’d brought up just very idea.

  8. Aren’t there other ways to establish the historical context without getting into the politics of the time?

    Of course. I was just responding to another comment, but also to the feeling that a lot of people really miss those old historical epics. That’s a real void for readers right now, but not for me. Does that mean I don’t love history? I don’t know. I’ve loved some big ol’ books before. Margaret George’s The Memoirs of Cleopatra is one of my favorites. I try to pass it on to people, but they usually back away slowly. The Crimson Petal and the White was amazing. But I want my romance reads to be smaller. Not dumbed down. More focused. I don’t want the h/h separated for 50 pages. Because it’s the play between those TWO that I want to spy on. I’m a voyeur!

    Anyway, I’ll duck after saying this, but I think that’s what whoever-over-on-AAR meant when she said her focus is on the romance, not the history. Then again, it’s hard to focus on the romance if the history is standing there jacking off and picking its nose while wearing anachronistic breeches. Hee.

  9. SandyO says:

    ’ve read only one of her latest, His Every Kiss, which I thought *fascinating* in how unromantic it was, especially the hero. I was hoping that the book was meant to be a critical commentary on romance notions of “hero” and “happily ever after,” but sadly, dick later said that LLG had gotten very defensive when he’d brought up just very idea.
    I have to defend LLG on this point (and actually I did so on AAR as well). Dick didn’t pose his question in the terms you did.  IIRC his question was “How do you write a hero you don’t like?” (this might be a paraphrase, but believe me it was that blunt and combative). Going on the assumption she couldn’t have possibly liked the hero (whom I loved, btw).

    But back on wallpaper.  I’ve read most of LLG’s books.  Someone mentioned Conor’s Way.  The hero wouldn’t have been the same if he hadn’t lived through the Irish potato famine and the subsequent rebellions.  That’s what is meant when it’s said that events shape characters.

    Conversely, LLG wrote Breathless.  A book I couldn’t finish.  It took place in a small Southern town (around 1880s-1890s).  Using a variation of the Greek play Lysistrata, the women of the town band together to deny martial relations with their husbands (can’t remember what the cause was).  But the key here, was that whites and blacks were in this together (you expected them to start singing Kumbaya).  I wish that race relations were that good in turn of the century South, but unfortunately they weren’t.  Now I know that the issue of racial relations in historicals is tricky-I’m sure it’s the reason there are very few historicals set in the South.  BUT LLG chose to set the book in Georgia.  And she got very defensive when readers commented on this omission.  If she had set the book in a Kansas farming town or an Idaho mining camp, it would have worked (ie: the story is the key here, not the setting).  But setting it in a region where there are issues that makes it ring untrue causes me to be pulled out of the story.  And to me that is the worst thing an author can do.

  10. Candy says:

    Oh, and BTW, Candy, did you see LLB gave you a shout out in her response to LLG?

    Heh heh. Yes, yes I did. There was actually quite a bit of coyness in referring to Smart Bitches, since other people referenced Laura Kinsale’s recent piece about the art of writing; I’m not sure if it’s due to the blog title or what.

    Totally OT for Candy:  What’s the LSAT Superprep?  I spent months scarfing up used test materials on eBay, then ignored it all and took the test blind.  I do have this GREAT book for the logic games, though, that I’d be happy to send you if you want it.  It’s the Powerscore LSAT Logic Games Bible and it’s the only resource I checked out.  Would have helped more if I hadn’t been trying to work the problems, like, two days before the LSAT, though.  I fucking hated that test.  HATED. IT.

    The LSAT Superprep is the official LSAT preparation book published by the LSAC. And I have the exact same Powerscore book! How funny. Haven’t cracked it open yet, though, because I’m taking a couple of sample tests blind just for shits and giggles to see how I do. Man, those logic games kick my ass. It took me 12 minutes to answer 5 questions the first time out. Ugh.

    If you don’t mind me asking, what kind of a score did you get? I have a friend who did the same thing you did: made a slapdash effort at studying a few nights before the test, and still got 165, which was the 93rd percentile that year. Fucker.

    And Victoria: Whether or not your book turns out to be a wallpaper historical or not will probably depend on whether you get the feel right—which isn’t very helpful, I know. Sigh. When I’m talking about wallpaper historicals, I’m not necessarily referring to the nitty-gritty, though they’re important, too. Like I said before, Mary Jo Putney is, in my opinion, the Queen of Wallpaper Historicals, even though she gets the settings and the details right. The dialogue that comes out of her characters’ mouths, however, as well as the way the characters react to events and think about issues, are by and large modern. Mary Balogh does the same thing, but not quite as often as Putney. Laura V’s examples said it best, I think.

    And yes, the romance part is an integral part of historical romance, but in my opinion, so is the historical bit. Other people don’t care quite as much; as for myself, certain books are so compelling or just plain fun to read that I’m able to ignore the awfulness of the setting, but people like Tonda can’t, so I seem to be somewhat in the middle in the spectrum of “don’t really give a shit” and “give a whole hell of a lotta shits.”

