Jeri left a very wise comment in our discussion of the demise of the Bombshell line:
I wonder if they were operating on the assumption that heroines are the people we’d like to be, as opposed to the people we are (though I think a kick-ass heroine can be relatable if she has enough other weaknesses).
It illustrates the tension between readers wanting reality in their romances vs. wanting to live the fantasy. How many times do readers/authors say “But it’s just fantasy!” to defend a non-realistic portrayal of, say, men.
I tend to want to identify with the heroine, rather than aspire to be her. I like to see women who struggle with money, don’t always do the right thing, and sometimes choose men who aren’t gods on earth.
Romance as reality vs. wish fulfillment: SB’s, have we covered that topic already? I can’t remember if we did it other than in the context of condom usage.
So what about reality where the heroine is concerned? We get bristly at TSTL heroines, but is there an opposite end of the spectrum, where the heroine is too perfect, or too ass-kicking? How much fantasy do you want to enjoy in the portrayal of the heroine? Where’s the proper location in that stupid-to-perfect spectrum?
I’ve often thought that the fantasy male of a romance novel must be easier to create than the heroine, particularly if you think that the reader doesn’t identify with solely one or the other, but depends on both characters as a form of identification and wish fulfillment. And as I sit here thinking about what heroines I’ve liked the best, I have an easier time remembering which heroines I’d like to kick in the ass, as opposed to the ones I admired or genuinely liked, particularly because I could appreciate them despite, or because of their flaws.
So I have to ask myself, is the heroine subject to harsher standards because women as so very well schooled in judging one another? What is the best-case-scenario for you with a heroine? Relatability? Fantasy?
I know I sound like a broken record, but it’s Laura Kinsale’s heroines I remember and love. I tend to remember the heroes and have a difficult time remembering the heroines. And as much as I love ST, Samuel, Ruck and Sheridian, I also love Leigh, Leda, Melanthe and Olympia. They are flawed, and they are wonderful.
Yes, and we call them Mary Sues.
For me, this problem is about identification. These books are about escapism, jumping into a different world. If they’re too damn perfect, how do I imagine myself as them?
I don’t like a heroine, or a hero for that matter, who is too perfect. They make me want to toss the book. For me, with heroines, it’s a little bit of both that I’m after. I’d like to be able to relate to the heroine and still have the fantasy. I want her to be kick-ass so I can be like “Wow, I wish I could kick ass like that!”, but I also want to be able to see her as a woman, not some ass-kicking machine. I want to see the little bits that make her something like me or women I know.
I hold my heroes to the same standard though.
I’ve enjoyed kick-ass heroines ever since as a teen I read C.L. Moore’s 1930’s fantasy, “Black God’s Kiss”, featuring Jirel of Joiry. In doing research for my pirate novels, I ran across more kick-ass real life women than you’d believe, women who disguised themselves as soldiers and sailors, or who fought openly as women, so I’ve never had a problem with reality of the kick-ass ideal.
Even in today’s world I know women who are tough by anyone’s standards. Heck, one of my buds married his bodyguard. He was on a state committee investigating organized crime and needed a bodyguard who would give him a good cover story, and since he was a good looking bachelor, they fixed him up with a “date”, a sweet southern lady with big hair, big attitude, and a big gun.
Sometimes life is stranger than fiction. Incidentally, after they married she continued to work in her field, and now heads a major security outfit.
So kick-ass heroines are just fine with me.
Whoever said “kick-ass heroines” have to be Mary Sues? What made Buffy such a good show was that despite her superpowers, she still had the problems of every teenage girl in high school.
I think the problem of “kick-ass heroines” is that we automatically assume that they’re Mary Sues. Maybe because some of the earliest “kick-ass heroines” were, like Emma Peel, male fantasies in the way that heroes in romance are female fantasies.
My favorite book as a child was Patricia McKinley’s “Hero and the Crown.” Aerin was a dragon slayer, but she was also picked on by the other kids, and was generally seen as a nuisance and a bastard child by the royal court. She was a kick-ass heroine, but when it came time to face the dragon, she got hurt. Mary Sue, she was not.
