Candy’s Note: Edited a couple of things for clarity. Bad blogger! No cookie!
Robin mentioned that one of my favorite authors, Barbara Samuel, posted an entry on Romancing the Blog about why readers should care about the RITAs. One of the reasons given is that “the RITA is the Oscar or Pulitzer Prize of romances novels.”
My immediate reaction was “HAHAHAHAHAHAHA,” closely followed by “What. The. Fuck.”
I don’t take the RITAs seriously. In fact, I don’t take ANY of the romance awards seriously. While the RWA has awarded the RITA to some books that were actually good, those works are few and far between. Of the books I’ve read from the complete list of RITA winners, I can count maaaaaybe ten books that actually deserved to win in their categories, most of them going to Barbara Samuel/Ruth Wind, Laura Kinsale and Jennifer Crusie.
And before y’all get all het up about how I’m being unfair, because “good” is entirely subjective, I’d like to point out there are plenty of objective standards to writing, which Beth pointed out with great verve and eloquence a little while back, and which I then expanded on in a much more silly manner. But if you don’t want to wade through those two long-ish pieces, here it is in short: I separate craft from personal preference. There’s what I think is genuinely good, and there’s what I enjoy reading, and sometimes the two don’t intersect, and that’s OK—not loving something that was technically perfect doesn’t make me a cretin, and neither does enjoying something that was sloppily made.
The RITAs? Like I said to Robin, the motto for the vast majority of the winners seems to be “Hi, we’re mostly competent. Mostly.†Even authors who have written genuinely good books, like Lisa Kleypas and Connie Brockway, end up winning for books that were sub-par.
I don’t treat the other awards in such a dismissive fashion. The winners of the the Pulitzer, Booker, Guardian, Whitbread, Hugo and Nebula awards have quite reliably provided me with excellent, entertaining reads. But most of these awards tend to skew towards the more literary end of the spectrum, which might make these rather unfair comparisons for the RITAs. That leaves the Hugos and Nebulas, which are genre fiction awards. So why do I perk up and take notice when I hear a book has been awarded the Hugo or the Nebula?
The only reason I can think of is the Geek Factor. My tastes are a lot more in sync with the average geek than they are the average romance reader, and geeks are more plentifully found in SF than romance, and geeks are the ones to vote on the Nebulas and Hugos. To be honest, the average SF/F novel isn’t written that much more skillfully than the average romance novel; however, I tend to find the ideas and plots in SF/F a lot more interesting, and I will forgive a lot of clunkiness if the story grabs me. Neal Stephenson is an example who immediately comes to mind; he does some absolutely maddening things with his prose and characters, but his stories are so compelling that they drag me along. I even find his massive infodumps fascinating, God help me.
So until mainstream romance tastes begin to align themselves more closely to mine (unlikely), or until romance novels start playing with prose, structure and medium in the same interesting ways that literary fiction does (even more unlikely, and frankly, not necessarily desirable), or until the RITAs stop awarding most of their prizes to the literary equivalent of Thomas Kinkade paintings (unlikely, but very highly desirable), I’m going to keep on blithely ignoring the RITAs as a source of good reads while keeping an eye out for recommendations by people whose tastes I tend to trust a bit more, like Beth, or Robin, or Evil Auntie Peril.
The Nebulas are voted by the members of SFWA, so some readers consider them a better indication of quality. However, a Hugo and Nebula award winning author told me once he’d rather have a Hugo, since it comes from his readers rather than his peers, and he believes that’s a better award.
I always get a kick out of celebrities who accept a number of different awards, trying to explain how each one is their *favorite*. I suppose when there are only two in a field, it’s easier to make a reliable choice!
Your explanation reminded me that one of the things Irvin referred to was the Stoker awards, and, IIRC, how they boosted their status by nominating a more mainstream book. I don’t have any idea if this would be a good or even workable strategy for the RITA—which more and more seems to me an award given by and for authors—but it may be an acknowledgment that other genres just have more cross-over appeal to begin with, inherently boosting the reputation of their awards. As large as Romance is, it also seems somewhat insulated, at least in the main.
The Romantic Novelists’ Association has the Romantic Novel of the Year Award. It’s run rather differently from the Rita, as is explained on the page I linked to.
it may be an acknowledgment that other genres just have more cross-over appeal to begin with, inherently boosting the reputation of their awards
The RNA possibly already has more ‘cross-over appeal’ in that they aren’t so focussed on the HEA as is the RWA, but there is that RITA for a novel with romantic elements. I’m also not sure how influential the RNA awards are, though one would possibly have to take into account the fact that the RNA is nowhere near the size of the RWA, so that probably has an effect too.
I get so lost at the reposting of earlier comments in newer comments thing that I’ve completely lost the entire thread of what I was supposed to have said.
Regardless – my comments were totally tongue-in-cheek regarding Nora Roberts going away with hurt feelings. I snort at the thought.
I don’t agree with Candy’s position on the RITAs, but manishtana? What else is new? We don’t agree on everything – especially reading material. Hence the site. There’s plenty of room for disagreement – though my style has always been more ruminative and questioning while Candy’s is much more declarative. Perhaps that’s part of the misinterpretation.
I’m very curious though, as I never know what half the categories mean for the RITA – what categories would work better? I was trying to poke at that idea in my original comment (badly): when it comes to evaluating romance it evolves so much into so many different subgenres, who DO you judge the product of a given year? Even in the 2 years we’ve run this site there’s been big changes.
Seems to me I always here a lot of dish around Oscar time about how the Academy always awards the safe movies, and Oh My God, how ignorant and plebian of them to leave out this movie or that. The Oscars are not cutting edge and neither are the Ritas.
Some of the authors that have been held up as Amazing (in this post and others) are just not amazing for me. Hell, my best friend and I seem to have the same taste, but I don’t agree with her favorites half the time. In other words, I don’t think the contest is broken. It’s just the nature of the beast. And, as you said Candy, if you have MORE in common with the tastes of mainstream sci-fi readers, it stands to reason that you’d be more in agreement on those awards. Doesn’t necessarily make them better, just better for you. And maybe that was the point of this whole damn thing!
Janny Crusie said:
Of course, the exception that proves the rule is Laura Kinsale’s Shadowheart. Everyone was absolutely convinced that there was no way in hell that book would win anything. As far as I remember, everyone was stunned it made the finals for its category. And it won. The strange, beautiful S/M romance that no one quite understood won.
