2011 Wrap-up: Writing

Believe it or not, writing is the main reason I started this blog in the first place. Of course I intended to post reviews and ramble about all sorts of things, but even the romance novels I read aren’t exactly those a romance reader would be interested in. Why? Because they’re mostly romance classics, by famous romance authors. Most romance readers will either have already read them, or be set on never reading them.

My purpose in discussing the romance genre was to prepare the ground for my own pieces of writing. I’ve always thought that if I was going to write romance, people who read me must first have some idea of what romance is. Not romance like in Emily Brontë or Jane Austen’s novels, but of modern romance as it is written by contemporary authors. Romance that allows for a strong subplot, supporting characters, sex, a certain liberty with realism, and a happy ending.

2011 was a rather good year in writing, although never as good as one wishes it had been. What is new?

It started with a 7K-word short story I wrote in January and submitted to a little friendly contest dedicated to romance subgenres. My pick was adventure/sci-fi. It got a mixed reception, and has since been lying in wait of editing.

In February I revived my FictionPress account to share my writings and get more opinions. On this occasion, I did a superficial edit of a 6.2K-word short story that had got rather positive reviews in a 2010 friendly contest.

In March I wrote a very short story (5.2K words) in English, inspired by all the high school romantic themes I found on FictionPress. I still don’t know how to interpret the fact that it got more feedback and response than anything else I posted on FP.

All the while I kept writing my vampire novel in English, eventually switching its main genre from romance to supernatural. It reached 15K words before I got stuck in a dialogue that raised more questions than I knew how to answer. It’s a cool project overall, so it would be a shame to leave it at that.

In May I quickly edited a short story (7.2K words) I’d written the previous summer, which I submitted to a romance readers’ yearly contest. It was a regular Regency love story, and it ended up 6th among 12.

Inspired by one of the other competing short stories, I wrote a 5K-word romance with a feminist theme in one afternoon, thanks to the 10,000 Words a Night challenge.

In the meantime I got started on another project: a fantasy novel in French. I wrote slowly but steadily throughout most of the summer, and managed to reach 23K words in the fall. As a consequence of quitting my job, I decided to sign up for NaNoWriMo, which helped me write 30K words more to my project.

I think I can safely say that I wrote about 80K words of fiction this year, which is not too bad, but hardly a full novel by my standards. I am left with one romance short story to edit, and most importantly, two novels, one in English and one in French, to finish!

My resolutions for 2012:

  1. Finish both novels!
  2. Edit the adventure/sci-fi romance short story.
  3. Finish and post a romance novella written in 2010.
  4. Finish (or at least work on the plot of) another novel in French.
  5. Finish/write one or more short stories for the romance readers’ yearly contest.
  6. Write at least two more romance short stories for friendly contests or projects.
  7. Let my creativity flow…

How much have you written this year? Do you have any writing goals or resolutions for the New Year?


Everything I Know About Love…, by Sarah Wendell (review)

A few weeks ago I was lucky enough to win an ebook copy of Everything I Know About Love, I Learned From Romance Novels (hereinafter referred to as EIKAL) on The Waterworld Mermaids’ blog. I say “lucky” not merely because it was a random draw with only one winner, and it turned out to be me, but also because as much as I enjoyed reading Ms. Wendell’s lively, sometimes caustic prose and nodding to her oh-so-true opinions, I’m glad I didn’t actually pay for it. Here’s why…

Sarah Wendell is none other but blogger SB Sarah (for “Smart Bitch Sarah”), co-founder of the popular romance review and discussion blog Smart Bitches, Trashy Books and co-author of Beyond Heaving Bosoms: The Smart Bitches’ Guide to Romance Novels. In this second opus which she wrote alone, she explores all the ways in which romance can positively impact its readers’ own experience of love and real-life relationships. And she does it very well, too, with excerpts and many quotes from romance readers and authors to support her claims.

Author Julia London says that her readers thank her for the ability to re-experience their joy and excitement through fiction: “[...] I think that feeling of falling in love is something we have all experienced and for many of us, that falling in love had turned to companionable love. Yet the feeling of falling in love is something we want to experience again, and I think readers can do that safely in a book and keep the love without giving up the love we have.”

- “We Know Who We Are, and We Know Our Worth”, Everything I Know About Love…, Sarah Wendell (Sourcebooks, 2011)

Now if the Beatles said so...

From the fact that reading about happy, optimistic endings helps readers relax and smile in real life to the do’s and don’t's we spot in the hero and heroine’s behaviours, everything is given due attention. Far from naively believing in the fantasies they read about, Sarah Wendell emphasizes the readers’ ability to discriminate between fact and fiction, as well as between which romance they like and dislike, or which hero they’d get along with, and which they wouldn’t stand in reality. She shows how varied the genre’s audience really is, and thus how it can both guide younger readers through their discovery of love, sex, and intimacy, and help more experienced ones rekindle the flame, keep their relationship exciting, or simply keep hope in second chances.

Yet sexuality is an enduring part of the romance genre, and one of the reasons it takes so much crap from people who don’t read it or understand it. [...]
Denise A. Donnelly, a sociology professor at Georgia State University who studies sexless marriages, said in a recent New York Times interview that “there is a feedback relationship in most couples between happiness and having sex. Happy couples have more sex, and the more sex a couple has, the happier they report being.”
But Donnelly points out that sexual relations are not the point. The requirement is intimacy: “Keep in mind that sex is only one form of intimacy, and that some couples are fairly happy (and intimate) even without sex.” In other words, intimacy is a requirement for healthy relationships.

- “We Know Good Sex”, Everything I Know About Love…, Sarah Wendell (Sourcebooks, 2011)

Obviously the book is brimming with quotes and passages I strongly agree with and wish everybody on earth could read and understand. But more than just a passionate defense of romance novels, EIKAL is also a witty, racy, humorous read that does not hesitate to make fun of the stereotypes in the romance genre, in a tone well known to those who read SB Sarah’s blogs. I challenge anyone to go through it all without bursting into laughter at least once!

At last, it is a book that celebrates love, relationships and happiness. As the author warns from the introduction chapter, “Happiness is Serious Business”. In spite of her denial of having written a self-help book, EIKAL contains many a timeless truth about what it takes to be happy, or what it means to love and be loved. As with most existential issues, it takes a balance between two seemingly opposed notions. On the one hand, you need to make the effort, question yourself and change your selfish, jealous and general douche bag habits. On the other hand, you should love yourself first, for happiness won’t happen when you become (or find) some ideal of perfection, but when you accept imperfection in yourself and others alike.

“A common misperception about romance characters is that they have to be perfect, that they’ve earned their HEA [...]. For me, characters ‘earn’ an HEA less than they ‘accept’ the HEA. I don’t think we (or characters) earn love or happily-ever-afters. They/we don’t start out unworthy and become worthy. They/we start out muddled and become less muddled. If we writers do our jobs well, they start out human and become more human.” – Anne Calhoun

- “We Know That Happily-Ever-After Takes Work”, Everything I Know About Love…, Sarah Wendell (Sourcebooks, 2011)

When all is said and done, why can’t I regret that I didn’t pay for this ebook? To be honest, only because these issues are so close to my heart I have already thought about them quite a bit. EIKAL made me happy, but it didn’t teach me a lot which I didn’t already know. Which won’t stop me from congratulating Sarah on putting together all this material and reflection, and recommending her book to absolutely everyone, especially those who have lingering prejudice against romance!