I grew up enamored of sci-fi movie chics, specifically Sigourney Weaver’s Ripley, Linda Hamilton’s Sarah Connor and Carrie Fisher’s Princess Leia. But all of them had a supporting cast to aid in their ass-kicking and, in some cases, serious weaknesses or hang-ups that prevented them from being too perfect. As a 10-yo watching them save their men, repeatedly, I formed a distinct impression of how to behave and what feminine role I should aspire to.
I want capability from heroines – not perfection. I want strength and that she never wusses out in favor of shitty female manipulative tricks. But I require a little window of human frailty just so I can relate – and for romance, that little window is useful for the hero to crawl through…
Some of my favorite authors like PC Cast, Eloisa James, Sandy Blair and Katie Macalister have characters that are not perfect but are endearing in some way.
I like that they have the same flaws that we all have or can identify with.
In Eloisas books there is a lack of that catty women jealous of each other so they are bitchy and mean. Frequently she has the female characters become friends and support each other through life.
There must be a balance between strengths and weaknesses. The authors i read tend to do that very well.
Toodles
Susan
Well, I will point out that it’s not like there are a dearth of ultrafeminine pretty-as-a-princess, infinitely virtuous, infinitely patient Mary Sues in Romancelandia whose sheer wonderfulness tames not only the hero, but also her brothers, the other townsfolk, and various woodland creatures she meets along the way, so I think it’s to each her own when it comes to labeling which sub-genre of romance has the most Mary Sues.
As for what Alua said, that goes for me too: I *do* very emphatically differentiate ‘strength’ from ‘perfection’, and just because a heroine is physically strong, that doesn’t make her unbeatable. Often times, it just brings her emotional struggles to the forefront, and allows the author to tackle both complicated emotional and simple, archetypally comforting good-guy/bad-guy stuff all at once.
I’ll agree that it’s no fun to read a heroine who’s kickass, knows what she wants, and gets it all the time, but there is a lot a physically strong heroine has to offer. And I do think that depending on who you are, and where you are in life, those heroines can be easier or harder to relate to – certainly as a single woman in a male-dominted field (engineering) I empathize better with someone who is one of the few women on her job, has to ‘run with the boys’ even when it’s inconvenient, and needs to balance her need for independence and with her desire for companionship in her private life more than I do with your average single mom/victorian lady/up-and-coming pastry chef. I think it’s really just a matter of taste, but I’m far more likely to throw a book across the room if the heroine is an overly saccharine twerp than if her high kicks are just a little bit implausible.
I think we want to forgive in our heroines the flaws we see in ourselves – perhaps in part because we want to know those flaws *are* forgiveable. And since it *is* fiction, it’s much easier to jump all over the heroine when we find we ARE smarter than her in certain areas. In a sense heroes have it easy because all they have to do is be hot, respect the heroine, and not step on the readers’ toes; part of the romance fantasy is that the hero CAN be shaped by the heroine, and at the end it’s implied that he’s willing to do whatever it takes to make the heroine (and by corrolary the reader) happy. But the heroine has to walk a much finer line in that she has to be flawed (and therefore relatable) but not in a way that’s annoying, or in a way that means her victory is stumbled upon instead of earned.
I do think women judge other women more harshly, BUT, if the standard is a heroine that the female reader can relate to, musn’t we expect a pretty diverse judgment regarding fictional heroines? After all, I think we might relate to different things, or, at least, relate in a positive way to different things. Because how many of us really—honestly—are anxious to identify with certain aspects we are uncomfortable with in ourselves in Romance heroines?
I think this is where the idea of a heroine on relates to begins to intersect with a heroine one aspires to or admires, at the very least, because the fantasy element of Romance often converts certain so-called negative aspects of a heroine’s character in the process of winning her One True Love. For example, a heroine who is insecure about her appearance may be relatable to a whole lot of women, but maybe the extent to which any particular reader is willing to relate in a postive way to that “weakness” depends on the extent to which the heroine gets affirmation and a HEA despite her insecurity. If she didn’t get that affirmation, would the insecurity be so attractive as a quality a reader would relate to?
