by Laura K. Curtis | Aug 6, 2013 | Books, Romance, Writing |
I blame Twilight. Closely followed by its fan fic, 50 Shades. But lately, it seems that everywhere I look I see romance novels populated by stalkers and abusers, general alpha-holes, who wouldn’t make it past my front door. These are guys who won’t take “no” for an answer, even—or especially—when they profess to love the speaker. Many of them are billionaires, for some reason. Or bikers. In fact, so many of them that I am willing to add both Billionaires and Bikers to my list of TICAs, at least for the moment.
It was easier with Twilight. At least there you weren’t dealing with a human. I mean, I think we can all agree that a human male who sneaks into a girl’s bedroom and watches her sleep needs intense therapy at the very least, right? If not jail time? Maybe social mores among vampires are different.
But what about Mr. Grey? Ana tells him “I don’t want to see you” and he repeatedly shows up. That’s called stalking. It’s against the law. And the other crap he does to her (and no, I am not talking about the sex, I am talking about separating her from family and friends, controlling her life, etc.) are textbook abuser behaviors. And yet, supposedly, all of this is ok because of his traumatic past.
Or take Kristen Ashley’s Motorcycle Man, which begins post-coitus with the hero telling the heroine, his new office manager and one night stand, to leave her number when she leaves. Then their first actual interaction basically begins with him speaking these words to her:
“I do not work with bitches who have had my dick in their mouths.”
And then he goes on to dissect their sexual encounter.
Right. Because that’s the kind of “hero” we’re all looking for nowadays. I mentioned to a friend of mine that right there Ashley lost me and she said “oh, but he’s the hero, you know there’s a reason he’s acting that way and that we’ll find out what it is.”
Well, but here’s the thing. I don’t care why he’s acting that way. I don’t care how horrible his childhood was. I don’t care if only the love of a good woman can save him. I’ve known men like that and if they reach his age and still act that way, they’re done. That’s who they are. My suspension of disbelief will stretch only so far, and that’s about a mile past the marker.
Now, that’s not to say I don’t love a good Alpha hero. Even a bossy, slightly overbearing hero. Probably my very favorite of this type at the moment is Cara McKenna’s Kelly Robak from After Hours. The guy has plenty of baggage and he likes to have his way. But he’s not an asshole. And he’s up front about everything. He’s a grown up. He’s learned to deal with his own issues and to explain. He pushes some of the heroine’s boundaries, and she gets in his face, and that’s okay. Although I did at one or two points find myself going “well, that’s the wrong way to handle something, Bud,” I never thought “wow, you’re a complete shit.” And there’s a big difference.
There are lots of ridiculous tropes I love. The Marriage of Convenience, for example, which, since I don’t really read historicals, is hard to find. (Now that same sex marriage is legal in many states, I know an editor looking for same-sex marriage of convenience stories…if you have one, holler!) A good contemporary MoC story will grab me every time. Just like a good Best Friend’s Little Sister story. And I know there are plenty of people who hate both.
So what are your TICAs?
by Laura K. Curtis | Aug 1, 2013 | Books, Romance |
Image by @smartbiches Sarah.
Here we are again, in a familiar place for readers and writers of romance—with someone denigrating both romance fiction and its readership. This time, it’s Kelly Bohan, an intern at the Missouri Review, who decided for some unknown reason to critique a genre she admits to knowing nothing about.
In fact, she is very proud of the fact that she disdains romance. She found Roberts’s language horrific but Nabokov’s beautiful. I won’t pick apart the passages she chooses—you can do that yourself—but I will say that it’s immensely clear to me that she’s not just not a reader of romance, she’s not a reader of popular fiction of any kind, and that’s hardly something of which to be proud. Especially when she’s interning at a magazine, so one assumes she has hopes of writing herself someday.
How do I know she doesn’t read popular fiction? Well, she doesn’t read thrillers—they’re absolutely chock-full of over-the-top description. Is it about sex? Not always, but certainly there’s plenty of sex in James Rollins or Barry Eisler, none of which is particularly elegantly written (sorry, guys) but instead is written to suit the stories. And then there’s Lee Child, who was nominated for a Bad Sex award for this passage from The Affair.