Have you read the Smart Bitches’ first book? Was it useful to you, or do I risk the same feeling of deja vu? Do you feel like romance may have helped you in your romantic or general life? If you don’t read any, do you believe that genre fiction can make people happier?


In defense of relationships

Do relationships really need to be defended? Don’t we already live in a society which frowns upon single people, and considers couples as the normal unit, even more so now than the multi-generational family? We unfortunately do, and so my purpose isn’t to confirm the same implicit message we seem to hear over and over again. In my very modest way, I aim at following in the footsteps of Claude Lefort, who has always defended human rights, and more ferociously so against those most commonly and loudly advocating them. So will I, in my defense of relationships, strongly oppose the reason why relationships are most often praised: that they are a measure of success, the evidence of being loved.

Mare and stallion, by me ;)

No, being in a relationship doesn’t mean you are better. In fact, it doesn’t per se allow for any judgment whatsoever. I cannot deduce anything from the mere fact that you are dating or sleeping with someone, or its contrary, that you are not. Being single or in a relationship at a given point in time does not define us.

I am also of the various opinions that: 1) you must learn how to be alone before being able to truly be with someone, 2) break-ups are healthy and you should walk away as soon and as often as you wish (though if it’s with the same person over and over, maybe ask yourself why you’re coming back?), and 3) being single and being chaste are two distinct things. For all these reasons, I want it to be obvious that I fully support singleness, and that being afraid of it can lead to some pretty nasty stuff like staying with someone you should definitely leave, or never taking some time alone for yourself, when you don’t have to worry about anyone in the world but you.

However, surprising as it may sound, I am writing this blog today to oppose the often repeated quote: it is better to be alone than in bad company. I do not oppose it entirely, but I do oppose its being used in the absolute, as well as the judgmental overtone it contains. Let’s say I am tired of hearing people maligned, mocked or pitied for their poor choice of partner, or people hiding their own cowardice behind self-righteous assertions. No, you don’t get to judge other people’s relationships and the reasons why they got into them. And no, having never been in a relationship yourself doesn’t make you more of an expert on what relationships should be and what patterns they should follow.

In other words, what I mean to defend today isn’t the successful, smooth, gradual, reasonable, well-balanced, healthy, loving relationship. This one doesn’t need my help to be put on the pinnacle. What needs my help, on the other hand, is the failed, the tentative, the hazardous, the crazy, the rushed, the clandestine, the stormy, the rocky, the ill-advised, the short-term, the casual, the loveless relationship. It is better to be alone than in one of those relationships, most people think. I disagree. As a rule, it is better to experience than not. It is better to live than to regret. It is better to take chances than to dismiss on sight. It is better to try than to avoid. It is better to have memories than nothing at all.

Hope is definitely not the same thing as optimism. It is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out.

- Václav Havel

I recently reblogged this quote on Tumblr, and I feel it describes my outlook so well. Romantic relationships and involvements make sense, regardless of their outcome. It isn’t the HEA that makes them matter; they already matter, just as they are. I have learnt so much about myself, about other people, about life in general throughout failed, short, impulsive relationships and casual, random hookups. I will not lie: I have believed, I have trusted, I have dreamt, and in return I have suffered, I have cried, I have been angry, sad, despairing and broken-hearted.* But I have built on these feelings, on the knowledge that they could happen, the knowledge of how and why they happened. What I built is stronger for the knowledge, stronger for these feelings.

© Andrzej Tylkowski

Then again, perhaps my position on this issue isn’t complete without my definition of love. All throughout these experiments, some fun, some distressful, some unexpected, some disappointing, I was looking for love. But love for me is an ideal, something we can only strive for in the reality of our concrete lives. So in the failure of my past relationships, where many people would see expressed the intimate relation between love and pain, I have seen nothing but a path out of pain, a path toward pain-free love. Wherever I found pain, I knew I was further from love; whenever I felt happy, I knew I loved. How would I have known true love without the compass of trial and error, of bygone relationships?

This explains, I think, the root of my reluctance towards virgin heroines in (contemporary) romance. It’s not that I can’t believe it. This sort of thinking is what leads to finding “good reasons” for the heroine to be virginal, which usually end up being very bad, even less believable reasons (she lived on a desert island until her 25th birthday, was locked up in the basement by an abusive father, etc.). But, I am afraid I can also not countenance the opposite call for more realistic virgin heroines: she has just never felt like it. That is fair enough in real life, but it contradicts the romance genre at its core.

I have actually realized I don’t much care whether the heroine is a virgin or not, as long as she will jump in with both feet where the hero is concerned. My only claim is that, if she’s going to take chances with the hero, shouldn’t she be a chance-taking gal in general, and shouldn’t she have taken chances before him too?** I am very sorry to say, romance does not depict women as they are according to statistics. Romance is a genre with a message, and that is, that sex and sexual desire aren’t shameful, but enjoyable; that women can feel attraction, desire and act on it, too; that being adventurous, overcoming one’s prejudice, daring what “other women” (or the norm for what women should be) dare not do is good, and will be rewarded.

Romance almost always says it is better to be in “bad company” than alone. Because “bad company” are the words venomous tongues use to disparage whoever isn’t like them, does not abide by the rules, and makes them feel uncomfortable. Being alone is easy; it’s what we all are by default. But overcoming one’s fears, one’s insecurities, one’s doubts and other people’s judgments, opinions and tongue-lashing by getting together with someone who may not be right for you, but whom you happen to like… now that is not so easy. However, it pays off. Even when it ends, even when you have to admit you were wrong, even when you’re alone again and lost. It pays off.

Have you also felt like the “I’m single and I’m happy” discourse tends to become as moralizing as the one it supposedly criticizes? Why does defending one’s status (single or in a relationship) always have to include untruths and contempt for the other? And lastly, what can prepare someone for a successful relationship better than a string of failed ones?

* I am such a cry-baby. For fairness’s sake, note that I have also been known to have depression and panick attacks and self-destructive behaviour when I was single (perhaps even more so), and that during all my months of dating guys with mental disorders on medication and other kinds of crap, I have never let myself feel trapped, deprived of choice or freedom or burdened by the sole fact of being with someone. It was mainly the difficulty of dealing with people who don’t respond to normal emotional stimuli, who physically suffer from side effects or addictions, have very dark outlooks on life and express confusion about a number of issues. It would have dragged anyone down, yet it eventually also toughened me up.

** A very interesting option IMO is found in Sabrina Jeffries’s In the Prince’s Bed, in which the hero tries to seduce the heroine with the argument that she should have a basis for comparison before committing herself to another. Life is also like that, that the best and strongest attachments can begin on the most frivolous grounds!


Romance against societal norms

By recommendation of the Modern Princesses, I picked up In Her Shoes at the library. It’s not a romance, more of a women’s fiction or, in my opinion, a chick lit novel. And though I enjoyed it, the things I enjoyed less all seemed to relate to the genre, and to point out why I still like romance better than chick lit: because, contrary to popular belief, romance makes much less room for stereotypes.