This is where I think things get sticky—in that realm of characteristics that don’t necessarily directly pertain to the happy ending. For example, what about the debates over virginal or experienced heroines. Is a sexually experienced heroine more acceptable to readers if she’s somehow “cleansed” of the “indiscretions”? If an author simply creates a heroine who is sexually experienced, however, without apology or without making it a focal point of the HEA relationship, is that quality more or less relatable to certain readers? How about a heroine who has elements of selfishness or avarice or any of the other qualities the overwhelming majority of human beings possess? If the author simply writes a character without judgment or without an issue around these qualities, are they less tolerable to a large number of readers? I personally sense sometimes that less than stellar qualities in heroines are more “relatable” when they are transformed by the love of the hero or the acquisition of a HEA—that is, when the heroine earns her way out of them (and don’t even get me started on the extent to which I think Romance makes the heroine earn her HEA).
Oh, wow, there are at least two Robins here now. I’m the long-winded one.
I love that book too; it might be my favourite McKinley (although it’s Robin McKinley (maybe you were also thinking of Patricia McKillip?) 🙂 ). I think it works even better if one reads “The Blue Sword” first because that’s were we meet Aerin as a legend. And then we see that she wasn’t a legend in her own time, as you describe. She also had to practice and train to become a kick-ass hero and made mistakes along the way; her strength/magic/powers are also limited, which I think makes it more believable (dragons and such notwithstanding).
I think Dana Stabenow’s Kate Shugak is another great kick-ass (and non-magical) hero. She’s somewhat of a living legend – because she can kick-ass and get things accomplished – but is also very human. She’s extremely competent and doesn’t do TSTL things, but sometimes ends up over her head and needs help from others. She doesn’t suddenly grow magic muscles or special abilities to be able to get herself out of any situation.
I think the problem isn’t the kick-ass hero, it’s the kick-ass hero who’s also perfect in every other way.
I wasn’t saying all kick-ass heroines were Mary Sues. I meant the ones that are “too” in all senses. Too perfect, too infallible, too too too. You’re right, Buffy was great because she was K-A and still had issues.
And in semi-related? I don’t like my heroines to be more K-A than my hero. Equal, yes, equal is fabulous and I love it. If the chick’s more butch than the guy? Nuh-uh.
To the other Robin:
Whoa – and just when *I* was about to claim the title of “long winded one” – although honestly, looking at our respective comments it’s kind of a toss up. It’s a lovely name, though, and I’m thrilled to see we have the same preferred spelling.
That said, in order to avoid (further) confusion, I’ll just go by Robin C. from now on. But for anyone looking to differenciate us, it looks like my comments have an email attached and yours don’t, so that should help people separate us.
-Robin C.
It’s a little like saying every woman with big boobs is a bimbo – always a bit tricky to apply one stereotype across a genre. To me, books, even those within a line, have to be looked at individually to judge whether or not the heroine is too anything. In Bombshell, there were a number of heroines who couldn’t fight their way out of a paper bag – where they excelled was within their gray matter. Were there any wimpy, dimwitted, unattractive, clueless heroines? Not that I know of – but then, are there any of those in romance land? The heroine’s gotta have something going for her, or she’s in an Oprah book and should kill herself immediately. A kickass heroine isn’t always about physical ability – it’s her attitude, that she can take care of something, solve the crime, find the bad guy, whatever the case may be. She may also have issues with her family, or her looks, or that she’s a vampire (yes, there was one of those Bombshells.)
But perhaps I’m hypersensitive right now, because to my mind, a very great line of books – different reads – are about to be gone. So we’re back to rich alpha males and detectives and cowboys and the women who love them. That’s great – but the death of variety seriously sucks. I feel like Bombshell never had a real shot.
I think the dividing line for me is whether the heroine is liked by the other characters despite her failings and weaknesses, not because of them.
I don’t like Mary Sues either (with note that MarySuedom is in the eye of the beholder), but I do love kickass women. I will never forget the magic I felt the first time Xena appeared on screen and I thought, “Holy crap, someone’s done it right. She kicks ass and this is not considered weird by the people around her.” (In contrast to Buffy, who was explicitly created as a response to cute little girls who get killed in horror movies. Don’t get me wrong, I love Buffy, too, but she’s “weird” and outcast for having her powers.)
