Laura Kinsale sent us a link to a rant she wrote on her own BB, wherein she discusses political correctness clashing with her desire and goal to write a good story.
Kinsale’s frustration is with readers who expect enlightened heroes (read: not ‘old fashioned’ alpha heroes) but bemoan the lack of good stories:
I read a lot—a LOT—of reader commentary on the various romance sites regarding things like alpha heroes and “rape” and “forced seduction” and how all that is so 1970’s (or 80’s or 90’s, take your pick depending on your age) but we’re all enlightened modern women now and we just don’t like that sort of thing. Then in the next thread will be complaints that the genre just isn’t as compelling or interesting as it used to be and readers can’t find books they really enjoy, and gee, why are all the heroes vampires now?
The trend, as she calls it, of self-conscious political correctness in romance is somewhat stifling to Kinsale as a writer, and a recent review in Salon gave her the context to express what had been irritating her.
The book being reviewed was a discussion of eroticism and emotional intimacy in real-world marriages, but when applied to romance protagonists, the discussion takes on different significance:
Erotic desire, Perel argues, thrives on mystery, unpredictability and politically incorrect power games, not housework battles and childcare woes…. “The challenge for modern couples,” she writes, “lies in reconciling the need for what’s safe and predictable with the wish to pursue what’s exciting, mysterious, and awe-inspiring.”
Kinsale writes: “It sometimes begins to seem to me that a goodly percentage of present day romance readers are actually frightened of reading about a real conflict in a book.” Moreover, “Romance IS an erotic genre. And Perel has pointed out the elephant in the room: Erotic desire…thrives on mystery, unpredictability and politically incorrect power games.”
Kinsale argues that readers have become self-conscious about their own erotic fantasies, and the genre itself has been divided into two camps: the “safe Regency settings” that provide emotional depth, while “the erotic drive has been channeled over to vampire and fantasy books where realism is a non-issue,” leaving folks who prefer neither to complain that there’s nothing to read.
This long-ass summary of a really thought-provoking rant caused me to turn to my husband of six years and ask, “Can you have your emotional security cake and hump it too?” He of course, had no idea what I was talking about but was pleased that I’d mentioned both “cake” and “humping.”
I don’t know in all honesty what I think about the idea of the divide of the genre, or the idea that readers don’t want to read real conflict. But I do have to wonder about the idea that erotic desire “thrives on politically incorrect power games.” Is erotica as a genre then a subversion of current standards of societal correctness, particularly in America where we can watch ten men get shot before 9pm eastern but God forbid we see a naked breast during prime time?
When I consider the responses to our discussions of heroes, heroines, and plotlines on this site, I haven’t necessarily read a great deal of shunning of the alpha hero, though our discussion on rape scenes in romance was long and infinitely absorbing, even as most of those commenting on the topic agreed it was a cliche that was better left in the past. but are we uncomfortable with conflict and sexual power plays in romance, unless they are shelved under the erotica genre?
I’m still formulating my reaction, to be honest, but Kinsale’s rant gave me a lot to think about in terms of erotica, romance, and expectations of the genre. And I very much want to read what you think.
There are plenty of novels available that have strong relationships, romantic elements and no promised happy ending. You’ll find them in Fiction.
Romance is a genre, and genres have constants and frameworks. If I’m writing a Mystery, I’m going to have a puzzle or crime, clues, suspects, and a resolution which solves the mystery.
If I’m writing a Romance, I’m going to have a love story, sex or sexual tension, internal, external conflict or both, emotional commitment and a happy ending. Which doesn’t mean a wedding or a brood of babies. It means the lovers are together, in love, and commited to each other.
I don’t understand why someone would feel the HEA needs to go or be ambiguous in order to create more diversity within the genre. There are plenty of ways to twist and turn and build on that framework without removing one of its main supports.
The genre doesn’t have to deny itself its main structure in order to be creative—it’s the writers who’re responsible for making the story fresh, compelling and creative. And who must do so by understanding and appreciating the reader’s expectations for the genre.
As for the reader who wants to a story without that structure, there are plenty of choices outside of Romance that offer it.
I’d like to see romance where the relationship is the central focus—but there is no guarantee of a happy ending, no guarantee that you won’t be disturbed or saddened or angered by what you read.
I love this, but aren’t these books called general fiction? Even women’s fiction? Or is the romance in the periphery in most of these? Pondering …
“thinking37” <—spam foiler
Oops. Cross-commenting with Nora!
I’d like to see romance where the ~relationship is the central focus—but there is no guarantee of a happy ending, no guarantee that you won’t be disturbed or saddened or angered by what you read. I mean, one of the very coolest things about reading is that it gives us the opportunity to challenge our own ideas with little to no consequence. And, honestly, I think that’s what is often missing from the romance genre.~
It’s missing from the Romance genre, because without it, it ISN’T the Romance genre. It’s Fiction, or Women’s Fiction or possible Chick-Lit or maybe Erotica—depending on the elements contained in the story.