But all in all, I think the middle-of-the-road analogy generally works. I always feel like I should read more RITA winners, but just don’t have the time or energy.
Yeah, that would be JENNY Crusie. I’m only, like, writing an article on Laura’s book on the woman. ::sigh::
The thing I don’t get about the RITAs (and mind, I have only been eligible to judge them for two years, so my experience and sample space is small) is that five judges determine the finalists. Five. Each book is read by five judges, who each give it a score from 1 to 9, and then the top choices (only five, right?) are the finalists. Then, five *different* judges read the finalist books and give them another score between 1 and 9, and the top scorer wins.
Without wanting to take anything away from those ten judges, or the books they choose as finalists (not mine, but some friends of mine have made it), but that’s a small panel of experts to weigh in on what’s “the best” in a given year. You know some judges get books that are in subgenres they don’t especially like, and they grade accordingly. Some people have issues with certain things that just hamstring a book from page one for them, and they grade accordingly. Why are you getting middle of the road books winning? IMHO, because those are the books that can appeal the most to the most number of judges. That’s what a book needs to do to final, and then win.
So how can you improve it and make it mean more? I dunno. Every panel of judges has some selection problem associated with it. RWA puts subtle pressure on published authors to judge, but there are problems with that. Readers? Can you say “self-selected?” Reviewers? Which ones? It’s a puzzle…
I have to say, though, just as a reader and a shopper, I have never seen a bookseller/bookstore make a big deal (or any deal) of a book being a RITA winner.
I should qualify that “nothing too cutting edge wins” bit. USUALLY nothing too cutting edge wins.
And then Sarah gets my name wrong and Rich makes fun of my age. Where’s the respect?
I don’t think anybody at RWA thinks the Rita process is perfect. And I know a committee just sent in a report recommending some changes, although I don’t know what they are or if they have a hope of going through. But I would argue that ten judges is a pretty big panel, not statistically significant but still not three women with coffee cups and Danish saying, “Well, I don’t like the ones with oral sex, so they’re going down.” So to speak.
I’m kind of with Stef on this one. If you don’t like it, identify the specific problems and come up with a better plan. (Mine is fewer overlapping categories and add a gay/lesbian track. But nobody ever listens to me.)
One thing that I have always found strange about the RITAs, compared to the Oscars or similar, is that writers in the same area are shut out of the judging. So a short contemp writer can’t judge those books, an inspirational writer can’t judge those books, etc. And this strikes me as strange because I have gotten emails from friends: “I have this historical book I’m supposed to be judging, I think there’s a major historical error in it; am I right? Should I mark it down? Does it matter?”
I would personally prefer to be able to vote on historicals (which I write) because I actually have experience in that area. “Is this a good paranormal romance?” I dunno, I was hoping for witches and wizards, zombies and vampires give me the creeps and I read this book with one eye closed. “Is this a good European historical?” OH, I KNOW something about that! And I don’t mind reading all the finalists, either! It doesn’t seem to me that objectivity would be any lesser, in the finalist round, because there’s a limited panel of books to choose from. “Which of these 5 books is the best? Check one only.” I can answer that.
Well, that’s my humble suggestion.
Something that always puzzled me was the pay to enter thing. Last I heard there was a charge of $40 for a RWA member to nominate a book and $140 for a non RWA member. The Nebula on the other hand don’t mention a charge in their rules and no one with a monetary interest in the book can nominate it. There’s no entry fee for the Edgars. So why does the RITAs have one?
Oy, so much to reply to! That’ll teach me to abandon Internet access for 24 hours. I’ll prolly split this into two different comments. Not that I’m necessarily complaining, mind you, because I’m glad to have a big, lively discussion about how the romance genre recognizes its best, and what that means when it consistently awards mediocrity.
So, Reply Part the First:
Sarah: So part of the validity of the RITAs for me as a reader is that they compare the current year’s releases against each other, and not with a larger rubric of quality that might compare older styles of romance to newer styles.
I agree with this, actually. It’s unfair to compare books that were written 23 years ago against books written last year. The thing is, the RITAs seem to award prizes to books that are mediocre at best and shoddily-written at worst for its year. I’m not being an old curmudgeon, all “I remember back how much better things were when I was a young ‘un.” I’m being a snobby curmudgeon, all “Dude, it sucked a while back, and it still sucks now, and can we PLEASE STOP SUCKING SO HARD SOME TIME SOON ‘CAUSE THAT’D BE NICE.”
Kass: Did she [Barbara Samuel] say “romances novels†or did you? If she did, I’d say she undercut her argument right there. If you can’t even properly use English grammar and spelling in your argument that the RITAs deserve respect…well, need I say more?
Heh, she wrote it—I copied and pasted from the original post at RtB. And I’m amused at the irony, too, but c’mon: stupid typos happen to the best of us. Samuel is, by and large, one of the most articulate, intelligent writers I’ve encountered. I’m all for nitpicking and pedantry, but this time, it’s kind of beside the point.
Mostly, even the most serious romance novel is entertainment first and everything else last. Period. Nothing wrong with that. But I don’t want to see us make the mistake that some people do when they defend an often-maligned genre and say it can cure AIDS and make julienne fries when it’s obvious that it can’t. That’ll just hold romances and romance readers up to more ridicule than we already get.
I’m very uncomfortable when I see statements like “romance novels are primarily entertainment,” because they’re often used in two very different contexts, both of them equally maddening:
1. They’re primarily entertainment, and therefore the mental equivalent of junk food. Reading too many of them will make your brain rot, so you shouldn’t read any at all, because your reading material should be full of the intellectual equivalent of organic produce, dew-picked and flown from Iraq, cleansed in the finest quality of spring water. (OK, sorry for that last bit—had a Monty Python marathon last night with several friends, so my brain is unnaturally preoccupied with crunchy frogs and llamas and blancmanges from outer space.)
2. They’re primarily entertainment, and therefore exempt from the usual standards of quality you goddamn literary snobs want to try and enforce on our fun, and really, poo on you, because we loveses our entertainment, and we don’t care if the sentences are pure atrocities, or if they butcher history, science and the very fabric of logic as we know it.