But first of all, what is the difference between romance and chick lit? They have some common points, as chick-lit books generally feature a romantic subplot and a happy ending. Moreover, some contemporary romances incorporate chick lit elements or aspects (some of Jennifer Crusie’s novels, for example, strike me as a successful cross between the two genres). However, in general, I would define chick lit as the story of a woman (or several women) who struggles to live up to societal norms and standards―be married with a career by thirty, be thin, have good sex, etc.―before eventually breaking free of all that pressure, while actually achieving some of these standards, as per the belief that “it will happen when you expect it least”.

In short, chick lit is about the conflict between women and society’s standards; a conflict which leads to a resolution, therefore a certain reconciliation with and acceptance of said standards. The romance only shows up in so far as “a stable and successful relationship” is part of these societal norms. In comparison, romance is about the conflict between two people (a woman and a man in het romance), which gets resolved by their falling in love with each other and happy ever after. Societal norms are relegated to the background, and more often than not, they contribute to the conflict: when the conflict is resolved, so are the norms rejected, refused, and condemned.

Here are a few examples of the chick lit stereotypes that annoy me:

1) Women are either too fat (for the norm), or they very explicitly don’t eat enough/don’t like food

from Bridget Jones's Diary (movie)

On the other hand, in romance heroines may have all kinds of problems: too tall, too skinny, too red-haired, too dark, wrong nose… Women are universally pressured about their appearance, not just the bigger ones in our size-obsessed societies. AND we also get heroines without physical hang-ups! Just because you know you look good doesn’t mean your life is made, or that you don’t deserve to be a heroine.

2) Heroines are plain, ordinary women who wish they were better (better-looking, better employed, richer, thinner, brighter, smarter…)

On the contrary, romance heroines generally have at least one thing unusual or exceptional about them that they already know about. They can be strikingly beautiful, or successful, or famous, or tough, or super intelligent, or especially talented in a given field. They are eccentric and different. They are inspiring.

3) Heroines are unhappily single and desperately hope to catch and keep the man they like (often obsessing about looks-related details, from shaving to lingerie)

A lot of romance heroines want to stay single, or for some reason have given up dating, or avoid a particular type of relationship or man. They often resist the hero, imagining tricks to put him off. If later in the story they have a reason for chasing, then they do so with enthusiasm and without shame, once again coming up with clever tricks or more simply throwing tantrums, but never trying to fit in what they think the hero expects them to be (except as part of a plan, as a lure).

4) The good guy is the nice, respectable, unremarkable one; the bad guy mainly wants to fuck you

Romance will tell you the opposite. There’s often a really boring, bland, albeit goodhearted ex or suitor whom the romance heroine insecurely clings on to, until she acknowledges the merits of some devastatingly sensual rake, ruffian, pirate, barbarian, low-life… or duke, or billionaire. Whose interest in the heroine usually begins with crude lust before leveling up to something nobler.

4) A successful relationship begins with (initially sexless) dating, continues with a proposal and ends with a marriage

Wow… I don’t even know where to begin. This reads like the antithesis of the typical romance. Think of all the romance cliches: the arranged marriage, the fake betrothal, the seduction, the kidnapping, the Big Misunderstanding, the mistaken identity, the secret child… or the most basic of all: being overwhelmed by a blind, irrational passion. In other words, romance protagonists tend to do either one of two things: marry before they even like each other, or fuck when they really shouldn’t.

Once again, we’re up against romance’s notorious “lack of realism”. But because chick lit relies on a lot more stereotypes, is it necessarily more realistic? Is it true that all women are fat or disordered, that we are average, unsuccessful beings, who must settle for the “nice guy” and follow the steps carefully in order to make our relationship work? How many real women actually are like that? Romance is much more fun, and more empowering to female readers, because it acknowledges all the ways a woman can be torn down, or blossom; all the ways she can be special, be better than men, take chances, change the world around her, be adventurous, keep hope, enjoy sex without guilt or consequences…

Chick lit thrives on taking a chaotic, unbalanced situation and setting it “right”. At the end of the chick lit novel, the heroine is the embodiment of what society wants women to be: good-looking enough, well employed, married or engaged to some nice, regular dude. Romance goes the other way around: it takes a peaceful, functional situation and throws in some chaos. In the beginning the hero and heroine will fight the chaos and strive to return to their previous, safe situations, but not only is it too late, they also learn that a little chaos is good, that it makes you feel alive and wonderful. In the end, their relationship is the talk of the town, the scandal of the year, the unlikely match, and they are cast out of “good society”.

If you are an avid chick lit reader (unlike me), are my assumptions mostly correct, or did I extrapolate from too narrow a sample? Are stereotypes in literature more acceptable if they are realistic? Which do you find more empowering: chick lit, or romance?


Realism vs idealism in modern romance

Most criticisms aimed at modern romance can be grouped under two main types: those that attack it on the grounds of lack of realism, and those that disparage it for its lack of idealism. It may seem contradictory at first sight, yet it isn’t if you stop and consider that modern romance, just like any other fiction genre, features elements of both realism and idealism. It just happens to be very stable ones: from one romance to another, the idealist aspect is always the same, while the realist ones likewise don’t vary. But first of all, what exactly do I mean by “realism” and “idealism”?

1) Realism

William Bouguereau, Câlineries (passage)

There is much in modern romance that feels real to its readers, which is probably the only valid explanation for its success. Dismissing romance as being mere “fantasy” is therefore an inaccurate shortcut that avoids real questions, by which I mean: how is romance realistic, and is realism always a good thing? We’ll define realism as whatever draws from firsthand, concrete experience, what seeks to faithfully represent the world as it is.

Probably because reality lends us too many examples of horror and misery, we have been used to think of realism as something that reveals the world’s shortcomings and bad ways. As I have already argued here (these two blogs actually complement each other), modern romance is true to this usual definition and does not shun pain, injustice or hardship in any way. Professional as well as personal failure is a common device used to create as much of a contrast as possible between where the protagonist comes from, and what they will find in the course of the book.

However, reality is not made up of suffering only, as Jennifer Crusie aptly points out, and the fact that the heroine and hero find happiness and love could also be considered as realistic. However, this is the fine line where realism and idealism mix, especially in historical romance, and as it is more often criticized as overly “romanced” and “idealized”, we will tackle this specific problem in a following paragraph. Instead, let’s look at why romance may seem too realistic to some readers’ minds. Indeed, as romance strives to relate to real people’s fantasies and experiences, it tends to reproduce stereotypes and social norms, which it will often portray in a flattering light if they are part of the main, successful love story.

Male-Female height differences for birth years of 1980-1983

Example: As quoted by Ms. Crusie, Jeanne Dubino claims that “the hero is always older, taller, and richer than the heroine”. Although the emphasized use of “always” invalidates her point (as this is simply not true), nobody can deny that what she sees as an absolute rule remains a clear pattern in romance. Those romance novels I’ve read which went against this pattern evidently existed, but they were few and far between. And of course, when I hear this kind of comment, I want to defend romance on behalf of realism: isn’t the male average height bigger than the female one? Don’t boys mature later than girls? Haven’t men got higher salaries than women?