Genre=a category of artistic, musical or literary composition characterized by a particular style, form or content. Webster’s.
If you want a romantic novel, that’s different. If you want a Romance novel, you want one of a particular style, form or content—as it’s a genre—and that includes the constant of a HEA.
Writers and readers are free to go outside the genre if the desire to create or to read outside the genre form is a factor.
I read lots outside the genre, and I wager the majority who post here do, too. But if I’m reading or writing Romance, I understand the framework, and the constants of the genre that comprise it.
It’s such a fluid genre, easily accepting elements from every other area of fiction—as long as the constants are maintained. From the bodice rippers of the 70’s, to the H/S early traditional categories, to romantic suspense, comedy, meledrama, paranormal, fantasy, sf, contemp, historical, futuristic, erotic romance. It flows and it absorbs—inside the genre framework.
If you’re not satisfied by what’s out there under the Romance umbrella, on any of its varied spokes, it may be the fault of the writers. We’re not finding enough fresh ways to address those constants or creating characters compelling enough that you’re pulled into their story.
Or it may be that you need to step out from under the umbrella for awhile.
For me, explicit and erotic are opposites. I think it’s true that romances have become increasingly explicit to compensate for the declining eroticism because of the lack of a significant power struggle between hero and heroine.
“Power struggle” does not equate to RAPE. Rape is one sided. Power struggle means there is a struggle between two strong characters. Romance heroines today often are very, very, very wimpy. The hero gets tamed by the power of her perfection. Geez, how dull, for me.
Think of Sam and Diane in Cheers. That is a power struggle. Watch any old movie and you will see the hero and heroine at odds right up till the end. (Have you seen “It Happened One Night”?) Think of Princess Leia and Han Solo. They’re downright insulting to each other. It’s sexy. That’s what’s being lost. Two characters who can dish it out and take it.
I’m not attracted to wimps and I’m not terribly nice and sweet to every man I meet. Everyone’s different and more power to the people who aren’t like me, but for me, yes, there is a power struggle inherent in sexual attraction and it’s just human nature not to surrender yourself without a fight. Why does the discussion have to be reduced to the lowest common denominator (rape)?
For those of you who oject to bebe’s formulation, are you objecting to 1) the guarantee of an HEA or 2) her point about having no guarantee that you won’t be challenged by what you read. Because IMO those are two VERY different things.
Although I don’t believe the HEA is definitionally required by Romance (albeit expected by many readers), I’m willing to accept the HEA if I can only have some more ambiguity, thoughtfulness, provocative themes and characters and issues, complexity, moral contemplation, and subversion in my Romance. I don’t like absolutely EVERYTHING to find a neat little resolution, even in Romance. I realize not every reader is like that, but for me, anyway, entertainment and thinking are not mutually exclusive (except, of course, if I’m thinking about school or work or the Middle Eastern crisis).
~For those of you who oject to bebe’s formulation, are you objecting to 1) the guarantee of an HEA or 2) her point about having no guarantee that you won’t be challenged by what you read. Because IMO those are two VERY different things.~
The HEA. I think many books in the genre challenge or have challenged the reader. But that reader, when selecting, specifically, a Romance novel, knows the framework, knows she will get a HEA. She doesn’t know how the writer, and the characters, will take her there.
And the HEA is, absolutely, a definitive constant of the genre. Whether it’s subtle or overt, complex or by that point simple depends entirely on the writer—and always most importantly—the story.
You don’t have to accept the HEA. You simply have to accept that in Romance, the genre of Romance, you’re going to get it.
In the early 80’s Silhouette opened, hoping to revolutionize category Romance. They did. But they did so by twisting the category framework—maintaining that framework—but Americanizing it. The constants remained constant.
If in my the first book of my current trilogy where I killed off a sympathetic character, I’d chosen to kill off the hero, I would have betrayed the genre and the reader expectation thereof. If I had needed to do so, story-wise, then I would, without question, have made it as clear as I could, in as many ways as I could, that this book was NOT Romance.
If you don’t have the HEA, the story slides off that umbrella of Romance into another area. And that’s fine.
I guess I don’t understand why any reader, dissatisfied with the framework, the form, the constants of the genre feels the genre itself should adjust for her needs, rather than she seek her satisfaction in another area of fiction.
Robin, for me it’s the first. I need some sort of happy ending to be satisfied myself with the romance.
In fact, and as long as the conflict is realistic in my eyes, you can make the protagonist go through as many and as high hoops as you want. Give me all the intensity you want, all the grittiness you want, and as long as I know there will be a happy ending, I’ll be happy myself. The perfect example of this is, again, Cry No More by Linda Howard. Or for more realistic obstacles and conflict, something like Flowers from the Storm, by Laura Kinsale. Justine Davis has a couple of old categories in which the hero is handicapped (Left at the Altar, The Morning Side of Dawn). Suzanne Brockmann has one too (Frisco’s Kid). I don’t want the author to shy away from the realities of life, but I do want to know, when I start a romance, that the protagonists will find happiness—preferably the kind that lasts.