Not that you’re necessarily making either argument, Kass. I do agree that it’s important for us to be realistic about what romances are, and to not be mindless cheerleaders rah-rahing it along and making ridiculous claims about how good it actually is, but I don’t think them being “mostly entertainment” exempts them from exacting standards, because dammit, it has the potential to be more, and there’s no way it can be more unless we continually prod and poke it to be better.
Stef: As a member of the Board of Directors of RWA, as well as a RITA winner, I have zero objectivity when it comes to this blog post. I will therefore refrain from comment.
Dude! Stef! You have it completely backwards: as a board member of the RWA and a RITA winner, you are exactly the sort of person who should comment on this. You have zero objectivity? Of course. Shit, you think I wrote what I wrote from an objective standpoint? I wrote from a very specific mental space with a very specific point in mind, and I come from a very specific background in terms of literary pursuits, and if you think it’s full of shit, you should by all means call me on it.
It makes me a sad panda that you’ve decided to abandon further discussion of this here, and I’m here to ask you to come back and give me what-for.
If one considers the RITA contest to be broken, how does one propose to fix it?
Here’s the thing, Stef: It’s not necessarily the RITA that’s broken. I think the genre as a whole is kind of broken. Partly, it’s because of the allergy much of the community feels when it comes to criticism and discussion (though it’s becoming better as time goes on—well, on-line, anyway), which in turn is probably because of backlash to years of literary snobbery; there’s a tendency to throw the baby out with the bathwater by rejecting all criticism as being from people who just don’t get it. Partly, it’s because of the impersonal “we’re churning out a product” attitude that seems to be taking over publishing. The best way for the RITAs to be fixed? “Dear genre: Suck less plz. kthxbye.”
Here’s the thing: the RITAs purport to award prizes to the most excellent books in the field. Like I wrote previously, this is all well and good, but currently, it doesn’t. It mostly awards books that the judges liked the best, whether or not they were actually much good. And that’s fine. But it should be more honest about its goals. It’s more like the MTV Video awards, but it tries to pass itself off as the Grammies.
I’m also thinking, at this point, that people aren’t exactly clear on what I mean by “good” vs. “what I like.” Here’s what I mean: I liked Rejar by Dara Joy a whole lot more than Untie My Heart by Judith Ivory. I’ve re-read Rejar a bunch of times, but I could barely finish Untie My Heart; it just didn’t resonate with me. But I’d be really, really upset if Rejar ended up winning an award for excellence in romance writing, because it’s terribly written, but I wouldn’t blink an eye if Untie My Heart did. I mean, I’d disagree vigorously and perhaps point to a book that I thought was just as good AND that I’d enjoyed more, but I could certainly see why it’d be elected to win an award (despite portraying early farmers in late 19th-century England using metric in recipe books, because really now—but that’s the tiresome pedant in me nitpicking over minor quibbles).
Does this illustration make it any clearer? I see the RITAs awarding books like Rejar more often than they do books like Untie My Heart, and whether or not I like the book doesn’t necessarily factor into whether I think it deserved an Excellence in Writing award, even if I wouldn’t have voted for a particular well-written book myself.
Whew. And I have more comments to address! More to come.
If you don’t like it, identify the specific problems and come up with a better plan.
Is it logical, possible, desirable, or even wise to have specific criteria for judging beyond category guidelines? Criteria that would apply to craft as well as emotional success of the novel? For example: innovation in characterization, plot or theme; freshness of voice; mastery of generic components; internally consistent character development; emotional payoff; readability of prose; compelling characterizations; contribution of secondary characters to overall purpose of the novel; artistic merit beyond basic elements of craftsmanship; appropriateness and consistency of tone; cooperation of character, plot, and theme; clarity of overall vision; contribution to the development of the genre.
There would likely be disagreement on how each book rated in each category, but at least judges would have some common ground and shared criteria.
Right, so here comes Reply Part the Second, which isn’t quite as monstrously long as I feared, though it’s plenty long:
Robin, I wish I could compose some intelligent responses to what you have to say on this issue, but an eerie proportion of the time, you basically say what I want to say, except with much less cussing and a whole lot more smart. I do want to emphasize this particular bit that you wrote, however:
IMO there is a serious tension in Romance between the emotional impact of a book and larger issues of craft when it comes to evaluating books. Like, if a book doesn’t work as a Romance for some readers, it’s not a great book, no matter how skilled a work it might be.
I’m not sure how many people get me when I talk about what we like vs. what’s actually good, but thank sweet baby Ganesh, at least you get it.
*falls down weeping with gratefulness*
Nora: Ten out of fifty read I can buy. Ten out of fifty read that YOU felt deserved the award strikes me as perfectly reasonable.
The thing is, I expect better from RITA winners in terms of my curve, because they’re supposed to be the best. And the thing is, when I don’t like a RITA winner, I expect it to at least be well-written, but disappointingly, it’s often not.
You know, I’m feeling like committing to do doing something fairly insane, like reading all of the RITA winners, because the scientist in me wants to see how the RITA works in terms of my curve, and exactly how often they award prizes to good books vs. books we like.
Maybe I can whittle it down to just Best Single Title Contemporary, Best Short Historical and Best Long Historical. Hmm.
This means I’ll get to read a whole lot of your backlist, because DAMN, you’ve won a whole fuckton of RITAs.
Jackie L: Let me just say, Candy, dear, LaNora is the best storyteller in the genre. If you’d get over your apparent squickie sticky amour for historicals you’d know that.
Pfffff, whatevs. I love historicals, but I like contemporaries just fine, too. Jennifer Crusie, Anne Stuart, Ruth Wind and Theresa Weir are some of my favorite authors, and they write contemporaries (Stuart’s written a few fun historicals, too). And frankly, I wish a whole lot of historical romance authors would switch to contemporaries, because their voices are far too modern for historicals of any sort, much less historicals set in England—was I the only one to feel relieved to hear Connie Brockway had switched to contemporary? I’m now waiting for Julia Quinn to make the jump, bwahaha. Pity Mary Jo Putney’s contemporaries are so eh, because there’s a writer with a thoroughly modern voice who often makes me love her historicals, often despite the anachronistic voice. Anyway, defensiveness about my so-called “squickie sticky amour for historicals” aside: There’s no question that Nora is competent, but she just doesn’t make my heart leap. Again, Beth put it best.
I know I’m only a doctor, but I did major in lit in college, so I read all those famous guys too—like Rousseau in the original French. But with far less enjoyment than my romance.