I’m sure the critics will understand that romance wouldn’t stand a chance if it presented us too often with situations that remain unusual in the real world, ie couples in which the guy would be younger, shorter and poorer than the heroine. (Of all the guys I’ve been with, one-night stands included, I don’t think any fit any of these requirements. Yet I’m neither picky nor prejudiced.) On the other hand, it is romance authors and readers’ job to be careful that such efforts towards realism don’t fossilize into conservative, stereotyped models going against society’s changes towards equality.

2) Idealism

Whenever idealism is opposed to realism, the former often takes on negative connotations. For reasons that only our specific, narrow sociohistorical context can explain, sticking to reality as it is has become a more valid endeavour than trying to change the current reality into something better. I guess I like modern romance for that, that it keeps trying to set a better example rather than simply bemoan the current state of affairs.

Obviously, examples of happiness and love exist in reality, which provides romance with reference points to make it as realistic and believable as possible. The reason why I consider it idealistic anyway, is that it isn’t enough for romance to show us any kind of relationship that is reputed to work out, or which the people in it are merely content with. I can imagine how some couples in the Middle Ages were happy with what they had, because that is what made sense in their world, yet equality between husband and wife wasn’t achieved in any way. Well, modern romance wants none of that. It isn’t just a vehicle to express all and any definition of love or happiness: it is a definition unto itself.

Now let’s look more closely at how this is problematic, but in the end so much more rewarding than it is problematic. When I sent Slightly Scandalous to Bélier, I felt that it might be the one he would have the most trouble understanding and appreciating (which I tried to balance out by picking an author known for her relative realism and reserve). I couldn’t pinpoint why, though, until I read his review. Then it came back to me in one word: idealism. Historical romance mixes modern ideals (on love and happiness, mainly) with historical settings, something neither contemporary romance nor historical fiction does. Because of that, historical romance is not just romance in a historical setting, but something completely different, completely original, completely unique.

You definitely need to “suspend your disbelief” if you want to truly enjoy historical romance. By definition it is unrealistic at its very core. But is this lack of realism bad? Is it only an easy way out for authors who can’t be bothered to fully recreate the frame of mind of a past era? In truth, what is it really? Why would anyone choose to do such a thing? Well, idealism. Because you believe in something that is too important to yield to a mere literary rule (the necessity of realism), which has moreover been much undermined since fantasy genres have become so popular. Modern romance basically says: “Fuck what was (or still is) considered proper or good or desirable at a given time in a given culture: it was oppressive to women, lower classes, and non-Westerners! I’ma show you what I consider good and desirable!”

When we had a discussion on Pride and Prejudice, by Jane Austen, it was very interesting for me to note that many romance readers had reservations on all aspects that pertained, in my opinion, to the mores of the time. Although Darcy’s pride is described as a flaw, and he is seen to later overcome it, for many modern readers it was either incomprehensible or unacceptable. And it is, too, in today’s eyes. There are no social classes to speak of anymore, and if there are some remnants of it, then talking about them in terms of who’s better is completely unthinkable. And it isn’t just political correctness―we are simply used to thinking of society and individuals in a completely different way, and our contemporary reality mostly supports us doing so.

I think, therefore, that no matter how fond you are of Jane Austen and realism, it would be a great mistake nowadays to write historical romance with the aim of truly recreating that day and age’s mentality. If you did, then that’s historical fiction. But romance is romance; it has to say that love means equality between partners, that the heart speaks true, that women deserve it, that sex isn’t evil, that desire is human, that freedom is essential. It has to say all that, and it won’t be stopped by qualms about historical realism.

Which do you think is worse: too much realism, or too much idealism? Do you remember having to jump the gap between historical facts and modern romance when you first read historical romance? Do you now understand why I coined the term “modern romance” to speak of the genre too vaguely known as romance, and often likened to the works of Austen or the Brontë sisters? Do you agree, for that matter, with the distinction I make between these two types of literature?


Lady’s Choice, by Jayne Ann Krentz (review)

Lady’s Choice is a slim contemporary novel of only 250 pages. Being accustomed to romance novels of 350 to 400 pages, I was not a little intrigued by the reason why Krentz had made this one so short. Especially after reading it and finding it smoothly written, with a good and steady rhythm all the way through. A quick research revealed what I should have suspected from the start, if I had noticed all the obvious signs: Lady’s Choice is a Harlequin category romance. Even if the new cover says MIRA. But if you have no idea what I’m talking about, now may be the time for some modern romance history and trivia.

When they hear “romance”, most people who don’t read it think “category romance”: Harlequin, Mills & Boon. 150 pages of short, cliched easy-reading. Up to a certain extent they are correct. I understand that this is indeed how romance began. Over forty years ago. Harlequin was founded in 1949; Mills & Boon in 1908. Looks like you’ve got some catching up to do, eh? And FYI, Harlequin is Canadian (Toronto-based), while Mills & Boon was originally British.

Harlequin started out as a paperback reprinting company, selling the works of authors such as Agatha Christie and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle for a quarter. Only in 1957 did they become involved in romance by obtaining the rights to distribute Mills & Boon romance in North America. In 1971, Harlequin bought Mills & Boon, and initially went on publishing solely British writers. As the romance genre developed in the United States, though, New York publisher Simon & Schuster created Silhouette Books to compete with Harlequin and publish American authors addressing American issues in American settings. Harlequin bought Silhouette in 1984.

In the meantime, many more American publishers were joining the romance market, increasing the number of category romance lines (there was only one up to 1973). With the 1990′s, the romance industry changed again under the impulsion of writers who wanted to publish single-title romance, as opposed to category romance. To stop them from leaving the company, Harlequin launched new imprints such as MIRA. In an effort to differentiate this new type of romance novels from their well-ingrained category romance image, Harlequin have been very careful not to feature their distinctive name or logo anywhere on MIRA books.

(Most of this info was gleaned on the Wikipedia page for Harlequin Enterprises.)

Jayne Ann Krentz sold her first novel in 1979, a time when there was only category romance. Although she is one of those who eventually broke the mould and strove to write what she pleased (she is known for penning the first famous sci-fi romance in 1986 with Sweet Starfire), in the first years of her career she had little choice but to write category: Lady’s Choice was thus initially published in the Harlequin Temptation line. All I can say is that 250 pages is long, and Lady’s Choice is good, for standard category romance―if it wasn’t, it wouldn’t have been reissued as single-title, both in paperback and hardcover.

A peek at the story: Juliana Grant is a tall, passionate but pragmatic red-haired businesswoman who knows what she wants, and never fears to be candid about it. And what she’s wanted since she met Travis Sawyer, her new business consultant, is to marry him. Too bad it doesn’t fit in his plans. After getting cheated by the Grant family five years ago, he is determined to have his revenge on them. On all of them. Now if only he didn’t want Juliana so much…

In the beginning, I was afraid I was going to hate Juliana. A woman who expects a man to propose after their first night of sex? Come on… Thank God, while that behaviour is typical of what makes her unique and “crazy” (in a good way), we soon find out that she’s had an instant intuition about Travis being the man for her. And the rest of the book is all about her going: “Was my intuition wrong this time?” Another thing about her is that she is “too much woman”. Not being very girly or feminine myself, I don’t identify with these heroines easily. But then two things occurred to me: 1) this is the 80′s; 2) this is not serious! In the end, I had quite some fun picturing her in her outrageous outfits and ultra-modern house:

The electric-blue jumpsuit she’s been wearing should have looked tacky or at least overpowering, and on anyone else it probably would have. But on Juliana it looked just right. It was as bold and animated as she was.