But to make me love these people just to leave them hanging? I, personally, can’t take it. (My one gripe with Joss Whedon’s Serenity is about Wash, to give you guys an idea) That, incidentally, is why I can’t read Nicholas Spark’s books. Beautifully written or not, romantic as hell or not: they are too sad for me. Casablanca is a wonderfully romantic movie, but it is more romantic fiction than romance, IMO.
Here’s where I’m coming from on the HEA debate: when Jan Butler came forward arguing that by definition Romance was about one man and one woman, the RWA definition was forwarded as rebuttal. So now, when I argue that Romance does not, by definition, require an HEA, and I put forward the RWA definition, which only requires an “optimistic” and “emotionally satisfying” ending, I’m guilty of torquing the genre to fit my own requirements? No offense, but I have a problem with that.
In my opinion Romance as meant today does require a HEA. That is what separates it from general fiction or chicklit. I know Katie MacAlister warned her readers that her Aisling Gray series should not be considered romance but more adventure/paranormal because each book most definately does not end happily/more like a cliff hanger.
In regard to an earlier post, if the hero murders the heroine he better have a pretty damn good explanation.
In regards to heros being asses, Mercedes Lackey’s The Fairy Godmother handles this really well. To teach the hero his lesson, he is actually turned into a donkey/ass. Pretty funny.
Heh. Well, it is Whedon. I figured something like that would happen, and I think it was necessary. Whedon has said that if there’s a sequel the entire cast will be part of it.
Um, nothing to add to the actual topic. Except that I’ve always thought that romance novels have an HEA, and that sometimes I like hopeful or ambiguous endings that are not entirely HEA. I’ll pretty much go with whatever fits the story.
I just don’t have time to read this entire fabulous discussion (work is calling…), so if I’m just repeating everyone, I apologize.
Ana, Tonda, Nora, Kerry, Lorelai—I think all of you have made fantastic points.
I was thinking about the term “forced seduction,” which I think is in itself a little misleading. Using the term “forced” automatically stacks the deck against the concept for most of us, I imagine, b/c it is laden with images of physical assault. “Force” implies total unwillingness, for me at least, on the part of the person being forced.
Seduction, however, automatically implies a certain (often psuedo-)reluctance on one side. If the other person was ready to go straight off, you wouldn’t need the seduction. The power plays are still there, if you’re into that. There’s definite persuasion. But persuasion means that the other person capitulates totally under their own power. So even when the seduction is more physical, when Character A has stopped struggling against Character B’s embrace and has started kissing Character B back, Character A is almost always responding in a way that says she’s willing, she’s ready to go, she’s not being forced, though it may look that way at first. (Unless, of course, she’s only trying to lower his defenses so that she can knee him in the balls. I like my heroines kick-ass, too.)
Does that make sense? I’m all about the seduction, but adding the term “forced seduction” just seems a little bit risky, as to me, at least, that’s just a veiled rape.
So now, when I argue
that Romance does not, by definition, require an HEA, and I put forward the
RWA definition, which only requires an “optimistic” and “emotionally
satisfying” ending, I’m guilty of torquing the genre to fit my own
requirements?
The RWA definition defines the genre for the organization’s needs only. They have no sway on what a publisher puts on the spine of a book. The organization doesn’t define the genre for the market. Readers do that, and readers (for the most part) want an HEA – which can run the gamut of “let’s see where this goes” to “let’s get married and have babies.”
Conflict? Yes, please, because there’s no story without it. To paraphrase, happy people are all alike; reading about a happy couple meeting, recognizing that they love each other, and proceeding smoothly to the romantic denouement would be, well, boring. I’d like to see them fighting the relationship, or each other, before the Grand Realization.
But a HEA? That requires a heavy investment in the fantasy, and I’m not always up to it. I’d rather read the “emotionally satisfying” ending. They’re less likely to have me thinking later, “Well, sure, they’re happy NOW, but wait until Real Life kicks in…” I want a realistic ending, and if that’s a wedding, fine, but if it’s a “see you next year”, then that’s fine, too.
Part of that is my preference for not knowing the ending of the book in advance. It lessens the pleasure of the reading for me, at least on a first read, to not be able to anticipate how the plot will work out. I much prefer the uncertainty of something that’s not predetermined.
And to be frank, I can only take so much “love conquers all” before I scurry back to other genres. Love doesn’t conquer all, at least not in my neck of the woods, and it gets depressing to read book after book that insists it should.
Like candy, or wine, or any rich/sweet food, it’s fine in moderate doses. But not as the whole diet. So *some* HEAs for me, but on the whole, I’d prefer something more “satisfying.”