    And as Robin noted somewhere in the thread, in terms of emotional impact, there’s no real way of saying which book is better, because that’s highly dependent on individual response, but in terms of judging which book depicts history correctly and conveying an authentic feel—well, then, now we’re in different territory, and I think it’s certainly possible to make more objective assessments as to which books do a better job than others.

    Wow, I’m totally rambling here. Don’t mind me, I’m just the crazy Chinese chick babbling to herself in the corner.

  11. Rosemary says:

    Personally, I read historicals because of my lack of knowledge about the period.  This is one time when ignorance truly is bliss.  It allows me to just go with the flow & enjoy the story. 

    I tend to nit-pick when I read contemporaries, so I can’t enjoy them because of their absolutely absurd plotlines.  It seemed like every contemporary I read thought I should believe that the world is crawling with billionaires who are SWAT members going around knocking up grade school teachers and then get whacked in the head during some amazing “save the world” mission and then get amnesia.

    With historicals I can fool myself into thinking, “Well, I never lived there, maybe, just maybe it could happen.”

    And, as I explained to a friend once, “If I wanted to experience people falling in love under absurd circumstances today, I’d just watch TV.”

  12. Rachel says:

    I’m currently on a Judith Ivory glom, but while I am loving Ivory’s richly detailed settings, I just finished one book in which the poor hero was forced to do battle with both the heroine’s timid resistance and her undergarments for just waaaay too long. Hey, I love a long, hot sexual buildup as much as the next girl, but as Ivory took us under the girl’s skirts, past the stockings, then under, over, around, and down those goddamn knickers—with a lot of tugging, unbuttoning, and flipping all the while—first, I think I was starting to make more frustrated growls than the hero. Second, I totally…well…lost momentum because I was too busy trying to visualize the construction of those Victorian knickers and how they were positioned in relation to the corset, etc. That may have been a perfect account of how painstaking the whole process of trying to cop a feel could be back then, but all I could think was, “Rip them. For god’s sake, just rip the stinkin’ knickers already!”

  13. Tonda says:

    What do you think, O’ Historical Bitch? Seriously. Honestly. I’m interested. Did you throw it against the wall?

    Not wallpapery (I love inventing words; if Thomas “smalling” Hardy can do it so can I damn-it!). No *BANG* it hits the wall (or *TINK* I’ve shut the file).

    Women in breeches (if properly motivated) is not a wall banger for me. Caro Lamb did it while she was hunting Byron. I probably wouldn’t have done it, but you used it to good effect and I totally bought it (plus it pissed the hero off and gave the opening instant edge).

    So now we’ve had our sickingly sweet love fest and assured each other that whatever else might be said about our books, they are NOT wallpapery.

    And while we may all be hearing that historicals are a hard sell, of the 17 2005 Golden Heart finalists who’ve sold to date, 5 of us are historical (a number equal to that of ST Contemp; what hasn’t sold at all is paranormal).

  14. Tonda says:

    In some cases, though, I think there are some people who don’t like other people, and anti-initellectualism can come across as a virtuous and just plain effective way to say “be quiet; we don’t like you.” Of course in my case, I hear “speak up; we can’t hear you,”

    Robin, I think i lurv you.

  15. Tonda says:

    Aren’t there other ways to establish the historical context without getting into the politics of the time?

    Ok, sorry for the glut of responses. I feel like I’ve come to the dance late . . . which is what happens when you drink dog knows how much red wine then chase it with Pabst Blue Ribbon. Oh my pounding head . . . and my damn neighbors and their construction crew.

    I don’t really get into the politics of the era, cause most people find it boring, baffling, or otherwise off-putting (do I really want to try and work in an treatise on Whig vs. Tory?). Jo Bev is the only romance writer I’ve ever seen pull of court politics and make them gripping . . . but that’s why she’s a GODDESS and I’m still a mere mortal.

    I’m with Vicki on what and why I write. I’m obsessed with the internal shit we all carry around with us and how it prevents otherwise perfecting normal people from hooking up and being happy. I simply choose to explore this in a Georgian setting. Which means I get a whole load of mores and rules to play with that I wouldn’t have if I set the book in contemporary America. In fact, I’m obsessed with exploring the internal conflicts, the personal issues, to the point of having almost no external conflict. It seems vaguely unnecessary to me. My god, isn’t working out your baggage enough? Let along trying to merge it with someone else’s and then sorting it?

  16. >>(plus it pissed the hero off and gave the opening instant edge). <<

    Ha! I lurve to piss my heroes off. And I didn’t even mention the breeches here, because I’m sure it just screams wallpaper, but if I can bring Tonda to the dark side, then hoo-damn. Seriously, I’m honored. (And, just for reference, it’s only in the first scene and only in HER house. Not, for instance, out riding with the ladies. *snort*)

    Thanks for mentioning Caro Lamb. I get tired of people insisting no one would EVER have done that or said that or thought that. It has ALL been done before. Our generation didn’t invent sex or brains or women with big balls. And if there was one woman out of ten thousand who wore pants just to be scandalous or tittilating, then that’s the wench I want to read about! Or the one who took a secret lover. Or the one who arranged her own deflowering! Yes! Which is why I wondered if I were wallpapery.