- Lady’s Choice, Jayne Ann Krentz (MIRA, 1989)

2006 hardcover reissue

This short novel really is all about the heroine―for once the title is relevant. As a result, the hero didn’t make a lasting impression on me. I could hardly visualize him wearing his “conservative striped ties” and driving his “nondescript Buick”. The motive for his revenge also didn’t fully convince me; not because it wasn’t strong enough, but on the contrary, it seemed too big a deal for Juliana to resolve so technically. Travis and her family have a painful, awkward history together, yet past the unpleasant surprise of finding out, she doesn’t really seem to care. I guess it’s the heroine’s prerogative to be mature enough to get over such annoying details, but in this case it felt just a little too artificial. Revenge plots are hard to carry through.

“You’re engaged to me, you bastard,” she yelled back through the windshield. “You can’t walk out on me like this. I deserve an explanation and I’m warning you right now, whatever the explanation is, it won’t be good enough. Because we aren’t just engaged, we’re partners, remember? You might be able to end an engagement like this, but you can’t end a business relation so easily.”

- Lady’s Choice, Jayne Ann Krentz (MIRA, 1989)

You have to admit, Juliana is glorious. Read this book for her, because she doesn’t do half-measures, never gives up, and always gets what she wants.

Have you read Lady’s Choice, or Krentz’s other category romance? Is there a type of heroine you love above all, or can’t stand? Can you like a romance book in which the hero is forgettable?


The happy end, or what love is, part 3

Many people who are unfamiliar with modern romance often think that it includes any plain old love story. Well, it doesn’t. (Which is why it’s silly to even compare modern romance with love story classics.) For many reasons. One of these reasons, which I picked for today’s Opinion Blog, is the Happy Ever After, or HEA, which must conclude every romance novel. So what is this about? Is the happy ending only a feelgood device meant to take the readers’ mind off the grimness and misery of real life?

Ah, not really. First of all, modern romance isn’t exactly all pink bunnies and fluff. There are obviously trends and styles, authors who do write light and humourous stories vs authors who like to wrench their readers’ guts and make them cry. And modern romance certainly aims at developing an optimistic and positive message. However, whatever success must crown romance love stories, it never comes down to sheer luck, coincidence, or having things handed over on a silver platter―otherwise there wouldn’t be any plot, now would there? Modern romance characters struggle with the past, the present, experience hardships and difficulties, and are sometimes up to their neck in thick, sticky shit.

Modern romance isn’t about having it easy, or easier than real people in real life. It is, in fact, quite the opposite. In order to build proper tension and conflict, authors will not hesitate to insert all kinds of traumas in their characters’ pasts or to put them in ridiculously tough situations. Now the whole challenge for a romance author is to bring her protagonists from shitty point A to wonderful point B and have her readers believe it. Romance is not BS. You can’t take a crack addict heroine and make her recover through sheer force of will in a couple of months, for instance. But you can imagine one who used to be an alcoholic and is working towards patching up her life ten years later. Or you can decide that this is heavy stuff you don’t want to get into, and choose stable, healthy characters from the start.

© Andrzej Tylkowski

All in all, I tend to view modern romance as stories about people who overcome their problems. Because even if that doesn’t faithfully represent statistics (in real life, some people fail to overcome their problems), at least that’s inspiring and uplifting and definitely constructive. I am not opposed to reading books that end badly once in a while, because they still might have a valuable, if different purpose, but in general, why would I want to read about how someone failed to fix their problem? What does that teach me? How does that help me? It only tells me, “Don’t do that,” using reverse psychology.

Maybe it’s just me, but I don’t exactly adore it when people tell me not to do such and such. (It’s just annoying, you know.) I’m much more interested in reading examples of what people did to succeed. Moreover, it leaves the field open for whatever you might want to try. Books with happy endings can’t say, “You must do exactly the same thing to get exactly the same result,” for that doesn’t make sense. We’re all different and we all have different goals. The moral is therefore necessarily much more subtle and flexible than in sad-ending books; it’s only, “Well, this person did that. You go from here.”

Now, a lot of things in life don’t fully depend on ourselves. Where these things are concerned, overcoming problems or succeeding may often include a certain amount of luck, I admit it. Yes! but… love isn’t one of these things. Love is the one, unique, extraordinary thing in life which depends on us completely and always. (Get this straight: whenever I’m talking about love, I almost always mean the love you give.) That is the only reason why there is a Hell for people who don’t love God, by the way―because unless you’re a Calvinist and believe in predestination (argh!), then you may recognize that each person is 100% free to decide for themselves whether to love God or not, and face the consequences.

Back to romance: if love is entirely under our own conscious control, I’d like to go so far as to suggest that happy-ending love stories are, ultimately, the only love stories. Okay, no, there’s the sort of story like Romeo and Juliet, where shit is heaped upon the main couple until they both die (sadly I can’t find the link to that article about how Romeo and Juliet is more like an anti-romance filled with implicit “thou shalt not do”s). In that sense it’s more a tragedy than any kind of love story. Real love stories have to end happily, because that’s what love does: it makes one happy. If it doesn’t, sorry, it’s not love. In other words, the HEA is not just icing on the cake, or the touch of fantasy that makes a novel better than reality: it’s the crucial element which validates the love in the story. It’s what says: it’s not infatuation, it’s not an immature crush, it’s not simple passion or lust, it’s not selfish interest―it’s LOVE. For love conquers all and lasts forever. (If it doesn’t, sorry, it’s not love.)

As a conclusion, I stumbled upon this article by romance author Jennifer Crusie which you must read because it’s so true and well-articulated: Romancing Reality: The Power of Romance Fiction to Reinforce and Re-Vision the Real

Do you like happy or sad endings better? Why? Do you think it’s possible to decide whether happiness or sadness is the more realistic, or is it only a matter of being a pessimist or an optimist? ‘Cause good things do happen to some people, don’t they?


First contact: 1) The heroine’s POV

Inspired by Jay Kristoff’s guest entry @YA Highway about writing outside your gender, I decided to examine how well (or not) modern romance authors dealt with differences between the heroine’s point of view and the hero’s. I specifically intended to question the part concerning “how we perceive the opposite gender”.

Now, I’m not denying there is a difference, let alone that these differences have frozen into well-oiled stereotypes… For example, as you will notice in the examples below, it’s true that female writers are obsessed with eyes. Even when they can’t tell the colour, they have to say so, or take a guess at it. But the fact remains for me―and authors should think about it when they write, rather than head straight to cliches―that your heroine ought to notice first whatever’s most striking about your hero: eyes usually work if the heroine sees him close up, but not all beautiful men need special or beautiful eyes.

But before I say more, let’s have some fun… (The books were chosen randomly among titles I liked.)