I definitely get the point that a genre is defined- and needs to be defined- which is why I really don’t think you can have your cake and eat it too (i.e. we can’t define the genre and give authors absolute freedom at the same time). But you only have to whip out the OED to see that definitions themselves evolve. If the strictures of the genre become tedious—who says they have to stay the way they are? Of course, if they are just tedious to me—I know there are plenty of other choices out there. But there is a difference between reading general fiction and reading romance—and I like the difference. I just don’t like everything about the difference. That may be bending the genre to fit my needs, but aren’t the readers’ needs what make the genre what it is? They’ve got to be at least 50%. The other being the writers. You have to have both to make it work. Naturally, it would be the readers’ needs that fall into the majority that would actually get met. But it’s no reason for those of us in the minority to not speak up.
That being said. Maybe the real question is whether or not the genre would still exist were the HEA stricture to be removed. I don’t see why it wouldn’t. There is still a big difference between general fiction and romance without taking the HEA into consideration.
The RWA definition defines the genre for the organization’s needs only. They have no sway on what a publisher puts on the spine of a book. The organization doesn’t define the genre for the market. Readers do that, and readers (for the most part) want an HEA – which can run the gamut of “let’s see where this goes†to “let’s get married and have babies.â€
So if tomorrow readers (for the most part) say that they want only virgin heroines that’s the generic definition of Romance? Or how about readers saying that want only heterosexual relationships to account for Romance? Same rules apply? What about only white people falling in love? Or LIVING people (no more vampire Romance)?
I agree that reader expectations help shape a genre, but are you seriously arguing that a genre is defined by what the presumed majority expects? That seems even more unstable than the broad definition offered by the RWA. And I’m not sure what it means for a writer’s organization to have a generic definition only for “organizational purposes,” especially if one of the purposes of said organization is to represent the genre to the public (via the fascinating press packet they offer). Granted, I’ve found some of the ways in which the RWA does its polling to be a little whacky, but the RWA generic definition is the only formalistic one we seem to have—from the official Romance writers organization—such that even Wikipedia uses it.
What I personally like about the RWA definition is that while it comfortably allows for the HEA and is specific enough to exclude LOTS and LOTS of other types of fiction, it seems open enough that if the genre continues to evolve, a novel that focuses on the romantic love relationship but ends with anything less than HEA (and let’s keep in mind that HEA means happily ever after, which is a pretty high standard of happiness and perfection) can still formalistically be Romance. I don’t understand what’s so threatening about that, especially since I imagine that there will still be plenty of books written and published that will have that HEA. It seems to me that the central focus on the romantic love relationship has always been the core of the Romance genre, and that, coupled with an optimistic ending, is a clear enough definition of Romance to distinguish it from other genres.
One of the things I liked about SEP’s Ain’t She Sweet, is that in the Epilogue (I usually hate those, but she does something clever with hers) the narrator insists that Sugar Beth and Colin’s life was “good but not perfect”—because happiness did not come gently or easily to either of those characters, together or apart, and I appreciated that SEP honored what she has created for those two to begin with.
I used to want Laura Kinsale to write an epilogue to Seize the Fire that showed Sheridan and Olympia in their “happy” place—but as I’ve read more in the genre, I’m glad she ended the book where she did, because I think it suits the characters and the story. But you’d never convince me that STF ISN’T a Romance. IMO it’s one of the most romantic books I’ve read in the genre.
First, I have to say I agree completely with Bebe and Robin, especially on this:
“I’m willing to accept the HEA if I can only have some more ambiguity, thoughtfulness, provocative themes and characters and issues, complexity, moral contemplation, and subversion in my Romance.”
The reason why I’ve almost abandoned the romance genre is because everything is too safe, too plain, too linear, almost mechanical.
Yes, I want a story where I know there’s going to be a HEA, and I want a story where the relationship between H/H is the main focus.
But that doesn’t mean I want a tired repetition of the same plot devices and standard characters over and over again.
I can’t find what I want in FICTION because fiction is not giving enough space to the RELATIONSHIP (=love story).
And when I find one that actually does, it happens to be a saga that can’t even get regularly published in the US. (I’m referring to the Paullina Simon’s saga that starts with The Bronze Horseman).
I believe that what I want should be found in romance, not in FICTION. If what I want is essentially a love story, why shouldn’t I expect it from the romance genre? Isn’t romance about love?
The romance genre right now is choke full of limitations: historical limitations (the WW1 and WW2 period is forbidden), geographical limitations (why 90% of historicals has to be set in England?!), word count limitations (god forbid we don’t finish our book in one evening), PC limitations (and the issue is not only rape), and the list could go on.
The romance genre has so much potential, but I believe that too many people (editors, publishers, readers, authors) are simply killing it.
It IS possible to create romances like those described by Robin and Bebe, and still follow the 2 “great rules of romance” as defined by RWA.