    Well, Tonda, you know I love you and there’s just no getting around that, so if it makes others uncomfortable. . . look away!

  17. to the point of having almost no external conflict. It seems vaguely unnecessary to me.

    Here, here!

    Omg, it IS a love fest. Someone step in and rough us up a little. Though it sounds like Tonda’s head might fall off with the slightest jolt.

  18. anu439 says:

    I have to defend LLG on this point (and actually I did so on AAR as well). Dick didn’t pose his question in the terms you did.  IIRC his question was “How do you write a hero you don’t like?” (this might be a paraphrase, but believe me it was that blunt and combative). Going on the assumption she couldn’t have possibly liked the hero (whom I loved, btw).

    Let me make clear that I wasn’t around for that thread, so I am totally talking out of my ass here. But given what I’ve seen of dick’s posting style, I have a hard time believing he could ever write a “combative” post. 

    As well, I don’t see what’s to get so ruffled up about his question. If the answer’s no, LLG lurved her hero just fine thanks, what’s to defend against? Question asked and answered. What am I missing? Man, I’m continually baffled by what romance authors and readers choose to get offended about. 

    I would actually like to have a conversation about His Every Kiss, if you’re up for it, as beyond a couple comments with dick, I haven’t talked about it with anyone. Basically, my position is this: To the extent that love is meant to have transformative power, it was Dylan’s love for his daughter and vice-versa that proved teh most powerful; there’s a good argument that *that* was the real love story of HEK.

    As far as the h/h, well, no love to be found there. Dylan makes his power plays to the very end and wins. Meanwhile, we’re told that the “heroine” once gave up respectability to travel Europe with the man she loved, playing in celebrated concert halls. This time around though, she gives up her life to be exiled to a remote Welsh cottage at the behest of her “love” Dylan. He banishes her to exile, then because he feels so bad (not because of concern for *her* happiness, but because of *his* feelings of remorse), he “frees” her from her sequestration in the name of love. HEA, indeed.

  19. Lydia Joyce says:

    I depends on why it failed your 15-page test as to whether or not you want to read more of VEIL.  *g*  If it’s because it starts out as seeming to be a I-will-bargain-with-my-body-to-save-my-dear-brother plot, even with a slight twist, that goes away by chapter two.  I had that plot only to play off it and to final in the Golden Heart by having a Really Obvious Conflict for all the judges who need that sort of thing.  (It worked, too.  *ahem*)  If it just plain bored you brainless, then no, you probably won’t like VEIL. 

    (BTW, this is very much a cabin-type romance—historical accuracy, absolutely, and the characters are very much tied to their times, but they are quite separated from any social or political sphere.)

    I’m not sure if you’ll like MUSIC—it’s got a quiet-and-powerless-yet-tough-as-nails heroine and ambiguously moral hero.  Most readers got Sarah and loved her, but some didn’t and thought she was weak (at least until the end).  And a few never entirely warmed to the hero.

    But I bet you’ll like WHISPERS.  I suspect that most people will like WHISPERS.  *g*  A few will probably decide that the beginning is too slow because they like the action of the second half (road-romance-plus-adventure/captivity), but it’s a lot more of a plotty “ride” than my other books.

    Oh, and I wasn’t the one to talk about historical fiction versus historical romance.  I think that was in the conversation between Sunita and Robin.

    >The problem is that if you use too much accuracy, people might be thrown out of the book because it challenges received wisdom about “the past”.

    Oh, AMEN!  I “footnote” my books on my website, and I try my darnedest to be convincing as possible when I HAVE done the research, but I’ve definitely gotten where-are-the-pantaloons-on-the-piano-type reviews.

  20. Robin says:

    As well, I don’t see what’s to get so ruffled up about his question. If the answer’s no, LLG lurved her hero just fine thanks, what’s to defend against? Question asked and answered. What am I missing? Man, I’m continually baffled by what romance authors and readers choose to get offended about.

    I WAS around for that discussion, and while Dick has had his moments on the board, I have to defend him on this one.  I thought he was asking a very straightforward question about how (and more importantly, whether) Romance authors write characters they personally dislike.  It’s related, actually, to Candy’s post about being invested as a reader in liking the hero of a Romance, and a question that I think could have led to an really interesting conversation about the relationship between authors and their characters.  Anyway, I think that people interpreted it as hostile and as an attack on authors and it went kind of downhill from there.  Sometimes I also think that people don’t read the *entire* thread on a topic before posting, and well, misconceptions start to piggyback on one another until the original poster’s comment has been entirely lost or reconceptualized.