His gaze was cold and grim, and it sent frightening impressions running through her head.
Gray eyes so pale they were almost silver. Eyes that knew no mercy.
Crisp brown hair whose tendency to curl hadn’t quite been tamed by a no-nonsense cut. A man who made his own rules and answered to no one.
Hard muscle and sinewy strength. A physical animal.
Brutal cheekbones and a ruthless jaw. No softness there. Not even a speck of the gentler emotions. This man was a conqueror, designed by nature to make war.

- Nobody’s Baby But Mine, Susan Elizabeth Phillips (Avon, 1997)

That’s beginning with gusto! So, I love SEP’s stories and writing. And what’s funniest in that excerpt is that the whole description actually serves, even more than to tell us how hot the hero looks, to create tension in the scene, make the heroine’s expectations clash as harshly as possible with reality, and explain the absolute, hilarious awkwardness that follows… Don’t take it literally.

With his tie loosened and the top button of his white shirt undone, long sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, Annie’s new boss―and her brother’s best friend from their high school days―was scary handsome. With his thick dark hair, deep brown eyes, and that face like a movie star, he was TDH to the max.

- Force of Nature, Suzanne Brockmann (Ballantine Books, 2007)

TDH = Tall, Dark and Handsome

Forearms… *drools*

He was a tall, long-limbed young man, she saw in the ample light from the window. And very blond. He was probably blue-eyed too, though there was not quite enough light to enable her to verify that theory. She could see quite enough of him, though, to guess that he was by far too handsome for his own good.

- Slightly Scandalous, Mary Balogh (Dell, 2003)

A little change of tone for this historical romance… But of course, she notices his general stature before she tries and guess at his eye colour, since that’s what we usually do when we see someone for the first time.

He was wearing a biker jacket in spite of the heat, and his long legs were covered in leather as well. He had steel-toed shitkicker boots on, and he moved like a predator.
Beth craned her neck to look up at his face.
God, he was gorgeous.
His jaw was a straight shot of bone, his lips full, the hollows under his cheeks casting heavy shadows. His hair was straight and black, falling to his shoulders from a widow’s peak, and he had the shadow of a dark beard.

- Dark Lover, J. R. Ward (Signet, 2005)

Personal taste: I’m not a fan of Ward’s vampires’ looks. I cannot for the life of me imagine a man being gorgeous who’s huge (height-wise, not… you know, although of course this one hero is both) and without body hair (which we learn when he undress). Very tall guys just don’t do it for me, nor does hairlessness. That’s why, maybe, you shouldn’t always be too specific, and rather leave details to the reader’s imagination.

Her first impression of the man had been fragmented. Compelling eyes, fair coloring, a well-shaped, mobile mouth. It wasn’t until she stepped away that she realized he was the handsomest man she had ever seen. His longish hair shimmered with every blond shade from gilt to dark gold, and the bone structure or his face make angels weep with envy.

- Angel Rogue, Mary Jo Putney (Topaz, 1990)

The heroine meets the hero by falling on top of him. Which explains that her first impression of him focuses on his face.

Besides being even more handsome than she had thought, he was at least six feet three inches tall, broad shouldered and athletically muscular. His thick dark hair was coffee brown, beautifully cut and styled. Masculine strength was carved into every feature of his proud profile, from the straight dark brows to the arrogant jut of his chin and jaw. His mouth was firm, but sensually molded.

- Double Standards, Judith McNaught (Pocket Books, 1984)

Save from the 6’3″ cliche (really? who actually likes tall men?), this passage nails it for me. From the general (height, build, body type) to the particular (brows, jaw, mouth), and more evocative than purely descriptive. The readers are left to imagine for themselves what a “proud profile” looks like, or “beautifully cut and styled hair”. I guess each person has their own notion of what that may mean.

At first glance, he was an average looking, a mild-mannered, dark-haired, Clark Kent kind of guy with horn-rimmed glasses in a beat-up nothing-colored jacket; the only notable thing about him was Andrew’s “Bitch” baseball cap that he’d swiped from her back at Clea’s.
On second glance, the glint in his eye and the set of his jaw made her twitch.

- Faking It, Jennifer Crusie (St. Martin’s Press, 2002)

Another favourite of mine. A description that practically tells you more about the heroine than the hero she’s looking at. In the end, we don’t have a very clear image of what he looks like, but more of what she sees in him, what she likes about him.

Handsome, too. Tall, although not overly so, with warm brown hair and a rather pleasing smile. And a twinkle in his eyes as well, the color of which she couldn’t quite determine in the dim night air.

- On the Way to the Wedding, Julia Quinn (Avon, 2006)

Typical Quinn. The recognition (that the hero’s hot) is instantaneous, but measured. We’re in a Regency world, after all, so you couldn’t get away with things like, “What a sexy beast!” I also like that this author plays with two levels of handsomeness: the objective one, which is immediately apparent but in itself never enough to fall for, and the subjective, passionate one the characters acquire as their feelings develop.

So how do you like that? Overdose of supremely handsome men? But that’s the stuff heroes are made of, you know… I was reminded while compiling these excerpts of a jeering comment made on some MMA blog about Lori Foster’s description of her hero in one of her SBC Fighters books. Men, or any kind of ignorant people will thus often trash romance under the pretext that it’s mushy/syrupy. As if. Scared of a woman who knows what she likes, guys? Scared of a woman who calls a penis a penis? Scared of a woman who judges a man by looks? Who’s the mushiest gender now?


Since I brought up the topic of MMA, here’s a telling example: over a week ago, Strikeforce featured the women’s title fight in bantamweight division (126-135 pounds), and while my boyfriend was trying to defend women’s MMA to his friend, the latter seemed more interested in debating on how “pretty” Coenen and Tate were (or weren’t). Unfortunately, I think it’s an accepted fact that men will always issue a judgement of the opposite sex’s appearance, no matter their position or the context, while they’re used to women not commenting men’s looks nearly so much. The irony is that when we do, men call us “women” and claim not to understand all this stupid romantic stuff… Next time I catch my guy friends discussing who’s hot and who’s not, I’ll be sure to laugh at their corny, sentimental souls.

What makes a good hero description? Do you believe that there are general rules of what a woman sees first in a man? What do you think of the handsome hero stereotype?


Concours Les Romantiques: les résultats!

Les résultats tant attendus du Grand concours “La nouvelle Romantique” 2011 sont sortis! Vous pouvez les découvrir sur le site Les Romantiques en cliquant ici. Ce qu’on peut voir très clairement, c’est que Nuit gitane, Corps à corps brûlant et La récompense ont à peu près tout raflé!