If anyone wants to believe the opposite, I’d say this person is only trying to belittle and stifle romance as a genre.
And
I’m not sure what it means for a writer’s organization to have a generic
definition only for “organizational purposes,”
This was all discussed a couple of years ago when the first talks of defining were making the rounds. I don’t have time to search all the blog posts about it, and I don’t keep my RWR magazines, but it has something to do with the organization’s status as a non-profit and what that entails about what they offer and to whom, etc. A board member would have a real answer.
So if tomorrow readers (for the most part) say that they want only virgin
heroines that’s the generic definition of Romance? Or how about readers
saying that want only heterosexual relationships to account for Romance?
Same rules apply? What about only white people falling in love? Or LIVING
people (no more vampire Romance)?
Isn’t that what trends are? Vamps are here today and will be gone tomorrow, etc.? Majority rule? 🙂
Bowing out now because I have books to write!
Rant on, Laura Kinsale, rant on—even if I disagree with some of the particulars of your rant, particularly about political correctness. Do everything it takes to protect whatever it is inside you that inspires you to write your wonderful books. Please, avert your eyes from any posts on this site or any other that might cause you to dumb down your wonderfully complex characters or change in any way the books you’ve been writing. Keep giving me characters like Xenia and Allegreto and Jervaulx. Don’t think about the readers at all, if you don’t want to. Or scold them periodically, if you think they deserve it. I’ll put up with that, yes, even if we don’t see eye-to-eye, because I’m fascinated by the people you’ve created. I’m not looking in the pages of your books for the hero of my dreams or even someone who’s marriage material as I’d define it in 2006. What I’m seeking is an amazing character study of two really interesting, rather flawed people in love, and their interplay as they figure out how to make a relationship work.
As a matter of fact, I’ve often loved books where the relationship **didn’t** work, or the characters parted at the end. And yes, this means I don’t read as much in the genre as some true devotees. But when I find a writer in the genre whom I do like, I’m a very reliable sale every time she publishes a new book. It’s a Kinsale I’m after, not a romance. I don’t care where they shelve you. This reader’s buying by the author, not by the genre or the HEA.
So I’ll agree to disagree with some of your theories, Ms. Kinsale—some, though probably not all, but most definitely a good part of the theory that’s linked to here. But damn, I love your books. You believe whatever you need to believe, to get them written. And I’ll believe whatever I need to believe, to get by in this life. And I’ll keep buying anything I can find with your name on the spine, so long as the quality remains the same.
Wow, I came late to the party again, drat.
I’ve actually thought about this. Here’s my train of thought. Written sex scenes are boring when it’s just about sex, because, really who wants to read about two people just gettin’ on. I mean you have, we all have, and it’s dreadful. I usually just skip it. But when an author injects conflict into the sex scene… now that’s sexy. Because there’s actually something at stake… someone may lose, someone may lose, something has to change afterwards, it moves the plot forward, reveals something about character… This is what books are about—conflict. Why should sex scenes be exempt from that requirement? You wouldn’t plot a book with no turning points, no conflict.
On a side note: I’m not talking about rape scenes. I know that the rape thing is a poor way to express conflict, we know to much about its actual affects, and reconciling it involves preposterous convolutions, but personality driven power plays—I’m all for it, well, not full on BDSM, but more subtly…sure.
Okay, I’m going to do one more because I read Candy’s post and at first I thought you were spot on. Attributing this to PC sensibilities is totally off the mark. It reduces the whole discussion to differences of opinion rather than what it should be about: GOOD WRITING. Which could lead to your argument about homogeni.uflecting? Homogenizing? Oh, pass, you know what I mean.
I disagree with that. I don’t think that’s what it is. I think it’s this new trend to express woman power by having heroines treat sex as if it merited as much thought as accepting a dinner date.
If there’s nothing at stake, there’s no conflict, and the whole thing is boring.
But, I would like to ask—Is it just me? Is it because I’m forty? Am I just missing something? Do young women today think of sex as something to liven up a boring evening? Do young women actually behave like the heroines of Blaze, Temptation romances? Just fall into bed on a bet or a whim?
I mean sober.
There’s a clear and simple, albeit cynical, bottom line here: Readers get what they deserve. All the shrieking and sniveling in the world—by individual writers and/or readers and/or critics—is not going to change what publishers put out there. Once they determine, based on sales, that certain types of fiction elements—plots, characters, conflicts, etc.—have broad appeal, they’re gonna pump out the pap for which people are shelling out the biggest bucks and sweep the rest aside, smugly assuming the rest has little or no appeal or might even be repellant.
Any preference analyses that aren’t reduceable to dollars don’t realistically mean shit. So if you want to shake things up, put your money where your mouth is.
Isn’t that what trends are? Vamps are here today and will be gone tomorrow, etc.? Majority rule?