I’m with you—I enjoy Roberts better than Rousseau, too, and I’m not the biggest Nora Roberts fan. But dude, you’re not seriously suggesting that Nora is a better writer than Rousseau, are you?
Sci-Fi is becoming more acceptable, i.e. less embarrassing to admit aloud that one reads it, because of the ascendancy of the geek. It is now ok to be a geek. Women are finally on the ascendant as well—a female speaker of the House, a legitimate candidate for President who is demonstrably XX in chromosomal make-up. Maybe the RITA’s should go to Best Romance of the year. We would have to have a fan side award too—like the Hugos and the Nebulas—one author voted, one more popular. Maybe romance readers (OMG, maybe even romance writers) would finally get a little respect.
I think the reason why the Hugos and Nebulas work so well in terms of boosting readership and sales is that the SF/F community is somewhat more unified than the romance reading community. SF/F fans speak Geek, and this is a large part of why Nebula and Hugo winners tend to work better for me than RITAs—my aesthetic judgment is much more in sync with the geek community’s as a whole. Romance readers, on the other hand, are all over the map. For that reason, I honestly don’t think the whole “Best Romance” thing is going to do much. And Miri makes a great point futher down the line, too, about how awarding something from one sub-genre as Best Romance would create a furor among the other sub-genres.
Selah: So long as a certain segment of the reading population—and I have no idea how large or small that segment is, but I harbor grave fears—buys a “feeling†instead of a story, we’ll always be marginalized in terms of artistic merit. […] Should we discontinue the Ritas because of it? Nah. But neither should we kid ourselves, because while the folks judging the contest—being authors themselves—may have an elevated appreciation for craft, they began as romance readers and are likely looking just as hard for that “glow†as the next Borders and B&N browser.
Is that a bad thing? I dunno. But it’s a thing.
Interesting points. And really, if the RITAs advertised themselves as “The awards that reward the books that made us feel fuzziest” instead of “The awards that reward the books representing the best writing the genre had to offer,” I wouldn’t feel quite as compelled to poke at it. I still wouldn’t use it as any sort of serious guide for my future purchasing choices, because like I’ve noted, my tastes are quite seriously divergent from the average romance reader.
Laura V: But a lot of other things are a matter of preference. I’m sure, looked at from a modern perspective, some literary classics are full of ‘info-dump’, they tell rather than show and they don’t ‘start when the action starts’.
That’s as may be, but there’s a certain kind of mastery of language and craft that transcends changing definitions of what’s good writing vs. bad, yes? We still think Nathaniel Hawthorne and George Eliot are fantastic, despite their slower pace, insanely huge sentences, info-dumpiness, etc. I don’t know of any scholars—or shit, any readers with even a modicum of education—who seriously attempt to judge the merits of Authors of Yore by modern standards and find them lacking solely based on that fact. Lots of modern readers bitch about how they’re bored or don’t get the classics, but that’s a different issue, yes?
Darlene: There were plenty of years when the Hugo award did not go to what many SF fans considered the best of the best.
True dat, but the thing is, when I read a Hugo winner I didn’t particularly enjoy, I could usually (with a few exceptions) see why it’d be nominated and why it won, even if I didn’t think it deserved the win. This is not the case with the vast majority of RITA winners.
Jenny freakin’ Crusie [insert Candy’s fangirl squeeing here]: Do mediocre books get the prize? All the time. But that’s my mediocre, possibly not yours. Plus any judging by committee is going to reward the more middle of the road.
I’ve already belabored the point regarding liking something vs. thinking it’s good many times, so I won’t do it again in this space. But that is an interesting point about rewarding the middle-of-the-road. However, do the other literary awards do it on as consistent a basis? For instance, I don’t think the Hugos or Nebulas have a tendency to do that, though they have done it occasionally.
Hey, do any mystery readers want to pipe up about the caliber of the Edgars? What about horror fans and the Stoker Awards? I’m utterly out of touch with both genres, though I used to read quite a few mysteries and horror novels when I was a teenager.
Caroline: One thing that I have always found strange about the RITAs, compared to the Oscars or similar, is that writers in the same area are shut out of the judging. So a short contemp writer can’t judge those books, an inspirational writer can’t judge those books, etc. […] I would personally prefer to be able to vote on historicals (which I write) because I actually have experience in that area. “Is this a good paranormal romance?†I dunno, I was hoping for witches and wizards, zombies and vampires give me the creeps and I read this book with one eye closed. “Is this a good European historical?†OH, I KNOW something about that!
That’s a good point, Caroline. This is me talking out of my ass: perhaps they’re afraid that conflict of interest would lead too many authors to score themselves highly (which can be avoided if care is taken to not send a scoresheet with the judge’s book on it, which shouldn’t be hard to do nowadays what with databases and all), or score all their competitors on the lower end of the scale? Which strikes me as a strange fear, because I don’t think too many authors would be such utter bastards, and even assuming the vast majority of them pulled such a trick, a valid winner that scored more points overall would emerge. If there’s a different rationale, I’d love to hear it, because the two scenarios I came up with are pretty silly, and I can’t imagine they’d be the impetus for the RWA to disallow authors from voting in their sub-genre.
Jennifer Crusie, Anne Stuart, Ruth Wind and Theresa Weir are some of my favorite authors, and they write contemporaries (Stuart’s written a few fun historicals, too).
Hmm, I haven’t read Weir or the contemporary version of Samuels(Wind), but I like the others on that list, so I think I’ll try. Recommendations for their best books, Candy?
In regard to more “books we like,” I really enjoyed both of Caroline Linden’s historicals, in part, I think, because they were quiet books that made me care without a lot of pyrotechnics or adolescent behavior on the part of the protagonists.
And while books under the Roberts name don’t work for me, I do have to say that I’ve really enjoyed the In Death books, at least most of the paperbacks (I really liked the last hardcover, but was ready to abandon the series before that). You read more SF/F than I do, so you may not enjoy them as much as I have, but I really like Eve Dallas’s persistent defensive bitchiness, and there are some nifty gender role reversals between her and Roarke that are clever and innovative, IMO. If you endeavor to read more of her books, you might want to look there, although I don’t think any of them have won the RITA.