    Robin, I personally don’t give a shit if LLG’s editor hands her a template of what her next book should include. Writing to market does not necessarily mean cookie-cutter, imo, and it doesn’t mean that the author doesn’t love and care for what she’s writing. Same as historically inaccurate doesn’t necessarily lower story quality.

    That’s a fair point, anu, but it still doesn’t make me want to run to buy Guhrke’s books.  Even if Kleypas, for example, turned to contemps out of some sort of necessity, I always have a strong sense of her love of the genre and her strong engagement with writing.  What I got from LLG (really, I think Jaid Black just spelled her name wrong, because can’t get it, either) was an incredible ambition and a commitment to do whatever is necessary to sell.  In a way I really admire that, but it didn’t speak strongly to the idealistic reader in me who nurtures the *illusion* that the books I love were written by people who love to write.  I won’t turn away from her books based on what she wrote there, but it pushed The Marriage Bed lower on my TBB list, and for sure whatever of her books I try first will be purchased used. If I like what I read, I’ll buy more, maybe even new.

    If you don’t mind me asking, what kind of a score did you get? I have a friend who did the same thing you did: made a slapdash effort at studying a few nights before the test, and still got 165, which was the 93rd percentile that year. Fucker.

    I got a handful of points fewer than your friend (one fistful of fingers, not two), and I was disappointed.  I have no idea what percentile I was in, because I was sure no law school was going to accept me with anything below 170 (I was in my supreme ‘I have a phd how hard can this be’ arrogance mode), but I managed to get accepted to the top tier school I wanted to go to (the only one to which I applied, actually), and no matter what they say, I do NOT understand the relationship between the LSAT and either law school success of bar exam passage rates.  I can tell you, though, that it was the logic problems that kicked my ass and not the verbal sections, which were as fun as a timed test taken in a room steeped in overcaffeinated desperation can be.  I HIGHLY recommend that Logic Games Bible.  Had I actually gotten off my high horse long enough to study it more carefully (I’m also notoriously lazy), I think my score would have been substantially improved.  But, like I said, I still got in to a top tier school, so it’s not the end all be all.  If you want to email me with more questions, feel free.

  21. Robin says:

    I’m obsessed with the internal shit we all carry around with us and how it prevents otherwise perfecting normal people from hooking up and being happy.

    My favorite Romances focus on internal conflict.  I think sometimes people associate the whole “historical authenticity/accuracy” issue with making sure every single detail is just right and in place, but for me it’s more about the way an author *uses* the historical moment to flesh out her story.  Obviously some of the big “what is the meaning of life and love and who am I anyway and do I deserve this and what is the nature of happiness and the point of suffering” questions are common to so many works of fiction, but in the same way that we expect characters in contemporary Romance to act in ways that are recognizable within their time and place, so should we be able to expect the same form characters in historical Romance.  If I simply changed the background of a story—and nothing else—and the book presented virtually no difference, I think of that as wallpaper history.  If, however, the characters are tied to the moment in which they live—if their attitudes and choices and values and conflicts are engendered by their place in history, then I feel we’ve moved more firmly into the territory of *historical* Romance.

    What bugs me the most about historical Romance is not the placing of potatoes in Medieval England or talk of a hero’s ego before 1900 (a reader on AAR pointed that one out, and now I’ll always recognize it!).  It’s the use of *popular ideas* of history to justify asshole character behavior.  Like Brenda Joyce’s use of the mythic “lord’s first night” in The Congueror, or Coulter’s use of whatever asshole rapist hero she trots out in whatever historical, based on the idea that such behavior was part of the “culture” back then and is somehow historically “authentic” and therefore more palatable.  Shit.  Men have raped in every freakin country and in every freakin decade, and if you want a rape fantasy in Romance, more power to you.  But the need for distance has way more to do with *psychology* than it does with *history*.  And don’t even get me started on how Native American characters are portrayed based on completely warped historical perceptions of their cultures, either. If authors really want to look at those cultural differences, then by all means, do, but please realize that the whole *context* must change, the whole paradigm in which you are viewing, judging, and selectively choosing pieces of history (or in some cases, merely lore).

  22. Laura V says:

    “What I got from LLG […] was an incredible ambition and a commitment to do whatever is necessary to sell.”

    On her website she says this:

    “I went off to college, thinking I might make this writing thing work somehow and become a journalist. That sounded great, until I discovered I was a capitalist at heart. What I really wanted was to make money. Writers and journalists, I thought, don’t make money. They also face rejection all the time—why would anyone set herself up for that? I changed my major and graduated from college with a business degree and a vague ambition to become rich. [then, after various jobs and about 10 years ….]

    I kept yearning to find a satisfying career that didn’t require me to work for somebody else. That’s when writing books became my new life ambition. I knew most writers didn’t make much money, but I reasoned that it would all work out somehow, and I would be like Jude Devereaux or Judith McNaught. You see, I had always been a sucker for a good love story, and romance was what I loved to read, so writing romance seemed like a great career move. How fun it would be to have a job like that. And you know what? It is.”
    http://www.lauraleeguhrke.com/life.htm

    So she’s saying she is ambitious and is interested in money, but she also loves the genre.