But aren’t trends different than rules? Rules are about can and can’t, while trends about about variations within a form. Right now we have multiple trends within the genre, but when someone says that Romance is defined by the HEA, and that the definition is based on what readers say, that’s a whole different thing, isn’t it?
This was all discussed a couple of years ago when the first talks of defining were making the rounds. I don’t have time to search all the blog posts about it, and I don’t keep my RWR magazines, but it has something to do with the organization’s status as a non-profit and what that entails about what they offer and to whom, etc. A board member would have a real answer.
Oh, I completely believe that there was a procedural element to the creation of a definition; after all, in order to be a constitutional democracy, the US had to go through the procedure of writing and ratifying a constitution. But there are also substantive aspects to it, at well (just like we don’t say that what’s written in the US constitution isn’t important); otherwise, why would it have been such a big deal that some folks wanted it changed to specifically limit the definition to m/f couples?
I realize that a lot of people don’t really pay attention to the formalities of generic definition, but coming from a Humanities background, I’ve found such definitions to be pretty important when it comes to classifying forms of literature. Sonnets, for example, have really strict formal requirements, while literary fiction doesn’t. But then again, a lot of people don’t even see lit fic as a genre, which may have to do with the lack of articulated formal limits. With so much hybridization of different genres (fantasy with Romance, sci-fi with mysteries, etc.), it will be interesting to see how—and if—generic defintions evolve. As far as I can tell, Romance is the only genre where the central focus is on a romantic love relationship, which IMO is what makes it essentially distinctive.
Whim? Not quite. “Wow, he’s yummy, I’ll take some of that” with no thought towards long term or even anything resembling a relationship? Sometimes. I ended up marrying one of mine. 😀
(P.S. I’ve found myself quite offended by some of the asides that have come up about the military and enemy combatants. We are not all scum. The actions of a few should not reflect on the rest. I used to be in the Army and I know a lot of soldiers and the vast majority are good men and women doing the best they can. Romance readers get pissed if we’re all categorized as brainless idiots, don’t do it to other groups.)
~It IS possible to create romances like those described by Robin and Bebe, and still follow the 2 “great rules of romance†as defined by RWA.
If anyone wants to believe the opposite, I’d say this person is only trying to belittle and stifle romance as a genre.~
I don’t think I’ve ever, by word, work or deed done anything to belittle or stifle Romance as a genre. Got a big, giant objection to this statement.
I maintain that the HEA is and always has been a constant in the genre—and by HEA, I maintain that the lovers are, at the end of the story, commited to each other, are together. It’s rare that I’d say an epilogue showing wedding bells or the baby boom to be necessary. I want the characters to convince me during the course of the story that they’re going to stick.
Perfect isn’t part of the deal, or one of the constants that frame the genre. Relationships aren’t perfect, and ideally, the characters would have shown they will love, they will stick despite imperfections. People do.
If you read exclusively or primarily Romance, odds are you will get tired of it from time to time simply because of the framework, and seek stories on another. And odds are you’ll come back to it from time to time because as a reader, you’ll want what Romance offers.
I’d wager that the `emotionally satisfying’ ending as defined by RWA wouldn’t include—for the vast majority of those who read and write it—one of the lovers dying, or the lovers parting at the end of the book.
I’ll point out that my books have Fiction on the spine, but are shelved in Romance. This, I’d think, goes right back to reader expectation, which goes in the largest part to defining the genre. The reader expects the constants of Romance in my books. How I work those constants, how I build on that framework is my job and my concern.
And yet… some of the most romantic tales have distinctly UNhappy endings, or at least endings in which the protagonists do not wind up together. The Ghost and Mrs. Muir. Truly, Madly, Deeply. Both end with separated lovers. Even (shudder, because it’s such a horror of teen stupidity) Romeo and Juliet. Or Titanic.
All of those (except R&J, of course) have the survivor continuing without the loved one, but the endings are considered appropriate, and yes, romantic. (Especially TMD, with Alan Rickman weeping at the window. *sniffle*)
So what we have is some people saying that a romantic, very romantic, story that validates the strangth of a loving connection is not necessarily Romance, right? Which blows my mind.
I’ll say first that if you’ve watched a movie or read a book, you can call it whatever you like. It’s your experience.
But while, say R&J, is romantic, it’s not a Romance. It’s a love story. More accurately a tragic love story. Those crazy kids.
TMD—just fabulous. I love this movie. It’s wrenching romantic, but essentially the story of how these two people—TMD in love—have to learn to move on. Gorgeous love story.
The Ghost and Mrs. M—not a favorite of mine, and I’ve only seen the movie. In that, they do go off together at the end. They’re just both dead.
Titanic? Why the hell didn’t she pull Leo onto that raft? Why the hell didn’t she donate that big, fat diamond to charity or something instead of tossing it in the ocean? Think of all the little children without shoes who could have been shod in kiddie Manolos. THAT’S a tragedy, imo.
