No More Ms. Nice Gal (LynnK)

By now, I should be used to it. The dissing of romance novels, I mean.

It has been going on since a woman first penned a love story. That’s the key, really. If a woman wrote it, how good can it be? Women’s interests are so narrow and frilly and silly and, well, uninteresting.

Men have written love stories, too, of course. But one or the other of the lovers usually dies, or gets killed, or the relationship collapses, or there’s some sort of existential crisis at the end to prove that “this is not just a sappy love story that a female might write.”

I am, of course, excluding the excellent male romance-novel writers in our genre who usually take female or androgynous pseudonyms because they, too, could meet with prejudices over and above those we women writers deal with. Not from romance readers, I suspect. Only from the press, and from people who make themselves feel superior by sliming "girly men" who write about love.

Men’s action fiction, on the other hand, is full of important stuff like saving the world from evil terrorists/Spectre/a rogue asteroid. Or blowing things up . . . including rogue asteroids. These guys are physically the equivalent of deadly weapons or they carry really big guns. I know women who write in this genre, and of course, they use pseudonyms. Sexism operates on many levels in our society.

But its usual target is women, and in fiction, the bull's-eye is a romance novel. Love, commitment, struggles, compromise, risk, choice, family, community . . . yawn. Might as well watch reruns of Thirty Something. Never mind that these days, romance novels also pit valiant women against evil terrorists and asteroids. We’re kick-ass, if need be, in between civilizing the world and raising our kids. But the press has yet to figure that out.

All they know are the cliches. The Myths of the Seventies and Eighties have become ingrained in their saucer-deep minds. Romance novels are all about a silly female and her clothes, her advancement in society, her search for a handsome, wealthy tycoon or sheik or pirate to fulfill her fantasies, and sex.

Mostly about sex. That’s what really interests the journalists and the uninformed public. Especially in America, which is simultaneously hung up about sex and obsessed with it. Sex is forbidden, irresistible territory. So, to a degree, is rape, which made a splash a few decades ago, a splash never forgotten by the press. How bad can rape be, after all, when a romance novel hero does it and winds up with the heroine and a happy-ever-after?

I used to imagine drawing up a list of cliche words and phrases about romance novels and sending the list to the media. Heaven forfend they should leave any time-worn clunker out of the next tedious, phone-it-in article.

What set me off this time was a stupid poll on the MSNBC website. They had excerpted a section of the latest Danielle Steele novel and, about halfway through the posting, invited readers to cast a vote. Here’s the wording:

Do you read romance novels?
Yes, yes, yes! Bodice-rippers are my ultimate escape.
No way. I don't touch those books.
Sometimes, while on vacation or at the beach.

If you are reading this while the poll is still live, here's where you can vote:
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/25191970

The ingrained bigotry chafes my hide. “Bodice-rippers,” for pity’s sake. And why do they split the vote between people who prefer romance novels above all else to those who enjoy them from time to time?

Happily, Barbara Vey promptly took them on in her Publishers Weekly blog. She also kindly included a picture of a bare-chested Daniel Craig (the newest James Bond) emerging from the ocean. Hey, I never said I didn't appreciate a hunky guy!

You can see the picture and read Vey's comments here:
http://www.publishersweekly.com/blog/880000288/post/460028246.html

Let me add that Romance Writers of America (RWA) worked hard for a number of years to begin what is bound to be a long, slow journey to changing the public perception of romance fiction. It was my own preoccupation during the six years I served on the RWA Board of Directors. One major target back then was Publishers Weekly, the Industry magazine. Thanks to open-minded professionals like Daisy Maryles, favorable articles about romance novels and writers are no longer scarcer than nuns at a Vegas blackjack table.

Librarians are becoming our friends as well. I'll write about the vanguard of pro-romance fiction librarians after the San Francisco Conference in July, when I expect to get updates and lots of pictures.

Meantime, I have my own sad dereliction of duty to recount. Used to be, when asked what I wrote, I would answer the somewhat ambiguous Romantic Adventure, or Historical Romantic Suspense, or Paranormal Romantic Adventure . . . well, you get the drift. Weasel words, designed to disguise the Awful Truth and protect me from Negative Public Perception.

But now, sometimes forcing the words past my cowardice, I say, proudly, "Romance Novels." And then I savor the reactions.

Oh. If you're a romance reader, or even if you're not, you'll probably enjoy this video put together by some terrific writers who are rivals in the same category for a prestigious RITA award. We're not all sweetness and light. Check out the Trash Talk!
http://youtube.com/watch?v=y2UXH_LWkic