There’s a particular class of Sci-Fi is called “Space Opera.” Obviously, she doesn’t read that. Nor does she read High Fantasy—the descriptions of the settings alone would be far too florid. I love sword and sorcery stories, but that’s probably because they are romances in the traditional sense—stories of adventure that end happily. Or modern lit fic, since that, too, is frequently ridiculous in its descriptions of sex (heck, test out any of the Bad Sex award shortlist excerpts.)
But I digress. It happens when I get upset. What I really wanted to talk about was the conversation spawned by this article, along with something I thought about while I was at RWA.
I don’t have any particular love for awards ceremonies—I don’t watch the Oscars or Emmys or any of those things—and I’ve never thought about winning an award myself. But watching the Ritas, I thought I would like to win for one reason and one reason only: so I could tell the world how fabulous my husband is. Really, that’s the only acceptable venue for such a declaration.
And the thing is, our marriage isn’t perfect. I’m not giving away any secrets by saying that. But despite being a long-time romance reader, I never expected either my husband or our relationship to be without flaws. I don’t want a billionaire with a perfect body and a dark past that he can get over only with me. I do want, as Tessa says, fidelity, respect, and orgasms. And, to be brutally honest, I expect the first two from anyone I let into my life, if you define fidelity as “strict observance of promises,” as the dictionary does. The promise my husband made was that there would be no one else. Others may make different promises in their relationships.
Even in romances, relationships take many forms and the promises made vary from couple to couple—or trio to trio or quartet to…well, you get the idea. What’s important to a romance is that those promises are kept.
I will also not be giving away any secrets if I say that in the ten years of our marriage, my husband has had to deal with a lot more “in sickness” than “in health.” Unlike a woman I know whose husband left her after she was diagnosed with cancer, mine has never flinched from the doctors or hospitals. He doesn’t talk much, just does what needs doing.
That’s what I wanted when I got married—not a chisel-jawed billionaire or the leader of a motorcycle club or an ageless vampire. I frequently hear men say that romance novels give women unrealistic—and unreasonable—expectations. But that’s only because men are looking at the surface, the toys owned by the heroes, while women are looking beneath the perfect six-pack abs.
I feel intensely sorry for all those people who think that fidelity, respect, and orgasms are too much to expect all together in one relationship. (And to those women sacrificing the first two for the third, get the heck OUT. The third you can provide for yourself.)
The only requirement for a modern romance is that it features a protagonist who ends up in a committed relationship and that the story focuses in detail on the development of that relationship. Everything else is up for grabs. There can be murders, world destruction, werewolves, demons, tragedies, triumphs, explicit sex, implicit sex, no sex at all, divorce, massive family dysfunction…there are romances to suit every taste. And there are covers from the most abstract to the most explicit.
Decide what you want in a book and find it. Decide what you want in a relationship and go get it. Fidelity and respect (and orgasms) are not out of anyone’s reach.
by Laura K. Curtis | Jul 21, 2013 | Romance, Writing |
I’ll no doubt have more to say about RWA in coming weeks when my brain has settled somewhat, but first, a brief glimpse at my experience.
I arrived on Wednesday, got checked in, and met up with friends for dinner. After that, we went out to the Smart Bitches reader party, where we all wore mustaches. This took place in the back half of a music hall/restaurant/bar, and let me tell you, we got some highly intrigued looks from the “regular” patrons. My friends and I wore the plain black mustaches, but Kari Young (who I don’t know, but obviously should) brought one that matched her hair!
On Thursday, my agent’s agency had a luncheon at Mary Mac’s Tea Room. Naturally, it included fried green tomatoes. (I must say, being gluten free is not easy when traveling in the south.)
I mean, just look at those delicious fried green tomatoes! I wanted to eat them sooooo badly.
Then, right after the luncheon, I ran off to the indie signing to grab a book from the fabulous @briaquinlan for my niece. Here she is signing them. (I asked her to write the dedication to my niece and she was positively wicked in what she said. You would never guess to look at her–doesn’t she look sweet and innocent?–what an evil imagination she really has.)
On Friday, I had my own signing! It was fun, even if we at the InterMix table didn’t have physical books. InterMix has a sampler available with sample chapters from their 2013 titles and we had download cards for that (if you’re interested in the sampler, it’s free at all digital outlets). I also signed chocolate bars.
Friday night Penguin had a cocktail party for its authors, editors, etc, which was great fun because I got to meet people whose work I’ve been reading for ages.