  23. anu439 says:

    I WAS around for that discussion, and while Dick has had his moments on the board, I have to defend him on this one.  I thought he was asking a very straightforward question about how (and more importantly, whether) Romance authors write characters they personally dislike…Anyway, I think that people interpreted it as hostile and as an attack on authors and it went kind of downhill from there.  Sometimes I also think that people don’t read the *entire* thread on a topic before posting, and well, misconceptions start to piggyback on one another until the original poster’s comment has been entirely lost or reconceptualized.

    Well, you are way nicer than me. In the past couple weeks, I’ve spent more consecutive time on Romance sites than I have in looong while, and it has not been pleasant. I’ve decided that most people are eager to take offense at anything that’s not 1) hardcore gush 2) couched in gushy terms or 3) includes more than 2 syllable words—3 ties into 1 and 2, because as we all know, words that take more than 2 syllables are by definition so not gushy. That’s my totally offensive, shallow, hugely stereotyping “analysis.” (It’s also bitchy, so I hope the SBs will leave it up.)

    That’s a fair point, anu, but it still doesn’t make me want to run to buy Guhrke’s books.  Even if Kleypas, for example, turned to contemps out of some sort of necessity, I always have a strong sense of her love of the genre and her strong engagement with writing.  What I got from LLG (really, I think Jaid Black just spelled her name wrong, because can’t get it, either) was an incredible ambition and a commitment to do whatever is necessary to sell.  In a way I really admire that, but it didn’t speak strongly to the idealistic reader in me who nurtures the *illusion* that the books I love were written by people who love to write.

    First, why do you need the illusion that the books you love were written by people who love to write? How does the authors’ investment in their own work contribute/detract from your experience of the book? Does the author also have to love the story that you love? What if author of the story you love regards it as her least favorite, or she just doesn’t like it?

    Second, why does “an incredible ambition and a commitment to do whatever is necessary to sell” necessarily lead to the conclusion that such an author does not love to write? Why are the two ideas mutually exclusive?

    Surely, if LLG or anybody just wanted to make money, they could find a hell of a lot easier ways of doing so than going into a creative field. Writing is hard work whether it’s writing jingles, formulaic bestsellers, or obscure critics’ favorites.

    Imo, nothing LLG said on AAR necessarily leads to your interpretations. And even if her comments did, so what? Again I go back to why that should affect your experience of the text. We are readers. The story is all—well, okay mostly. And if ideally we want the story, the writing, to be all to the author, then the the story, the writing should be the main/sole basis for our own judgements. Well unless the authors are perverts…*thinking hard*…or have an unnatural attachment to carebears or something. Yes, I think that’s it.

    (I know you’re just saying LLG’s moved down on your TBR pile, you’re not saying “I’m NEVER going to read her!” or anything. And when we’ve all got only so much money and time, we’ve gotta prioritize *somehow*. I get that. Still. There’s something about your comments that can’t help but find unfair….I feel the need to say “I hope you’re not offended” but that’s practically an indication that you should be; but you really shouldn’t be because I respect the hell the out of you. Did I mention that I’m not bothering to be tactful this week? We should prolly continue this convo next week.)

    In any case, fwiw, imo, though I’m not interested in LLG’s stories anymore (ever since I realized she wasn’t critiqueing genre conventions in HEK but actually perpetuating the worst ones); still, her writing style is smooth and intelligent.

    Also, before the ATBF kerfuffle, I did not know that a Gherkin was pickle. And that “pickle” is an insult. Really?

  24. Candy says:

    I get tired of people insisting no one would EVER have done that or said that or thought that. It has ALL been done before. Our generation didn’t invent sex or brains or women with big balls. And if there was one woman out of ten thousand who wore pants just to be scandalous or tittilating, then that’s the wench I want to read about! Or the one who took a secret lover. Or the one who arranged her own deflowering! Yes! Which is why I wondered if I were wallpapery.

    I get tired of the stereotype that women back in the Bad Old Days were passive, too. And I do agree that rulebreakers and shit-disturbers are a lot more entertaining to read about than people who lead lives of quiet desperation (though those stories can be very compelling, too), but the problem, I think, is that romance is saturated with rule-breaking types; instead of standing out from the crowd, these sorts of heroines have become kind of ho-hum. She’s a Regency or Victorian heroine who wears breeches, or is a crack shot, or rides a horse like a man, or wants to run Daddy’s business? That’s all well and good, but she better differentiate herself from the 2,395,032 other heroines in Romancelandia who do the same, and if she’s a feminist type, then God forgive her (for all values of God = me) if at any point her opinions sound like they’ve been lifted straight from, say, Luce Irigaray.