I believe—and I’ve never asked—that the entry fee is supposed to cover the expenses like the paperwork, the shipping the books to judges, etc. I don’t know how many entries there are in any given year, but I’d assume bunches—times five for the number of books each entrant sends in. A lot of books to log in, check, assign and ship out to the (I guess it would be) 70 judges, at least for the first round.
Could RWA suck up the expense? Sure. Should they? I don’t know. For 40 bucks, I don’t really care so much either way.
Judging in the category in which you’ve entered is asking for trouble. Seriously, while it’s nice to think people wouldn’t give their own book an edge, many others would be SURE they had. If some of the discussion here leans toward judges not being objective enough to read a book and judge it on its own merits, how much more grumbling would there be if their own books were tossed into their particular judging pool? Not saying judging their own, but judging their competition in the first round.
And why would a valid winner come out of that, if the opinion in valid winners don’t come out of it now?
Judges can request categories. The categories I’ll judge are down on my profile. Mostly I want category—I used to write them, so I get them, and I appreciate them. I don’t want to judge Inspirationals, for instance, so I don’t.
Craft plays a huge part in my personal judging process. Three of the seven I judged this year faired poorly with me because I found them badly crafted.
Does that make it perfect? Absolutely not. But it’s never going to be perfect.
I don’t do boards and committees so I don’t know how they determine the rules and procedures, or even how many times they’ve changed or defined those over the last couple decades. However much they fiddle and tweak, it’s not going to please everyone. And many members—and many readers—will always feel the best books didn’t win.
Anyway, it’s nice to see that old Janny Kruisie stop by.
~The thing is, I expect better from RITA winners in terms of my curve, because they’re supposed to be the best. And the thing is, when I don’t like a RITA winner, I expect it to at least be well-written, but disappointingly, it’s often not.~
Yes, it should be well-written. I’m assuming you’re talking about the writing itself—the structure, the language, blah blah and not your particular likes in style.
I don’t know how many Rita winners I’ve read over the years—and no possibly way I’m going to check the list and try to remember. But I certainly remember being baffled by some. Some because of my particular tastes, some because I didn’t find them well-crafted.
As I said before, craft is an essential part of my judging process. I think it should be in every judge’s. But who’s going to control that one?
And we’ve all read books that are beautifully crafted that sank for us for other reasons. It’s HARD to judge fairly and objectively, and to factor in all the elements. Even when you do, not everyone’s going to agree with your results.
We still think Nathaniel Hawthorne and George Eliot are fantastic, despite their slower pace, insanely huge sentences, info-dumpiness, etc. I don’t know of any scholars—or shit, any readers with even a modicum of education—who seriously attempt to judge the merits of Authors of Yore by modern standards and find them lacking solely based on that fact.
Well, in almost all cases that’s because they really are good. The pacing may not suit a modern reader, but they have an exciting plot, convincing characterisation, fascinating background (social, historical, political), interesting imagery, they don’t make grammar mistakes etc. But sometimes there’s also an element of the Emperor’s New Clothes syndrome. How many people are going to declare that something is badly written if they think that everyone else is sure it’s a Classic? Also, ‘Since the canon as a whole and survey courses in particular necessarily exclude so many individual works, those that remain often appear far more original and far more unique than they in fact are’ (Landow).
I can’t think of very many classics I think are badly written, but I’m not at all convinced by Catcher in the Rye. Admittedly my memories of it are very vague and date from when we were forced to read it at school, but from what I can recall it was written in a style I felt was distinctly unexciting and had a main character who did nothing of interest (to me). I suspect it must have resonated with someone (or a group of people) because they had an emotional connection with it, and they happened to be in a position to convince others that it was objectively Good but no-one is ever going to convince me that it’s a well-written novel. And that could well be because of my tastes, I admit that. In general I think that subjective factors play some part in the process which leads to some works being considered classics.
There are probably lots of women writers whose work should form part of the canon but who’ve been excluded and forgotten for the very non-objective reason that they were women and were writing about subjects that the literary elite didn’t think were Important: ‘The systematic exclusion of authors who belong to identified minorities (racial, gendered, economic) seems to be one of the hallmarks of canon formation’ (Hentschell). Nationality can also play a part. I’ve never read Hawthorne and hadn’t even heard of him until recently, and I wonder if that’s because he’s not considered such a major author in the UK? I suspect that there are many Great Authors who are considered much more Great in their own countries. If that’s the case then it would also tend to support my suggestion that there are subjective factors influencing decisions regarding what’s considered Good.
(Oh, and in case anyone’s wondering, I’m capitalising some words deliberately and I never guarantee that my posts will be typo-free.)
Re readers placing more emphasis on the emotional aspects of the book and not as much on the craft, could it not be that, in general, we’re not giving the author enough credit for *causing* that glow (through their craft)?
And if (returning to the Rita context) a judge had to choose between two books – the one with the yummy love story but some unfortunate stilted dialogue in some places or descriptive tags such as ‘her eyes were moonbeams’; and the one with the yummy love story as well as superior writing – why do we think there’ll be tension between which one to choose as award winner?
Final point: I wouldn’t know if I’ve read RITA books or not because the award is completely beneath my radar. I don’t know when ‘Rita season’ is; I don’t know what categories are up for awards, I know nothing about nothing (yay for the double negative). Romance blogland (or at least the parts I traverse) don’t seem to have much respect for it, but the RtB post and this one will certainly make me take more interest in it.
I do think though, that the lack of respect for the award seems to flow directly from a lack of respect not just for the judging process but the judges themselves. Because some think that being a published author is not qualification enough to judge the work of others. So, I see it as a problem bigger than the awards process and more linked to romance writing standards overall
~And if (returning to the Rita context) a judge had to choose between two books – the one with the yummy love story but some unfortunate stilted dialogue in some places or descriptive tags such as ‘her eyes were moonbeams’; and the one with the yummy love story as well as superior writing – why do we think there’ll be tension between which one to choose as award winner?~
I think the question might be that I have a yummy love story that has flaws re craft. And I have a technically well-written book that failed to engage me. I didn’t find it yummy. I wasn’t able to connect to the story or characters on an emotional level.
If this were the case, for me, I’d most likely go for the book with some flaws that sucked me in. However, if it had too many flaws, if it came off sloppy, then it would earn low marks from me.
For me, when judging a contest for Romance novels, I must be engaged by the characters and their relationship. For me, that’s the point—or the key. And that would be where personal preference, to some extent, is going to ooze in no matter how much you try to block it out.
