Don’t Tempt Me was a strange reading experience for me. While I was reading it, I was so captivated by the chemistry between the hero and heroine that I couldn’t bear to stop. I resented every minute I had to spend working, sleeping or shopping. I cheerfully ignored cats, friends, roommate and boyfriend in favor of finishing the book. I haven’t read a book this way in a very long time—I think the last time … Continue reading Don’t Tempt Me by Loretta Chase →
While I was on the Book Tour of Much Bosom Heaving, one of the top questions I got wasn’t, to my surprise, “What is a cuntweasel? Is it a weasel made of cunt, or a weasel whose native habitat is a cunt, or a verb for a maneuver from a cunt that is exceptionally limber? Enlighten us, O Muse!” No, one of the questions people asked me most consistently was “Do you have a list … Continue reading Candy’s Favorite Romances: A Work in Progress →
Evil Auntie Peril wrote one of the most fascinating series of articles I’ve read in a while about selective filtering in romances. Essentially, she points out that certain types of details or tropes make it into romance novels because they’d be “historically accurate” (e.g., heroes who rape the heroine), but others are decidedly excluded because, while they may (or may not) be historically accurate, they’re icky, and pull you out of the fantasy—and chief among … Continue reading On historickiness, and ahistoricity →
Chew‘s premise is morbid, hilarious and delicious: in the near future, chicken has been outlawed in the United States because of an uncontrolled outbreak of avian flu. Or is it? Is it instead a gigantic governmental conspiracy? Regardless, chicken parts are now the hottest thing on the street, because as one characters observe: “You outlaw chicken, and only outlaws have chicken.” The FDA (minor quibble: why the FDA, and not the USDA?) is now in … Continue reading Chew Issue #1 by John Layman and Rob Guillory →
I love Kate Beaton. I love her so hard. I think the essence of that comic can be summed thusly: It is a truth universally acknowledged in Romancelandia, that a single brooding man in possession of a dickbag nature must be in want of a Magic Hoo-Hoo to reform him. Nice dudes are nice, but dickbags are (generally speaking) easier to write when one is looking for fodder for generating conflict, and more exciting to … Continue reading Dude Watchin’ With the Brontes →
Dudes! I’m in ur Bay Areas, stealin ur mantitties. And also signing books. And, should you wish it, your mantitties. Or your womantitties. I’m easy. Time: 2 p.m. Place: Bay Books, 1669 Willow Pass Road, Concord, CA Come one, come all, and heckle the hell out of me.
I’ve been thinking a lot about the role romance novels play for its readers and authors ever since reading Teresa Medeiros’ inspiring and heart-wrenching post about why she writes romance novels. If you’ve been buried underneath some sort of Internet rock and haven’t read it yet, go have a look-see. That piece does more to allay doubts about the power of popular fiction to make a substantial, beautiful difference in people’s lives than anything I’ve … Continue reading On the role romance novels play →
So I’m planning to head to the Great Gray North a bit early tomorrow to avoid the nasty nasty clusterfuckage that is Seattle Metro Area rush hour traffic, and I’m planning to be at the Barnes and Noble by around 3 or 4 p.m.—which means I have 3 hours to kill. Any suggestions for interesting things I can do there? Please note that I am a) very easily amused, and b) sitting on my ass … Continue reading Pre-Bitch hangouts for the Tukwila reading tomorrow and the Boise reading on Friday? →
Check it out, motherfuckers: I talk at length about the romance ghetto, why it’s a ghetto, how I got there and why I love it, and Sarah and I tackle disdain for romance novels and give recommendations. (Side note: that first sentence for the Ghetto article? Should read “Welcome to the romance ghetto.” Gahhhhhhhhhh I hate it when I omit words that way and don’t catch it.) Anyway, we are on the Powell’s Book Blog, … Continue reading Smart Bitches on the Powell’s Interblag! →
Last night’s reading at Powell’s was my first public reading of any sort, barring the Bad Poetry Contests I used to help organize back at the University of Portland, and it couldn’t have gone any better—not even if a horde of My Little Ponies had descended from the heavens and pooped rainbows all over the crowd. The introduction included a warning about blue language and a recommendation that anybody within hearing distance who might be … Continue reading A recap of the Powell’s Reading →
Dudes: Powell’s in Beaverton. Today. 7 p.m. Be there, or be bereft of titty of the man variety. I’m going to bring my camera and hopefully have somebody record part of the reading. ohjesusi’mgoingtoholdabookreadingatpowellsahhhhhhhhhhhh