Mes impressions à chaud: c’est la nouvelle avec le plus de clichés qui a gagné! La preuve que, si la romance n’est pas condamnée aux clichés, elle reste un genre privilégié pour ceux-ci? Pas que je sois contre dans le principe, comme je l’ai expliqué dans le blog Codes vs clichés… Pour comparer le palmarès officiel avec mes goûts personnels, voici le vote que j’avais effectué dès le 20 juin:

1ère place: La récompense (5)
2ème place: Entends ma prière (13)
3ème place: La curiosité est un vilain défaut (11)

Contexte: Corps à corps brûlant (3)
Émotion: Nouveau départ (12)
Intrigue: La sorcière de Lord West (2)
Humour: La récompense (5)
Style: La lettre perdue (7)

Avoir mes coups de cœur personnels ne m’empêche cependant pas de comprendre le vote global; d’ailleurs, si vous vous reportez au petit bilan que j’avais effectué lundi de la semaine passée, ma notation n’est pas si loin du résultat final… À part, il est vrai, pour Corps à corps brûlant qui a remué en moi des souvenirs pénibles; que voulez-vous, les dragueurs qui n’en veulent qu’à mon corps, j’ai déjà donné… et cela n’a rien de romantique à mes yeux.

Mais enfin, passons à la révélation que vous attendez toutes et tous: quelle nouvelle est donc la mienne? Au risque de vous décevoir (ou de vous enchanter, ha ha), je confesse être l’auteure de la nouvelle 6, intitulée Une fiancée pour Lord Wolserstone. Les lectrices ont réussi à la placer en 6ème sur 13, ce qui n’est pas mal et en l’occurrence, me satisfait entièrement! Au vu de la compétition et des défauts que comportait ma nouvelle, c’est tout ce que j’espérais, ni plus ni moins. Il est temps maintenant de répondre aux critiques:

Comment se fait-il qu’ils [le héros et l'héroïne] ne se soient jamais rencontrés alors que le héros était fiancé à sa sœur ????? Il aurait au moins du être présent à l’enterrement non ?

Cet état de fait en a surpris plus d’une. Or d’après ma compréhension de l’époque, les jeunes filles de ce milieu étaient extrêmement protégées, presque coupées du monde. Je vous renvoie à une scène de Mansfield Park, de Jane Austen, où Miss Crawford exprime sa confusion quant au statut de Fanny, qui participe aux événements sociaux (de sa propre famille!) comme si elle était out, c’est-à-dire sortie, présentée en société. J’en ai donc déduit que, malgré leur lien de sororité, Agatha n’avait pu avoir accès à aucune des occasions où sa sœur rencontrait son fiancé, tant qu’elle-même n’avait pas été officiellement introduite en société. J’avoue n’avoir toutefois pas considéré le cas de l’enterrement… Mea culpa.

L’héroïne est une petite chose fragile, peu sûre d’elle, prête à s’évanouir quand il y a trop de monde autour d’elle. Et tout à coup, elle devient une héroïne forte, presque indépendante

from Sabrina Jeffries' website

Ce genre de ressenti est légitime, néanmoins j’aimerais souligner que le seul fait de n’être pas à l’aise (autant physiquement que psychologiquement) dans un type bien particulier de société (j’aimerais vous voir à un bal du XIXème siècle! LOL) ne signifie pas forcément que l’on est fragile, indécis ou soumis. J’imaginais l’héroïne comme quelqu’un d’assez à l’aise et déterminé chez elle, à la campagne, parmi les siens. Elle n’aime juste pas les salles combles, les bals, devoir paraître, ni la situation dans laquelle elle se trouve vis-à-vis de sa sœur.

[le héros] saute dans le second mariage sans connaître la femme simplement sous l’insistance de son père, comme s’il était une jeune débutante qui n’a pas le choix ? Bizarre.  En plus, vingt-cinq/six ans, ça me parait un peu jeune pour être préssurisé comme cela dans le mariage à cette époque pour un homme.

Ne pas sous-estimer le pouvoir d’autorité du père dans les sociétés traditionnelles! Le peu de cas que les occidentaux libéralo-démocrates modernes font actuellement de l’opinion de leurs parents n’est pas un bon étalon pour juger de la force de caractère d’une personne… Encore une fois, on peut avoir une personnalité forte, faire généralement peu de cas de l’opinion des autres comme de sa propre sécurité, et cependant demeurer respectueux de ses parents jusqu’à sacrifier sa propre volonté à la leur pour ce qui leur importe vraiment (ie la continuité de la lignée). Encore dans la seconde moitié du XVIIIème siècle, beaucoup de nobles étaient fiancés dès l’enfance, et il y avait de nombreuses chances de mourir jeune; j’ai pensé que cela n’avait pas tant changé sous la Régence.

Il a été ébloui par la beauté et la vitalité de la soeur, qui est très différente, sur le plan physique de l’héroïne : et il la veut comme aucune autre.

Effectivement: ébloui, mais pas touché. La sœur correspond à tout ce que le héros s’était fait comme idée abstraite et objective de la femme parfaite. Agatha, en revanche, éveille en lui quelque chose de beaucoup moins rationnel, il éprouve une sorte de connexion avec elle sur un plan plus intime, plus personnel.

il n’y a pas d’évolution de sentiments (en fait, ils ne se connaissent pas très bien)

© Andrzej Tylkowski

Je reconnais avoir écrit une nouvelle à coup de foudre. Dans un sens, ils se plaisent dès le départ, alors non, il n’y a pas de surenchère de ce côté-là. Ceci dit, la scène hot était censée représenter le tournant dans leurs sentiments plus profonds, par l’échange de confiances qu’elle symbolisait. Elle est la preuve qu’ils sont prêts à s’engager l’un envers l’autre, à s’accepter inconditionnellement tels qu’ils sont, et pas seulement à se soumettre passivement à des fiançailles arrangées par leurs parents.

J’adore les héros jaloux, mais là je n’ai pas trop aimé sa réflexion personnelle, en gros, “si moi je peux pas danser elle a qu’à s’en passer”

Le côté irrationnel de la remarque était voulu; c’est à cela qu’on reconnaît qu’il s’agit de jalousie et non d’une réflexion fondée. En même temps, je ne vois pas ce qu’elle a de si fort… [L'autre jour j'ai accompagné mon amoureux à un concert, et bien que j'adore d'habitude être dans la fosse pour danser, cette fois je me suis assise pour rester avec lui, car sa blessure lui fait mal s'il reste debout trop longtemps. Cela m'a paru tout naturel, pas du tout comme un sacrifice!]

Bien sûr j’ai souri quand elle pense qu’il est “le plus bel homme sur lequel elle eût jamais posé les yeux” ah là là, ces héroïnes qui tombent tout de suite sous le charme des héros, elles en ont bien de la chance :P

Comment résister, lorsque c’est du vécu ? ;) Je ne veux pas que mes héroïnes aient moins de chance que moi…

quand le héros, grand seigneur, après avoir couché avec l’héroïne, lui dit : “Finalement tu as le droit de changer d’avis et de ne pas m’épouser !” Ça me donne toujours l’impression que l’héroïne n’a pas été assez “bonne” (pardon pour l’expression) et que le héros cherche une échappatoire. Genre j’ai testé mais pas approuvé.

LOL. J’admets que cela peut donner cette impression; j’aurais dû tourner la chose autrement, car tout ce que je voulais faire passer, c’était l’importance que le héros accordait à la volonté positive de l’héroïne. Un héros qui a “approuvé” est en effet anxieux de se voir également “approuver” de l’héroïne; une réaction égoïste et autoritaire du type: “C’est bon pour moi, alors c’est bon pour toi” n’était pas envisageable, et c’est cela que j’ai voulu absolument éviter.