Annnnyway… My biggest objection to, like 90% of the contemporary chick lit that crosses my desk is that the heroines are too often dippy, naive victims of the plot, and the other characters love them for it. And by extension the author seems to expect the readers will, too. “Oh, she’s a twentysomething girl trying to make it in the Big City and find the perfect pair of shoes, too! Just like me! I love her!”
Too many authors seem to forget to show, not tell, that the character is an interesting, capable person. (It’s the difference between Margot Kidder’s Lois Lane and Kate Bosworth’s. Not that I blame the actresses for what is essentially a writing fault; it’s just a means to specify which Lois.)
My official standard has become the mention of any designer names. That seems to be part of what I imagine as the How To Write Chicklit checklist:
1. protagonist is 24-year-old in entry-level or slightly-above-entry-level clerical-type job.
2. she is dumped by boyfriend or discovers he was cheating on her with a real ho-bag.
3. she has a best friend who is described as “quirky” or at least dresses very weird. Sibling may stand in for same. Actual quirk factor not very high, or at least not very well characterized.
4. Mention of Manolo Blahniks or Jimmy Choos, even though they are so five years ago.
…and at that point I put the book down. I expect there is a charming, funny, wealthy, professional guy coming along soon to participate in a bunch of hilarious misunderstandings before sweeping her off to marriage and babies, but I’ll never know because I can’t get past the damn shoes.
Er, yeah, I didn’t really mean that to turn into a rant, but seriously, the shoes kill me. I am a native NYer, and every time I see a woman with her pointy designer heel snagged in a subway grating, I laugh my ass off.
I agree with what others have said- it isn’t that she’s KA, it’s that she’s perfect and never loses. My fave KA heroine would have to be Eve Dallas from J.D. Robb’s In Death series- she’s such an emotional mess. She gets stronger through the series by becoming more vulnerable, and I root (and relate) with every chance she takes.
If it’s well done, I like me a beta hero. I don’t mind reading about a man that will cook dinner, give a nice massage and listen to the heroine with interest when she talks about her long day of ass-kicking. Now granted, maybe that crosses over into the realm of fantasy v reality [g] but I think manliness comes in many different packages. A man who likes to cook and who’s a good listener doesn’t get written off my do-me list. There’s a difference between considerate and weak.
A prime example of this is the hero of Patricia Gaffney’s To Love and to Cherish. I don’t think I’ve ever read a beta hero more beautifully realized. The alpha males are hot and all but my fantasy man is more along those lines, someone who helps around the house and doesn’t think he’s too macho show emotion. Mind you, it can swing too far the other way [RE: when Jennifer Anniston got Bruce Willis to “open up” on Friends.
Just don’t get me started on a gamma hero; I can’t seem to get a straight answer as to what that even is!
“I will never forget the magic I felt the first time Xena appeared on screen and I thought, “Holy crap, someone’s done it right. She kicks ass and this is not considered weird by the people around her.â€
YES! It’s going to be interesting watching the little girls who grew up watching Xena.
And Xena is a good example of kick-ass but human—her story is about redemption for her past screwups and her love/hate relationship with Ares and a whole bunch of other interesting stuff—different levels, for kids or adults. Really exaggerated stunts, but hey, this is the land of Mythologia…
“YES! It’s going to be interesting watching the little girls who grew up watching Xena.”
Me, I’m with Lia on this. I can’t wait to see all those Buffy and Xena and Cleopatra 2525 (ahh, yes, remember this one?) girl-fans and the look of loss in their eyes as they search futilely for that kickass heroine who’ll smack the hero upside the head…and only finding the soft, gentle creatures who let the hero turn them onto his knee for a deserving smack on the derriere. That book, I swear to god, I threw at the wall. Actually threw it! I can live with bodice ripping (hey, it can be fun), I can tolerate the bee-stung-lipped-nymph, but I can’t take a “hero†who thinks he can put the heroine on his knee and “punish†her. It just crosses too many lines, one of them being ew-inducing kiddie sex.
But, man, do I digress.
I mean to say that one imprint/book line of ass-kicking females disappearing is a sad thing for me and one step closer to the hero’s knee, if you ask me.
No one did but that’s okay.
Equal, yes, equal is fabulous and I love it. If the chick’s more butch than the guy? Nuh-uh.