But, in fact, I’m NOT going to be engaged if I find the writing itself clunky. It’s going to keep tossing me out.
“Re readers placing more emphasis on the emotional aspects of the book and not as much on the craft, could it not be that, in general, we’re not giving the author enough credit for *causing* that glow (through their craft)?”
This is a beautiful statement! Sentence structure, word choice and placement within the sentence, crafting of hooks—all these elements are the writer’s tools of manipulation. Even a period instead of a comma changes the way something is read—the pacing, emotions, etc. And it’s something I pay insane attention to when I write.
I don’t think there’s alot of reader awareness of this manipulation (such an ugly word, but I mean it in a good way, honest!)and there shouldn’t be! The minute someone is aware of these crafty mind-games, their powah is removed.
I’ve tipped my hand but I don’t care. It’s wonderful to have someone realize that *glow* isn’t accidental!
Quote: I think the question might be that I have a yummy love story that has flaws re craft. And I have a technically well-written book that failed to engage me. I didn’t find it yummy. I wasn’t able to connect to the story or characters on an emotional level.
I guess where I got confused is that I couldn’t/can’t see a book without a yummy love story even making the shortlist for the Best ‘Insert Romantic Sub-genre’ Book of the year. It’s failed the first hurdle.
Now what we, you, I, they consider ‘yummy love story’ is a whole ‘nother topic. But to even be considering a book that is superbly written but short on the emotional reader engagement wrt the characters? Isn’t that what a romance novel is supposed to be about?
That’s why people want to make the difference clear between, for e.g., a ‘paranormal romance’ and a ‘paranormal with romantic elements’. The former qualifies for a Rita; the latter doesn’t (shouldn’t?).
Ann – I’ve always given the majority credit to the author for giving me a ‘glow’. I don’t sit and dissect how they did it but am always happy that they got it done.
Just wanted to clarify one thing I said earlier:
Nora said, “Judging in the category in which you’ve entered is asking for trouble.” I see the argument against it, but I also think RWA should consider it in some form. As someone who’s written category, Nora Roberts’s opinion of category books is an expert opinion. My opinion of category books is, to say the least, amateur and woefully uninformed. I don’t read a lot of them, I’ve never written one. I just wish there were some way to help funnel the books more toward the ‘expert’ opinion. (And yes, I know we are allowed to choose which categories we want to judge. But we are also allowed to choose which categories we ENTER, and lots of books now cross boundaries. Is it a historical, or is it paranormal? Maybe even an inspirational? What’s the difference between long historical and short historical? You might win in one category and not even final in the other.)
As to professional jealousy/friendship skewing votes, I doubt it, not anymore than it already does. I’ve already gotten a book written by a good friend of mine, and I’ve only been judging the RITA for two years. Did it affect my score? No, I believe not, but some could certainly make a case that it did, and there wouldn’t be much I could do to disprove it.
~But to even be considering a book that is superbly written but short on the emotional reader engagement wrt the characters? Isn’t that what a romance novel is supposed to be about?~
Well, I certainly think so. But you can’t get around the fact that every reader (writer, reader, judge) has their own emotional engagement clicks. That’s why the process is, and always will be, subjective on some levels. Can’t get around it.
Candy said:if the RITAs advertised themselves as “The awards that reward the books that made us feel fuzziest” instead of “The awards that reward the books representing the best writing the genre had to offer,” I wouldn’t feel quite as compelled to poke at it.
The purpose of the award as stated in the contest rules is: ”(…)to promote excellence in the romance genre by recognizing outstanding romance books and manuscripts.”
Obviously, some judges view that excellence as books that give them a fuzzy feeling, and others view that excellence as the best writing the genre has to offer. What determines an outstanding romance book is going to vary from judge to judge since there is no call to judge based on any specific elements such as those Robin mentioned above (which are exactly how I do judge).
~Is it a historical, or is it paranormal? Maybe even an inspirational?~
Well, that would be for the entrant to decide. And once deciding, and entering in that category, the entrant wouldn’t judge that category. But if the book could have slotted into the other two choices as well, then presumably the entrant would be a good judge for either of those categories.
I’ve always signed up to judge a category I particularly like reading. Why would I subject myself (or the unfortunate entrants who got stuck with me) to reading types of books I don’t like, or don’t understand?
Personally, I know I’d feel uncomfortable judging books entered in the same category as mine. I’d be second-guessing myself constantly. Am I being fair, am I being objective? (But isn’t my book BETTER???) Bad angel, good angel. I’d sprain my neck in the process. It’s hard enough to be fair and objective. Toss in personal interest, my own Catholic guilt and I’d be a wreck.
I do think though, that the lack of respect for the award seems to flow directly from a lack of respect not just for the judging process but the judges themselves. Because some think that being a published author is not qualification enough to judge the work of others. So, I see it as a problem bigger than the awards process and more linked to romance writing standards overall
Is there an argument that being pubbed in romance isn’t enough of a qualification to judge? Because I don’t get that. We’re professionals in the industry. What other standard should there be? Professionals who aren’t so damned emotional and cuddly and undereducated? Professionals who also love to read and study the classics? I find the idea insulting.
I wouldn’t judge a category that I don’t read. And if someone chooses to enter their category book in the suspense contest, I’ll judge it against my idea of a good suspense. That’s the entrant’s choice, no skin off my back. And every single romance contest I’ve ever entered has a nominal contest fee to cover mailing, etc. Big fricken deal.
Or just what Nora said. 😉
Re: fuzzy feelings/emotional engagement. Just as a for instance (and I’ll try not to misspell any important names here!):
I actively hunt for romances with alpha males. I pretty much don’t care about the heroine. Sure, I’d prefer the heroine to be a little feisty, a little in control of something, articulate and not TSTL. But I’ve read books with heroines who *are* TSTL and loved them…because the hero engages me. Can we say Jane Feather’s 18thC books?
So, do I adore the feelings that JR Ward’s male vampires make me feel? You betcha. Do I think the heroines are wet dishrags? Most of the time (although rereading has changed my mind about Mary). Will I be first in line to buy V’s book in October, no matter what I think of Ward’s ability to write women? Absolutely. Because it’s *V’s* book, the hero’s book, not the heroine’s.
And do books with super alpha-males trip other people’s rage switches like nobody’s business? Sure they do. Wallbangers for me are Desert Island Keepers for you.