    That’s not to say that skilled authors can’t take the shit-disturbing, pants-wearing heroine and make her fabulous, and frankly, given that you wrote about an upper-class woman who knew about the immunities granted by virtue of her position and power (that alone seems non-wallpapery to me), you’d probably use this old trope in new and interesting ways. Can’t say until I’ve read the book, though.  :vampire:

    My favorite Romances focus on internal conflict.  I think sometimes people associate the whole “historical authenticity/accuracy” issue with making sure every single detail is just right and in place, but for me it’s more about the way an author *uses* the historical moment to flesh out her story.

    Thank you, Robin. That pretty much gets to the heart of wallpaper vs. not-wallpaper for me.

    Also, thanks for talking about the LSAT with me. It’s good to hear about other people’s experiences. I have a long roadtrip this weekend, so I might bust out the logic games bible in the car when it’s not my turn to drive. Whee-hee fun.

    And Lydia: I can’t remember why VON flunked the 15-page test. Sometimes books flunk because they just plain fail to grab me, which is sometimes unfair, because there are some fabulous books that didn’t engage me until almost 100 pages into them (Declare by Tim Powers is my favorite example). I’m interested in MOTN mostly because of the unusual setting, and frankly, I’m more inclined to buy your books because you seem really, really sharp and therefore highly unlikely to dumb down the story, which is an infuriating problem I’ve encountered time and again in romance.

  25. Laura V says:

    “before the ATBF kerfuffle, I did not know that a Gherkin was pickle. And that “pickle” is an insult. Really?”

    Probably depends on how much you like pickles.

    I looked it up on Google, just to be sure of the details and here is a description of the gherkin: ‘Gherkin (French cornichon) is a young cucumber (Cucumis sativus), picked when 1 to 3 inches (3 to 8 cm) in length and pickled in jars or cans with vinegar (often flavoured with herbs, particularly dill; hence, ‘dill pickle’) or brine.’
    http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gherkin

    So it’s a young cucumber. That could be a compliment if used to describe a writer, I suppose (as in the person’s writing is fresh, not old/tired), and it was apparently ‘a favorite of Thomas Jefferson’.

  26. Candy says:

    Isn’t “gherkin” slang for a small dick?

  27. Candy says:

    Silly girl, I should’ve looked it up in the Urban Dictionary before posting.

    Anyway, among certain circles, gherkin = teenie weenie.

  28. >>Can’t say until I’ve read the book, though. :vampire: <<

    Is that supposed to scare me? Because it does.

    Ever since I got my contract, I’ve been wondering if I would send my book to you for review. It’s simultaneously exciting and scary, which kind of turns me on. But also makes me nervous. But also makes me giddy. Maybe like a date with a guy you have a serious, horny crush on, but you know for a fact he is into BDSM.

    Hmm. I think I have some unexamined issues. :gulp:

  29. cassie says:

    In fact, I’m obsessed with exploring the internal conflicts, the personal issues, to the point of having almost no external conflict. It seems vaguely unnecessary to me. My god, isn’t working out your baggage enough?

    I also prefer books that deal more with the characters’ issues, and I wouldn’t want a treatise on politics or clothing style or the architecture, but I can’t help but think that the external stuff has a fairly significant part in how a character perceives the world and how that affects his or her views on…well, nearly everything.  Wouldn’t at least some of the baggage come from external forces? 

    A character who I find fascinating (although he’s not from a romance novel; he’s not even from a novel, but the writer considers all the relationships he creates romantic – does that count? – and I like to think of this series as a historical set in the future, speaking of themes that transcend time) is Malcolm Reynolds (Firefly).  His internal conflicts are definitely shaped by external forces – one of which is a war he lost (during which he also lost his faith in God and the government).  He also has a major hang up with his love interest (I guess that’s who she could be) because of her profession as a Companion (very geisha-like), though he doesn’t seem to have a problem with whores as whores (course, he’s not falling in love with them, either). 

    As for accuracy of setting, in this case, it doesn’t bother me that you can’t have 70 planets around one sun because all that stuff goes right over my head. Similarly, if I get caught up in the characters, even if the rest of the story isn’t entirely accurate, I like to think of it as being set in an alternate universe, similar to our own.  Although, im(non-writer’s)o, another important part of world-building is also to give a sense that the characters don’t exist almost entirely by themselves.  I’ve read a few books where there wasn’t much else going on other than whatever was happening in the main characters’ immediate setting; in those cases, I couldn’t get into the books very much because I couldn’t seem to lose the feeling that it was a book – it was like the characters only existed as a story, rather than having a life beyond what was written, if that makes sense.

  30. given that you wrote about an upper-class woman who knew about the immunities granted by virtue of her position and power

    This makes me realize that I have been talking too much about my own precious baby. Because I don’t think I told you that in this discussion. God, what a self-obsessed writer I am! Yuck. But no more. I’m going to control my self-centeredness! Here at SBTB anyway. *koff*

  31. Tonda says:

    it was like the characters only existed as a story, rather than having a life beyond what was written, if that makes sense.

    I don’t think my books are that tightly focused. I think it’s mostly external events that create the baggage people carry. The internal conflicts are responses to external forces.