All the above indicate to me that there are wonderful, romantic, well-done, love stories outside the genre to satisfy those who want the emotion, the romance without nec requiring the HEA.
So what we have is some people saying that a romantic, very romantic, story that validates the strangth of a loving connection is not necessarily Romance, right? Which blows my mind.
In the UK there’s the Romantic Novelists’ Association. They include writers of both romantic and romance fiction. In the UK it seems that there must be more people who prefer ‘romantic’ fiction than in the US, i.e. stories which are about romantic relationships but without the necessity for an optimistic ending for the 2 lovers, and maybe more sagas (i.e. ongoing stories focussed on the heroine’s life and loves). In the US, it seems that romance, as strictly defined by the RWA is more popular than it is in the UK. That’s just my impression from comparing what’s available bookshops in the UK with the lists of romances published in the US that I can see online, and from comparing the RNA with the RWA.
Something romantic can be tragic, but ‘romance fiction’ guarantees a happy feeling for the reader at the end.
~I maintain that the HEA is and always has been a constant in the genre—and by HEA, I maintain that the lovers are, at the end of the story, commited to each other, are together. ~
I think I haven’t made my point clear, and I’m sorry. What I meant is that even with a traditional HEA it is possible to get a romance such as described by Robin:
~if I can only have some more ambiguity, thoughtfulness, provocative themes and characters and issues, complexity, moral contemplation, and subversion in my Romance.~
or by Bebe:
~no guarantee that you won’t be disturbed or saddened or angered by what you read. ~
My point was never on the ending, but on the 400 pages that come before 😀
I’ve always read many genres of novels and still I had to abandon the romance genre because there was too much similarity between plots, characters and even writing styles and voices. Because of the limitations and the plainness I’ve written about in my previous post.
This is something I’d notice regardless of how many mainstream or literary novels I’ve read.
Reading other genres didn’t erase from my mind what romances usually are like. It’s that simple 😀
Actually, it’s reading FICTION that made me realize even more how the romance potential has been stifled. And again, my problem is not with the ending, but with the entire book.
Of course there are exceptions, but in my opinion they’re not enough.
I don’t think too much of, “Will readers like it?” when I’m writing. That doesn’t occur to me until it’s in my agent’s hands and I’m supposed to be writing something new. Even then, I can’t think of it much or it will torpedo my ability to move forward with the new project.
<styles and voices.
This can be applied to pretty much every genre. There will always be stellar writers in every genre that rise to the top and then a slew of imitators who ride their coattails. Look at sci-fi/fantasy (which is what I grew up reading). So much dreck over there, but so many gems as well. You just have to accept that if you’re reading genre fiction you’ll have to wade through some books that won’t please you to find the ones that will (of that’s been my experience, anyway).
The formula is isn’t the problem, mediocre writing and derivative plots are.
I took the rant to mean that being put under constraints keeps authors from being able to write the books they want. Should that be the interpetation…
A prime example is a book I just published. Bearing in mind I’m erotica/erotic romance, romance epress, which others have said do tend to be more relaxed.
The author wrote it originally with the heroine meeting a very nasty end—a harsh rape scene by the “establishment”. It fit the storyline—it’s a sci fi with a similar feel to 1984.
The previous publishers required the ending be changed. The new ending didn’t suit the story at all, or the writer’s style. It was certainly more PC, but not as good a piece of writing. The author had done a magnificent job with that scene in context with the story and getting into the heroine’s head, and it was a literal shame when it was replaced. You could SEE the cuts.
When she offered me the title, I told her I wanted the original ending.
She was fine with it, but told me I’d probably get a public flogging for pubbing it.
Another notch on my GSTH belt. I’m cool with that. I was told that by another author previously, and instead of being attacked by hate mail, it was a great seller.
I refuse to sacrifice good writing just because somebody might not like it. There are places I will not go, but I think if you gag writers from the start, you’re not getting their best work.
In a very long nutshell, if it’s good writing and truly has to do the with the story and isn’t just in there so people will go whoo-hoo, I think it should be at least considered. Even if it may squick some people.
In all honesty, I’ve seen freakier stuff going on in mainstream books. Anyone else remember the scene in Kiss The Girls involving the the warm milk and the snake? Hello.
However—knowing your market is a good thing to keep in mind. If you want to write a Regency and market it as a Regency, then you may have to accept those boundaries. If you want to write something else, find the right genre and hit it.
What is GSTH?
I’m sure my first guess is wrong. (Gay Superhero Tastes Hotdogs)
Tonda/Kalen said,
Precisely.