I *don’t* like books that focus too much on the heroines, that spend too much time creating a female community of friends and relatives, that focus on the heroine’s journey to the “detriment” of the hero’s emotional journey into maturity and love. So, no matter how brilliant the books are, they’re not going to engage me. I’m not going to get a warm fuzzy feeling when reading it. I read The Secret Life of Bees because I assigned it to my students. I was bored senseless by it, even though I could see that it was brilliantly written. Objectively, I could see why it spent so long on the NYT list, but I personally won’t read anything else by Sue Monk Kidd.
How would I grade JR Ward versus Patricia Williamson (assuming they were competing for something)? I can technically tell that Williamson has better craft, better technique (and I adored her The Outsider), but Ward really makes me feel warm and fuzzy in all sorts of nice places. I don’t think I could “objectively” grade which book by these two authors are “better” because I would have a hard time knowing what to grade FOR.
But then again, is Williamson’s craft and technique deemed “better” than Ward’s because it’s more “realistic”? She does nhame her hheroes rheally wheird nhames, after all. Okay, bad example. Let’s go back to Jane Feather. Or even Amanda Quick. Their books raise an emotional response in me and I *know* that’s because I react to the alpha male hero giving in to love. Williamson’s books, not so much, because she focuses on the heroine so much more. Which is “better” FOR ME?
And I’m going to go on record as saying that I think Melville is a really bad writer. *Technically* bad, as well as boring as fuck. Can I understand why someone else might think he’s technically brilliant? Yes, but I think they’re wrong. Austen has received similar criticism—that her technical skill, her craft, is wanting—mostly because she only writes about the domestic. That is, because for some people, she’s boring as fuck.
That is, it’s not just that the warm fuzzies affect the way in which one particular reader reacts to a book, but the warm fuzzies can also dictate what a reader thinks of the book’s CRAFT, too.
I have no answers. Just observations. And Candy, do I think La Nora is “better” than Rousseau? I’m going to have to pass on that. Do we only think Rousseau is “good” because he says politically important things at a politically violent time or because his craft is good? Daniel Defoe’s craft sucks, in my opinion. But I think he’s an important writer, nonetheless, because he developed aspects of the novel (episodic writing, character) that have little to do with his ability to string words together in a sentence and make sure that his novels are logically consistent. Whose to say Roberts isn’t saying politically important things of her own and that she won’t be studied 300 years down the line. Or that the criteria of being studied 300 years on will have nothing to do with political statements, but will instead be focused on something else. Because I think her craft is excellent. And she has made technical and generic innovations in the romance. Who deems the value of “importance”?
Victoria, it hasn’t been said here no but I have heard that sentiment expressed by readers (i.e. ‘We want to know *which* authors are judging. Do we find them top authors in the field or just middle-of-the-road?)
Re readers placing more emphasis on the emotional aspects of the book and not as much on the craft, could it not be that, in general, we’re not giving the author enough credit for *causing* that glow (through their craft)?
I don’t think so, although I agree with you and others who have indicated that this is the highest expression of “excellence” in the Romance genre. Ideally, it is the craft that *delivers* the emotional impact.
But IMO there is a tendency to do what I call “shorthand Romance” these days—to cue the reader with specific descriptions and types (i.e. flame red hair = feisty, dark craggy features = brooding hero), leaving it up to the reader to fill in the rest. And quite a few readers, who have these incredible stores of generic information and emotional receptivity to Romance, cue very easily, IMO. Lots of readers, IMO, don’t notice the difference, for example, between showing and telling because they are so open to receiving the emotional payoff in a Romance that they don’t realize they’re generating it themselves in many instances (I think this is especially a problem with ever-shrinking page and word counts). I sense that this may be especially true of readers who tend to gravitate toward the same sub-genre and type of Romance novel—that the vocabulary of those Romances is so much a part of their reading experience, that the reader can take on a portion of the craftsmanship responsibilities without even knowing or caring. Please note that I’m not suggesting that these readers are mindless, stupid, ignorant, or possessing of bad taste—only that they are so schooled in the genre and so open to its promised emotional payoff that they automatically fill in whatever is absent from the book itself (or overlook, as the case may be, with poor sentence structure or massive copyediting problems, etc.).
Now I will *absolutely* grant that beyond all this there is a vast territory of taste and personal preference, and that I, for example, can wonder into the next millennium why that reviewer on AAR gave The Smoke Thief a D- (how could she not SEE the skill and FEEL the emotional power of that book?!), but the fact remains that I gave the book an A range grade and she gave it a D range grade. So as everyone else is saying, I don’t expect any judging process to be anywhere near perfect.
BUT, as Candy has argued, I absolutely, positively think that there are some things that can be discerned as good or poor on a pretty objective level, and unfortunately (IMO), the Romance culture, as a whole, has NOT made these elements of any fine book a part of the accepted and familiar community discourse. And I think this is tied explicitly to the resistance to critique that still pervades the genre. If we regularly talked about style and voice and quality of prose and all those other things more readily, IMO the *books* and the *reader response* would change, too (although I still think we would need to deal with publishers and editors and other industry players who have different agendas). Now, whether the majority of authors want to see those changes is another question entirely. I’m still trying to get over Penny Jordan’s bewilderment (as she commented recently on the new Harlequin Presents blog) as to why readers enjoy the “dominant heroine.”
Nora, you say what you want. I dare say the Bitches could hobble along without your participation, but it always give me a thrill to read your comments, and I am—gasp—one of those unenlightened ones who’s not quite yours yet.
It’s like having George Clooney drop by and say hi. Or Brad Pitt. Or—crap, I’m a starfucker.
(i.e. ‘We want to know *which* authors are judging. Do we find them top authors in the field or just middle-of-the-road?)
Heehee. This makes me feel bad for the top authors in the field. I want them to have time to do other things. Like write!!!
Regardless, someone would have to decide who is worthy and who isn’t. Who would that be? And then there’s the idea that judges should be random and anonymous and not walking around with a stamp of approval on their foreheads. And, again, there is the manpower issue.
I see a lot of Reader’s Choice awards I don’t agree with, but I don’t think to myself that they should find some better readers who know what the hell they’re talking about!
Is there an argument that being pubbed in romance isn’t enough of a qualification to judge? Because I don’t get that. We’re professionals in the industry. What other standard should there be?