    What I’m talking about avoiding are external plot devices that clearly only exist to force the two characters to be physically close . . . I’ve read a lot of books where I don’t see much of a relationship built, all I see is two people who like to shag and for reason X can’t go their merry way and shag someone else (must find treasure to save home; must revenge selves against bad bad person; have promised to pretend to be a couple for some—usually retarded—reason). At the end of the book I can’t really picture an HEA, because I don’t think these two people KNOW each other at all.

    I want to explore how attraction and lust blossom and morph into love and friendship. THAT’S the thing that I find interesting enough to keep me reading and writing.

    And like Vicki I’m obsessed with getting Candy and Sarah’s opinion of my book, and terrified at the same time . . . I’m prepared for bad reviews on Amazon (cause everybody gets them) but I’m afraid of my online buddies not liking it. Or of them pointing out some huge error or stupid plot twist that I’ve missed cause I’ve read and rewritten the thing a million times.

  32. Lydia Joyce says:

    >I’m interested in MOTN mostly because of the unusual setting, and frankly, I’m more inclined to buy your books because you seem really, really sharp and therefore highly unlikely to dumb down the story, which is an infuriating problem I’ve encountered time and again in romance.

    I swear upon…whatever it is a romance writer is supposed to swear upon *g*…that I do not and WILL not EVER dumb down a book I write.

    My biggest peeve as a reader is feeling like a writer doesn’t respect me—that she thinks I’m shallow, stupid, and into reading just for the sex or the kittens or whatever her particular niche appeal is.  If I ever, EVER treat my readers like that, I give my readers permission to slap me.

    I also do NOT cater to the idea that “most readers skim, so if you want to communicate with them, you need to have a very simple story line and repeat any point several times.  Oh, yeah, and very short paragraphs and sentences and small words help, too.”  My point of view is that if you want to read a book, you should READ the darned book, and if you don’t, then don’t.  I’m not going to change the way I write because some group people might only be reading the dialogue!

    (Besides, skimmers seem to like my books, inexplicably, because they make up their own story to fill in everything they miss from what I wrote, and since they make it up, they like it….  Not that it ends up ressembling my books in any way, but hey, they like it.)

    Oh, and if you end up liking MUSIC and end up reading my fourth book, I’m warning you—the heroine will NOT have pantaloons in the first sex scene because low class people didn’t wear them in 1864.  *g*

  33. cassie says:

    What I’m talking about avoiding are external plot devices that clearly only exist to force the two characters to be physically close . . . I’ve read a lot of books where I don’t see much of a relationship built, all I see is two people who like to shag and for reason X can’t go their merry way and shag someone else (must find treasure to save home; must revenge selves against bad bad person; have promised to pretend to be a couple for some—usually retarded—reason). At the end of the book I can’t really picture an HEA, because I don’t think these two people KNOW each other at all.

    Oh, plot devices.  Yes, I’m not fond of them either, for the reasons you’ve posted, especially if they make no sense, dumb down the characters or the story, or are very obvious plot twists without any character development.

    I guess it all goes back to how one uses the social restrictions or other historical influences, as Robin was saying.

  34. tisty says:

    haven’t had time to read all of the AAR thread (But must say that it is a very scary place to be!) or all of usbitches comments, though I will get back to them,

    BUT

    What i wanted to know is what if said historical writer knows what the facts are and then decides they would fuck with her story and dumps them.

    For exmaple,

    In a medieval romance playing havoc with the male clothing. The 1100 must have for a male was esentually a dress unless in battle. Now I’m broad minded, but I can’t imagine my alpha males pouncing about in a dashing dress. So I fib a bit. I know it a lie but… The same with females actually, in that I hate hats! that is strictly personal, but i also fudge that.

    so if I know I’m lying, does that make it OK!!!! (Please don’t bite me!!!!!)

  35. I confess that I’ve thrown books against the wall for historical inaccuracies, but really gets me are books where the hero and heroine sound hopelessly modern and they have names that no one in the regency or victorian era would have had. I don’t know any contemporary englishmen named Hunter or Blake, I sincerely doubt there were any in the 19th century. It also bothers me when they get details wrong that are incredibly obvious like having photographs during the regency or some such nonsense. One of the things I used to love about Susan Johnson’s historicals were her footnotes, where she explained why she took the liberties that she did. If only all authors were that honest.

  36. Lydia Joyce says:

    >She’s a Regency or Victorian heroine who wears breeches, or is a crack shot, or rides a horse like a man, or wants to run Daddy’s business? That’s all well and good, but she better differentiate herself from the 2,395,032 other heroines in Romancelandia who do the same, and if she’s a feminist type, then God forgive her (for all values of God = me) if at any point her opinions sound like they’ve been lifted straight from, say, Luce Irigaray.