Saturday, I finally had time to go to some panels. They were fascinating and so useful! Usually I manage to get to a lot of panels at national, but this year I was just ridiculously busy! I took some pictures at the panels, too, but then I lost my phone, so…
Before the awards ceremony for the Ritas and Golden Hearts, I went to dinner with old friends @IsobelCarr (the other half of my Twitter brain) and @SarahFrantz, and new friend Kris Hohls, of LoveLetter Magazine in Germany. We went to a fantastic restaurant called Abattoir. If you like meat, I highly, highly recommend it next time you’re in Atlanta. We were definitely the problem table because Isobel is allergic to eggplant, Kris is vegetarian, I am gluten-sensitive, and Sarah is extremely allergic to milk products. But the restaurant managed to feed us all admirably.
We made it back to the hotel just in time for the awards ceremony. And, of course, the Samhain after party, where they had excellent dancing music and delicious desserts. But I had to go to bed. I was exhausted.
by Laura K. Curtis | May 27, 2013 | Romance, The Romance Hero Handbook |
Many people get an immediate picture in their minds when you say “romance hero.” Great hair, great teeth…and plenty of rippling muscle. Whether businessman, mercenary or kilt-wearing historical Highlander, the image is always one of broad shoulders, tanned skin and, oh yeah, did I say rippling muscle?
Oddly enough—or perhaps not so oddly, if you’ve studied male and female psyches—the ones for whom the clearest “Fabio image” comes to mind are men, not women. Not to say women don’t appreciate beefcake, because they most certainly do (there’s a reason those hotties are on the covers), but women know there’s a whole range of sex appeal out there.
Plus, men are more visual than women. Women are more apt to care that you try to keep yourself in shape than that you actually manage to avoid the chip aisle. But you do have to try, so, unfortunately, the fact that women are more likely to be interested in your mind than your body doesn’t let you off the hook.
Why? Because lack of attention to your health and welfare shows a lack of respect for yourself. And if you don’t respect yourself, no woman will respect you either.
So what’s a poor schlub to do? You’re forty, you’ve never worked out a day in your life, and you can’t afford a gym membership. You’ve got a spare tire, you like beer too much to give it up, and you’re not looking to give yourself a hernia. Well, as any self-respecting trainer will tell you, the first thing to do is get a physical. Find out what you can and cannot do.
Once that’s done, maybe you should get a dog. Not only are dogs great companions for romance heroes (heroines can’t resist their furry faces), but they require exercise. Get out and walk. Heck, get out and run.
But perhaps your lifestyle isn’t exactly dog-friendly. You travel too much, or your landlord doesn’t allow pets. That’s a shame, but it’s not an excuse. When it comes to fitness and self respect, there are no excuses!
Consensus is that cardio helps you lose fat while working with weights helps you gain muscle. You need to do both. You won’t like both. Nobody does. Generally, people are built for one or the other—weight work or cardio—and forcing themselves to do the other is a major chore.
It’s definitely harder for the average Joe than it is for all the hot romance heroes who inhabit novels. After all, those guys spend their lives running through forests dodging bullets from cartel villains, captaining pirate vessels, and turning into wolves and dashing across the countryside.
But just because you aren’t fighting off raiding neighbors and kidnapping a bride doesn’t mean you can’t stay in shape. Here are a few tips:
- Start every meal with vegetables. Lots of vegetables. If you eat plenty of veggies, you won’t be as hungry for the other stuff.
- Take the stairs whenever possible.
- Walk whenever you can, whenever it’s an option.
Back in the second lesson, I mentioned that joining your local volunteer FD was a great way to become a reformable rake. It’s also a great way to get in shape. Join up with local guys and train. You aren’t going to be doing the caber toss or anything, you just have to get rid of some of the flab. (Plus there’s that whole “man in uniform” thing. But that’s for another lesson.)
Next, think about the things you do have room for in your living space. Most cardio will be taking place outside unless you have room for a bike or stair stepper or similar in your living space. For cardio, you’ll walk or run or the like. But for weight training, there are plenty of things you can do in a small space.
First, consider going to “back school.” Something like 75% of Americans experience back pain in their lifetime and for a large number of them, that pain is chronic. But “back school,” which is a combination of exercises generally prescribed by physical therapists, strengthens your core muscles to prevent back strain. (Plus, for the lazy among us, most of back school is done while lying on the floor.) You don’t want to lift your new heroine into your arms only to drop her on her butt when your back spasms!