Probably because I read less volume—tight budget makes for highly selective purchases—my experience has been much more satisfying than that of many voracious romance readers. I have managed to find many more excellent (IMO—this is, after all, subjective) romance novels in which the writer has managed to push boundaries and break ground, all the while guaranteeing me a happy ending, as defined earlier by Nora Roberts:
By the way, I have been careful in this discussion to say protagonists vs hero/heroine, and happy ending vs HEA precisely because I don’t want cookie cutter, rose-colored glass perfection. I want more. And my favorite authors have so far delivered in spades.
spam foiler: ever46—think the universe is telling me something? 😉
Reference to a previous thread on here about those of us who belong to the Going Straight To Hell Club. I have my art department working on tees.
Ohhh! Yeah, I signed up for a shirt. I didn’t recognize the acronym. My next guess was Girl Scouts Take Hostages.
I’m sorry that you’ve felt offended, Lorie. Where have you seen any comments here suggesting that the military “are all scum” or that soldiers are scum? Any of us who have or do read Brockmann’s books can’t be military haters, can we (what a masochistic experience that would be!)? I agree completely with your characterization of most soldiers and respect anyone who is willing to give their life to defend this country.
But there are aspects of the “war on terror” that, as an American, offend and appall me. And then there is a veil of secrecy, an admonition not to talk about it, that, IMO, violates the most sacred thing about being an American, namely the right to political dissent that brought this country into existence in the first place (the Founding Fathers would have been hanged in Britain as traitors). The Congressional Research Service report on enemy combatants has expressed concern over the administration’s position on the Geneva Convention. Even the Supreme Court has weighed in on the “enemy combatant” issue (Hamdi v. Rumsfeld, 542 U.S. 507) with concern over how far the government is going. I actually felt some warm tinglies for Scalia after that decision, which, I can honestly say, has never happened before.
This politics business is no easy thing, but please understand that my criticism of certain actions of the military and the administration do not translate to a disrespect for the duties of the soldier. Quite the opposite in fact—but that’s a wholly different discussion.
~Anyone else remember the scene in Kiss The Girls involving the the warm milk and the snake? Hello.~
This was the last scene I’ve ever read by Patterson. Shut the book right there, never opened another. I know my limits as a reader.
~However—knowing your market is a good thing to keep in mind. If you want to write a Regency and market it as a Regency, then you may have to accept those boundaries. If you want to write something else, find the right genre and hit it. ~
Absolutely agree—just as I’d say if you want to read something else, do the same.
The genre doesn’t constrain good writing, good characterization. It doesn’t negate interesting conflicts or squeeze out complexity. All those things are up to the writer—and the demands of the story to be told.
Not all books—even maybe the bulk of books—published in any genre are going to be wonderful. And what’s wonderful is subjective, per the readers’ wants, mood, taste, expectations.
Mistress Stef, where do I send my money for the tee?
I’m a bit cross-eyed from 3 – or is it 4 now? – days of straight reading. Last count, I’m up to 12 books. All romances, all historicals, all Regencies. I won’t get into which ones, but it does strike me odd that the very best I read has a copyright of 1994. Twelve years ago. Not sure I’ve ever re-read a book, but damned if I don’t think I’ll pick this one up again in a few months and do just that, it was that good. (Loretta Chase – okay, so I’m behind a little…)
I read/skimmed a new to me author last night that would, I suppose, be considered a wallpaper historical. She incorporated a lot of history, however, so maybe not? I wound up skimming the second half of the book because it just wasn’t a satisfying read. To be frank, I was astounded that it got published. But it did, and this author evidently sells well, if her backlist is anything to go by.
The difference in romances, even within the same subgenre, is wide and varied. I’ve been thinking this morning about why the Loretta Chase appealed to me so much more than the book I read last night – in the context of LK’s essay. I guess I can sum it up by a food analogy – I seem to do that a lot. It’s like the difference between a five star restaurant and McDonalds. If you’re hungry, McDonalds will make you not so. But if you want an ‘experience’, something memorable, a feast for the senses, the five star joint is miles away from Mickey D’s.
On the face of it, these two books are very similar. Regency setting, high flying aristocrats, scandal, etc. The difference is all in the telling – Chase’s book was clever, the characters three-dimensional, the dialogue – OMG, the dialogue! – was fabulous. The sex scenes made sense – they fit with the characters. The other book? I wish I’d counted how many times I said, aloud, “Oh for God’s sake, you’ve GOT to be kidding me!”
Still, I can’t say that the Chase book pushed any envelopes, or that the hero and heroine were hugely different than those in other Regencies. So why the gigantic spread in my opinion?
It really is all about the writing. That’s not to say that I don’t agree with a large part of what Kinsale said. But to go a step further, if books are now held to a standard of current sensibilities – PC, if you have to go that far – it can still be an interesting, stay up until 3 a.m. to finish it kind of book.
I would therefore put forth the idea that there’s not so much a shortage of non watered down romances as there’s a perhaps a shortage of truly talented writers. That sounds harsh, and I don’t mean it to be, but really, with the number of romances published each year, can every romance writer pen a riveting, stay up all night read? Odds are, no.