Ils se voient vraiment trop peu pour que je puisse croire en leur amour et les fois où ils se voient avant la scène hot, le héros lui parle à peine et assez méchamment [...] Ce qui fait que je ne m’explique pas ce qui fait que le héros ose faire une telle proposition à l’héroïne et pourquoi l’héroïne accepte.

J’accepte la critique, mais quand même: il faut se rappeler qu’ils sont a priori déjà fiancés. Ils ont beau ne pas se connaître personnellement, ils partent avec une motivation sérieuse pour faire que “ça marche” entre eux. Ils en arrivent très vite au marché/chantage car, ayant chacun de leur côté conçu un intérêt pour l’autre qui leur fait espérer un vrai mariage (ie d’amour), ils veulent désormais tester l’autre, découvrir ce que l’autre ressent et est prêt-e à donner. Sauf qu’ils ont tous les deux quelques problèmes de communication… LOL

Enfin, je précise que je n’avais pas pensé en la concevant que j’écrivais une nouvelle sur le handicap. Pour moi, le “handicap” du héros était un prétexte, qui me permettait de présenter sa personnalité en même temps que de mettre du challenge dans son histoire d’amour, et aussi une métaphore. Je crois que nous avons chacun en nous quelque chose de laid et/ou d’embarrassant, qui peut être sans importance dans la plupart des situations, de même que tout à fait non-problématique pour la plupart de nos relations, parce que la plupart des gens ne sont tout bonnement pas assez proches pour la voir ou la subir réellement. Sauf que, lorsqu’on entre dans une relation d’amour, voilà une chose que l’on ne peut plus cacher, mais encore davantage, que l’on ne veut plus cacher. L’autre personne saura-t-elle la supporter? C’est uniquement cela, le pari de l’amour…

Vos commentaires sur ma nouvelle ou sur le concours sont les bienvenus!


13 nouvelles romantiques (review)

Pour les francophones qui me lisent, j’ai l’honneur de vous annoncer ou de vous rappeler que le vote est ouvert! Le vote pour quoi? Mais pour le Grand concours “La nouvelle romantique”, évidemment, dont je vous rebats les oreilles depuis plus d’un mois…

Les 13 nouvelles participantes (alors, ça porte bonheur ou malheur?) sont en ligne, et le vote se déroulera sur les dix jours qui viennent. Malin: pour éviter les votes irréfléchis, chaque votant-e doit choisir non pas une nouvelle préférée, mais trois, en plus d’une nouvelle pour chacune des cinq catégories (contexte, émotion, intrigue, humour, style). Pas moyen pour quiconque de contacter tous ses amis en disant: “Votez pour moiiii!!” Je me contenterai donc de vous exorter à tout lire, et à voter selon votre cœur…

Pour lire les nouvelles: ici
Pour voter: ici
Pour les résultats et nouvelles des années précédentes: ici

Voici en attendant mes impressions en bref:

1) Pari perdu (historique/Régence?) 6/10
Points positifs: Le cliché du pari – les dialogues entre le héros et l’héroïne – le couple secondaire Georges/Mary
Points négatifs: Le héros, séducteur vantard – le basculement brutal du “non” au “oui” de l’héroïne – les erreurs dans les titres (de noblesse) – le ton anachronique

2) La sorcière de Lord West (historique/victorien) 7/10
Points positifs: L’intrigue à la conte de fée – le ton léger, voire humoristique – la scène hot (circonstances et écriture) – la chute
Points négatifs: Invraisemblance et anachronisme de l’histoire – la rapidité des événements entre le couple – l’écriture pas toujours maîtrisée

3) Corps à corps brûlant (contemporain) 4/10
Points positifs: L’intrigue osée et prometteuse
Points négatifs: La virginité et la pudibonderie de l’héroïne – qu’elle dise “oui” au premier inconnu dragueur – l’insistance sur l’attirance physique

4) Nuit gitane (historique/Régence) 8/10
Points positifs: Les clichés qui fonctionnent – une héroïne et un héros aux caractères bien trempés – un peu d’exotisme – la scène hot
Points négatifs: Beaucoup de clichés – l’arrogance de l’héroïne au début – le peu de cas que fait l’héroïne de sa virginité – une écriture peu soignée

5) La récompense (historique/époque Henri II Plantagenêt) 9/10
Points positifs: La “domestication” du héros guerrier – le processus original de séduction – l’humour des situations – une scène hot sans contact physique (!)
Points négatifs: Le ton très moderne, voire familier

6) Une fiancée pour Lord Wolserstone (historique/Régence) 7/10
Points positifs: L’infirmité du héros – les complexes initiaux de l’héroïne et du héros – l’idée du marché comme preuve de confiance
Points négatifs: Les revirements de bord peu compréhensibles du héros – la rapidité des sentiments des héros

7)  La lettre perdue (contemporain/entre-deux-guerres) 6/10
Points positifs: Le parallèle entre deux amours, deux époques – le style élégant – le ton d’époque
Points négatifs: La perfection du couple principal et de leurs relations – le parallèle pas exploité jusqu’à la fin

8 ) Les promesses de demain (contemporain) 2/10
Points positifs: Les retrouvailles dans un cimetière – le poids du passé
Points négatifs: L’écriture peu claire et peu soignée – une héroïne difficilement rachetable – l’histoire d’amour assez immature et déprimante

9) L’inconnu des bois (historique/médiéval) 5/10
Points positifs: Le point de vue du héros – le style évocateur – l’ambiance mystérieuse
Points négatifs: Le dénouement plat et invraisemblable

10) Un diable en décembre (contemporain) 6/10
Points positifs: Les répliques entre l’héroïne et le héros – l’ambiance surréelle – la progression de leur amitié et de leurs sentiments
Points négatifs: La goujaterie initiale du héros – le dénouement du malentendu un peu trop facile

11) La curiosité est un vilain défaut (historique/Renaissance) 8/10
Points positifs: Le cadre exotique – l’intrigue basée sur l’erreur d’identité – l’héroïne téméraire – l’intervention avec (cape et) épée du cousin dans la ruelle
Points négatifs: La facilité avec laquelle la vierge héroïne dit “oui” à un inconnu pressé – le revirement brusque du héros quant au mariage

12) Nouveau départ (contemporain) 6/10
Points positifs: Le style agréable et précis – le développement des sentiments de l’héroïne
Points négatifs: Le deus ex machina de l’accident qui permet le retour du héros – un héros difficilement pardonnable – l’effacement du personnage du fils – la conclusion trop rapide

13) Entends ma prière (historique/guerre des Boers) 8/10
Points positifs: La complexité de l’intrigue – l’arrière-plan historique – des héros aux intentions positives – le style soigné
Points négatifs: L’impression de condensé du début – les tensions initiales du couple peu développées – la réconciliation un peu lisse

Bilan: C’est le festival des historiques cette année! Ce qui n’est pas en soi pour me déplaire, mais je crois que j’aurais bien aimé quelques paranormaux, fantastiques et autres sciences-fictions dans le lot. Et aussi plus de second degré, peut-être des time travels, des Écossais, moins de cadres anglais et américains, des policiers… Hé, c’est un genre très vaste et riche, la romance! ;)


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