I agree. Who else *could* you choose to judge? In most other professions, being judged ‘the best’ by your peers is usually considered a good thing.
Okay, I just have to say that I *heart* Melville, and I am definitely one of those who believes that he is virtually unsurpassed as a master of American fiction. AND the guy info-dumped by the literary megaton.
Laura: if you hadn’t heard of Hawthorne until recently, have you heard of Margaret Fuller, one of his contemporaries (and a character in The Blithedale Romance)? If you haven’t already, check her out—I think you will find her work and her life very interesting (she was one of the few “bonafied” female transcendentalists).
I hate Moby Dick.
There, I’ve said it. I even hated the movie, and I’d watch pretty much anything with Gregory Peck just to look at that amazingly sexy mouth of his.
Anyway.
What’s good, what’s not so good, what’s excellent and what’s mundane—even in craft—is very much up for all manner of debate. So again, judging is hard.
We do—certainly my circle of writer friends—routinely discuss style, voice, craft, technique in the books we read, within the genre and outside of it. Workshops at writers’ conferences are devoted to such elements of the process.
Do most—or forget that—would I discuss those areas regarding a particular book with readers, esp in a public forum? No, I wouldn’t. I’m not going to pick apart or critique another writer’s book in public. Some may consider that short-sighted or even weenie, that’s fine. I consider doing so tacky.
Readers are, obviously, free to do so. And I’m interested in the comments and discussions when they do. Sometimes I agree, sometimes I don’t. But in this area I’m probably going to keep my opinion to myself.
Is there an argument that being pubbed in romance isn’t enough of a qualification to judge? Because I don’t get that. We’re professionals in the industry. What other standard should there be?
I agree. Who else *could* you choose to judge? In most other professions, being judged ‘the best’ by your peers is usually considered a good thing.
I don’t think that Dalia (was it Dalia?) was making that argument at all; I think she was saying that in her opinion there isn’t universal respect for Romance authors *per se*, but rather for some authors more than others, etc. In other words, that for some people, author status isn’t enough (i.e. they want a “star” judging and not a mid-list author). I haven’t heard those criticisms (I tend to think there’s WAY TOO MUCH over-personalization of Romance authors in general), so I can’t vouch for the accuracy of her comment, but I don’t think she was bringing into question the right of authors to judge the contest—if anything, I think she’s more willing to defer to authorial authority than some of us other folks! 🙂
Oh, I didn’t think Dalia believed that, just arguing with imaginary “Theys”. I always find They are the best people to argue with. *snicker*
This may be a strange question to ask on this site, but after reading the original post. . . Candy, I’m curious as to whether you consider yourself a “romance reader”, however you may define that. Or do you consider yourself a reader who loves the occassional romance, but it’s really not your genre?
I loves me some Robin Hobb, but I’m not a sci-fi/fantasy reader. In 2003 I devoured every book of hers I could find, but I was always wishing she’d get back to the romance sub-plot, and oooh, I would’ve loved to see those dragons doing the sexy-sexy.
Regardless of how you feel about the Rita *g*, I was intrigued that you said your tastes are more in sync with the average sci-fi reader.
I don’t think that Dalia (was it Dalia?) was making that argument at all; I think she was saying that in her opinion there isn’t universal respect for Romance authors *per se*, but rather for some authors more than others, etc. In other words, that for some people, author status isn’t enough (i.e. they want a “star†judging and not a mid-list author).
I was just throwing in my two cents with Victoria on the concept, rather than rebutting a particular post.
And also like Victoria, I wouldn’t want those ‘star’ authors to have to judge by themselves; I want them to write! It would be too much to ask only a select set of authors to judge; there are just too many books in the contest (over 1000?).
The RITA is incorrectly compared to the OSCAR. The industry equivalent would be the SAG. Oscar voters represent 14 branches of interest from directors, executors, PR folks, and the actors. The RITAs would need to include voting by editors, copy writers, artists, PR folks, booksellers, etc for it be equivalent so the underlying basis for the argument is fallacious.
This is a writer award that completely removes any participation from the reader which is necessary in order for the reader to find it relevant to her situation. I.e., there is so much more going on at the Oscars than just the awards and the awards happen live allowing the reader to believe that they are experiencing the event with the participants – that they themselves are participants.
I plan on live blogging the RITA this year and maybe after several years of this, readers will find this an interesting and participatory event but there is nothing in the way in which it is run currently, from the nomination to the voting to the award ceremony that the reader can find personally relevant.
Further, it is apparent from some of the comments and from the blog article itself by Samuel, that the approval of one’s peers is paramount, even more so than the fans/readers. The authors themselves make the award seem exclusive of the reader. No award is more important than the RITA. Which is fine. But if that is the case, don’t expect the Readers to adopt that attitude just because the author does. Essentially the rationale is that five authors like this book and so should you which is a weak rationale and as Candy pointed out, sounds very paternalistic as if a reader or a group of readers don’t have a clue as to what makes a good book.
As an industry award, it sounds like it isn’t even judged on any type of objective criteria making the award sound more like a popularity contest that some allege that it is.
The categories and the reason behind the many categories seem pedantic to me. Some people can’t judge a category on the same criteria as a full blow mass market and therefore there has to be a special award for the category novel so at to assist the judge in removing bias!
Heck, Crusie’s Anyone But You (and many other of her categories) and Kathleen O’Reilly’s Beyond Breathless could live up to any full length contemporary and the idea that these have to be judged separately is ridiculous.
Did you see the inspirational category description? It says it is an award for any religion or belief but does a Wiccan based novel ever win or would it? Absolutely not.
How about Best Traditional Romance
Best Traditional Romance where the guidelines state that the stories “may include sexual tension and, within marriage, sexual fulfillment.” Ms. Roberts stated that she could not include a mystery that was well written because there were no romantic elements. Using the same adherence to the guidelines, if the book has sexual fulfillment outside of marriage, you have to grade it down, no matter how good the story is, right?
Ms. Crusie has it right in that this award is probably run just right for its purpose and that is to give an industry award. But for readers to take it seriously, a serious overhaul would have to take place, opening up the voting to individuals beyond writers, making bookstores and librarians, maybe even the press, invest personally in the outcome. Making the categories more trim and not including the very silly requirements about when sexual tension and sexual fulfillment can or cannot appear in the story.