Sorry to pick on you, but K-A also doesn’t necessarily mean butch. I think traditionally feminine occupations and qualities and attitudes a teacher, or a doctor can be just as Kick ass as Buffy. It’s a matter of making sure that the definition of K-A is not simply limited to physical strength or traditionally male definitions.
You wanna see Kick Ass women? Talk to NYC public school teacher and they’ll show you what it means to be tough.
I’ve enjoyed the discussion, because I confess I have never been able to stand romance heroines who have to be rescued. This colors the kinds of romance novels I’m likely to select for our own line—not that we have one, although I’m thinking about it.
Hey, I could have a contest—name the Zumaya romance line. Hmmm…
What WOULD you call a romance imprint with feisty heroines, plenty of fun and heroes you might actually meet “not really by chance” some enchanted evening?
I’ll think of a prize in a bit.
I personally love a woman who kicks ass. But then again, I was always the chick outside with the guys taking off brake drums while the other girlfriends sat inside giggling, so I’m probably the wrong person to ask.
I do agree Mary Sues are out. Everyone loses sometime. I also hate it when she’s strong, capable and kickass—UNTIL she meets the hero. Then she turns into a total clueless, useless, whining dingbat who follows him around like a lost puppy.
I have a problem with heroines who are too strong and too perfect in the ass-kicking. I’ve been in the military, and no woman has the same strength as a man. No matter how tough or athletic they were. Men are biologically built to be stronger than women.
So, my problem is when the heroine consistently outperforms the men. She’s a better fighter, she can ‘hold her own’ against these hulking bad guys. I’d rather have my kick-ass heroine struggle with trying to beat these guys, when maybe she just can’t perform how she wants to. And this annoys the crap out of her and frustrates her.
What I liked about Sarah Connor in T2 is that we knew how weak and helpless she was in the first movie….and she became strong out of terror. She was not there to prove that a woman was just as tough as a man. She was scared that she would be attacked and killed by a psycho robot. That would motivate me to at least TRY to defend myself.
I can understand that type of motivation.
Sydney from “Alias” was strong from the very beginning of the show, but, if you remember, her motivation to be SUPER kick-ass was the horrible death of her fiance. And when did you really root for her? When she was strutting off in that pink wig ready to wreak some vengeance for the baddies killing her man.
I would like a kick-ass heroine who has vulnerability, who knows she can never quite measure up (physically) to the bad guys all the time, who tries her hardest to be what she wants to, but never quite gets there. That is a woman I could believe in and root for.
I have to side with Lou Grant on this issue. (Remember the old “Mary Tyler Moore Show”? Remember the classic line he utters after telling Mary she has spunk?) “I HATE SPUNK.”
Truly, I am bloody gagging sick to death of endlessly capable and “gutsy” heroines with idiotic names who ALSO excel at snappy repartee and flirtation, have perfect bodies and faces, are peerless in performance of their (usually exotic) jobs, never tire of sex—in fact, have memorized the Kama Sutra—and do a lot of flouncing in between their ass- kicking. Oh, Jesus, get them away from me! How can a real woman possibly relate to these caricatures?
I’m just as sick of “alpha males” (who dreamt up that dumbass term, anyway?)
I like quirkiness, vulnerability, the occasional self-doubt and error in judgment. Believing that love always prevails, complete sexual compatibility and simultaneous orgasms are not pipe dreams, and life can indeed be wonderful require all the suspension of disbelief I can muster. Throw perfect people into the mix…and I’m heading for the tv.
is the heroine subject to harsher standards because women as so very well schooled in judging one another?
Probably. Lots of readers love the “anti-hero,” the dark, brooding guy who needs a walk-in closet to fit all his skeletons.
But an anti-heroine? Can anyone even name me one of those in fiction since Scarlett O’Hara? I don’t mean a woman with a slutty past who weeps with regret over every real and imagined sin and who just needs a good man to redeem her. I mean, a chick who’s been a bad girl and is maybe only sorry for about 20% of it.
I’m writing one in my WIP who’s led a pretty colorful life. She’d be called ‘fast’ I guess and she’s only sorry for one thing—that she married one of the men she slept with. 🙂 The rest she sees as a hell of a lot of fun.