    It’s not just that she wears breeches, is a crack shot, and wants to run Daddy’s business.  It’s that everyone around her goes, “Oh, how nice!  She’s so DIFFERENT!”  NO ONE (except some pickle-faced old aunt) ever judges her.  The hero never goes, “She’s a terror and a fright.”  “Hoyden” is a compliment.  And she strides around without her corset and everyone keeps inviting her to all the balls, her mother doesn’t lock her up, and her father doesn’t send her to a strict German covenant school or call in the doctor.

    I find most of these things to be, too often, replacements for good characterization.  Want a strong heroine?  Put her in breeches!  Want a smart one?  Make her want to run Daddy’s business!  Then she can run around and be as featherbrained as any heroine has ever been and it won’t matter because she WEARS BREECHES and therefore she smart and strong and progressive even if she has to be rescued from her own idiocy (“feistiness”) half a dozen times before the book is over.  I believe that a sheltered girl who is out of shape and terribly sheltered can end up being far stronger than ten “hoydens” of this brand.

    I’m not trying to harass you, Victoria—I haven’t read any of your work, so you could handle this beautifully—but this is what I see far, far too often.

    The author often never stops to ask why on earth the heroine would WANT to wear breeches.  Oh, sure, today, women’s lib = pants, but in 1807?  It would never have that meaning to a girl then, just liek walking around topless in pulic (because men do it) wouldn’t mean that to 99.99% of women now!  Breeches would mean theater actress, if not madwoman.  Sure, she can think that it’s *easier* to ride in breeches…  But that would be like a modern woman thinking, “Boy, it sure would be better to weed the front flowerbed naked.  I always get dirty anyway, and then I can wash off really easily!”  It just doesn’t work.  Besides, the girl would have been brought up to ride sidesaddle—why would she think of riding astride at all?  She might calmly ride the hero into the ground while riding sidesaddle, but she doesn’t need to ditch the dress to be a strong woman.  That’s applying modern associations where they just flat don’t make SENSE.

    That said, it can work—if taken in the appropriate social context.  THEN CAME YOU by Lisa Kleypas is an excellent example.  The heroine there is reckless, has a trashed repuatation, runs in the fast set, is skirting the demimonde—and she rides astride to build on that reputation, and so it WORKS.  She doesn’t wake up one morning and go, “I’ll be a progressive woman and ride astride!”  It is a part of a very carefully patterned behavior of self-flagellation—she knows the social implications and she doesn’t laugh them off as silly but deliberately faces them.  And it is wonderful.

  37. >>but I can’t imagine my alpha males pouncing about in a dashing dress. So I fib a bit.<

    <

    Well, I’d never give my hero a pageboy, I promise you that. *wink*

    As to the stray error, personally I give writers a little slack. (Not that any of you need to.)

    Ego for example. There’s a difference between not doing your research and just having no concept of a word’s origins. Let’s face it, none of us actually lived in that time, and it probably wouldn’t even be a blip in some writers’ heads that ego would be anachronistic. Many of us have never taken Basic Psych.

    I once ran into this with “replay”. As in, “He replayed the conversation in his head.” CLEARLY not a nineteenth century word, but thank God it occurred to me right then, because it wasn’t dialogue and I might never have noticed it in a re-read.

    God, that would have sucked if it had gotten into print. *shudder*

  38. >>Sure, she can think that it’s *easier* to ride in breeches… But that would be like a modern woman thinking, “Boy, it sure would be better to weed the front flowerbed naked.<<

    HAHAHA No offense taken. I’m still laughing. Hee.

    Oh, shit, I’m going to talk about my book again. Blame it on Lydia!

    The heroine is, in fact, ruined and that was the original title of the book. She’s as far gone as she can get. In exile on her brother’s estate. BUT she’s also an heiress and the sister of a duke, so she’s not exactly powerless and she’s also pretty indulged. So she embraces her reputation and goes with the scandal and pushes it even further. I’d never try to protray her as socially acceptable. Never.

    So is it a trick? A quick way of packaging her and giving the hero a very bad impression in the first pages of the book? (He doesn’t find it cute at all. He thinks she’s an utter whore.) *shrug* Maybe. But I also thoroughly enjoyed it. I guess I’m a naughty author. Naughty! (Oops. Those issues again!!!)

  39. tisty says:

    i know your pain victoria. I’ve bleed tears of shit over the use of words like focus. In our phorographic/video world it has a specific meaning, but did it always? And when did ‘scouting ahead appear? Ice box?? what is medieval swearing (ignoring the fact that they should all be speacking french any way!)???

    AHHHHHHHHHHHH

    I spend more time researching than writing! What there needs to be is a sight where you can type in what ever silly question you have (Medieval beds, ropes or board base???) and they give you the answer.

    And Tonda, My medieval characters never get to eat potatoes, or sugar, or corn. No I feed the poor bastards meat, Turnips, more meat, and for after’s a nice piece of meat. Oh and an apple if there teeth haven’t fallin out from vitiamin diffeciancies!

  40. Oh, shit. FOCUS?!?! I didn’t even think. . . Thanks a lot, Tisty! I’ve got to go do some research, and maybe a Find & Replace. *Please don’t be there. Please don’t be there.*

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