You don’t need to do this!
Back school isn’t a one-time thing. It’s ongoing. You don’t need special equipment, though a balance ball and some light dumbbells will help. And you should invest in a trainer or physical therapist once or twice to show you the correct form—form is the most important thing when it comes to exercise! Don’t be fooled by all those people throwing massive amounts of weight around. That’s not necessary and it can hurt you more than help you.
Beyond back school, there are all kinds of things you can do using your own body weight. Pushups, squats, stretches, crunches…none of them require any equipment at all. With those light dumbbells and that balance ball, you can enlarge your workout and shrink your waist. You’re not trying to gain bodybuilder status, so don’t worry about the gigantic dumbbells—you’ll likely look like a gigantic dumbbell if you try to use them anyway.
More reps, lighter weight, concentrate on form and on keeping all your core muscles tight.
Most romance heroes don’t work out without a point; they need to be in shape to keep up with the demands of their lives. The high-powered businessmen frequently work out to relieve stress or because physical exertion helps with mental clarity. The cops, firefighters, and military men depend on their muscles every day. The Vikings need to be able to command respect and to fight off their enemies.
You should consider what you want to do once you lose the flab and gain the muscle. Maybe you’d like to be able to play sports with your friends. Maybe you’d like to gain some of that mental clarity (remember to put away your phone when you exercise—workouts are “you” time). Maybe you’d simply like to be able to walk around without your knees complaining so much. Remember that romance heroes don’t work out to attract women. They stay in shape for themselves, and that’s what you need to do, too.
by Laura K. Curtis | May 19, 2013 | Books, Romance |
I originally wrote this as a comment on a post over at Heroes and Heartbreakers, but I felt as if it deserved a post of its own because so many people in my personal community are talking about NA. This post is slightly modified from that, for both clarification and elaboration.
I can’t deal with NA fiction as a genre because it seems so much a part of the infantalization of America. I didn’t read much YA fiction as a child with the exception of The Outsiders. I went from kids’ books to adult books with no transition…and no problem. But I also got my first job at 15, a job I maintained through high school, and I worked continuously all through college, so when I got out of college, I wasn’t a “new adult,” I’d been an adult for several years.
Lots of people focus on the sexual aspect of NA. I’ve heard it called “YA with sex,” and Laurie Gold, who wrote the post on H&H that prompted this one, mentions that
In all the initial articles I read about New Adult Fiction, eroticism and Fifty Shades of Grey were always mentioned, which struck me as incredibly sad.
Well, yeah, that would strike me as sad, too, but mostly because it sounds as if NA is all about the sex. Sex and women who are doormats, waiting for a stalker/abuser to walk into their lives. Women with no personality of their own.
But plenty of people I respect say NA isn’t just YA with sex. They say it’s a different genre, and, frankly, I couldn’t care less about the sexual aspect. The adult stuff I read in my early teens, or even as what they would now call a “tween,” had sex in it. If kids want to read about sex, that’s between them and their parents. My parents didn’t care and it didn’t scar me forever…and even after reading all the non-consensual sex in the 1980s bodice rippers, I knew rape was wrong. (And reading all that sex didn’t mean I was *having* it…I was, among my crowd, late to the sexual party.)
In the 90s, almost all the romance I read would now be classified “new adult.” The heroines were rarely older than 27, the heroes never over 30. In fact, it got very irritating to me to be reading about them because they fell into one of two categories:
- no real life experience, so they were just starting out all wide-eyed and innocent
- far more life experience than any 25-year-old could possibly have–you know, the MD, PhD and three years with Doctors Without Borders type.
But now, we seem to have entered an era where people aren’t considered “adults” even in their twenties. They still live at home. They are still trying to figure out what they want to be. And that’s okay. It’s so okay, they even have a literature all their own. It’s true that romance in general seems to have aged up a tiny bit (and thank goodness for that) so that heroines who are doctors are realistically aged for their field, but there are still plenty of books out there for those interested in reading about 20-somethings.
I just feel as if encouraging people not to explore literature beyond their age group by saying “look, here are books specifically for you” does a massive disservice to both readers and the society at large.
by Laura K. Curtis | May 13, 2013 | Romance |
Courtesy of Smart Bitches, Trashy Books:
