My To-Be-Read pile
Was reading Katie Ganshert’s blog, and she was asking about what our to-be-read (TBR) piles are, and what that says about us.
And I just had a good look at my TBR pile in Goodreads, and I’m hoping it just says, “Look! She wants to write romance novels! That’s why she’s bought all this stuff!”
To an extent, books do send a message about who I am. And at this stage, my list is saying, “I’m curious about how to write simple romances, and epic ones. Which is why they’re all women’s fiction”. I hope it doesn’t say, “Gee, she’s vacuous.”
And there are other books waiting in the wings that have not made the immediate list above. The Shack is one of them. Men In White is another. I also bought Pagan Christianity on Saturday – a book I’ve been eyeing for ages. And then there’s Anne of the Island that I want to re-read, and Mansfield Park waiting in the wings. But at this stage, I’m researching and trying to teach myself the story-telling process as fast as possible.
Why I want to write romance
Someone from my romance writing group just got approached to put together an article about our group for a writers’ mag, which resulted in a huge discussion about the stereotypes that romance writers are subjected to.
I guess it shouldn’t surprise me that romance writers are often looked upon by other novelists as the bimbos of authordom. Those who scoff – men AND women – are often guilty of oversimplifying the genre, imagining bodice-ripping models on paperback pink jacket covers.
Men in too-tight leather trousers nuzzling against a pair of heaving creamy breasts, heads thrown back in simultaneous throes of ecstasy.
And insipid inspired book titles like “Love’s Unending Embrace”, “The Rogue who loved me”, and “Doctor Carl wants my baby”. (I made these up. Any resemblance to real book titles are purely coincidentally. I’m not laughing at YOUR book per se. Seriously.)
Don’t get me wrong. The bodice-ripping exists. And yes, some of it’s really soft porn for women, designed to titillate and provide the reader a means of escape. Are they meant to be taken very seriously? I expect not. Are they meant to entertain? Absolutely. Do they educate? Perhaps. Men, pay attention. Pinning a (consenting) woman against the wall in an oh-so-masterful way and licking her senseless isn’t exactly bad advice.
But all that ain’t all there is to romance. Just as whodunits aren’t all about Sherlock Holmes and plaid coats with padded elbows. Just as biographies aren’t all about dead people that the near-dead people enjoy reading about. Just as historical fiction isn’t all about some war.
And just as all the world’s stories can be distilled into any of the 36 types of plots, so is any type of book – irrespective of genre – at risk of turning formulaic and predictable. Romance just happens to be a huge genre, spanning all kinds of sub-genres and even engulfing them. Romance, sex, love, lust… basically, we’re talking about fundamental human experiences so it’s no wonder that they’re arguably the biggest genre around.
As for me, I’ve submitted a summary of how I interpret Romance, and why I choose to write one.
Love is an emotion most universal, and romance is one of its sweetest and most idealistic languages. Romance transcends the sexual, governs the blood, and overrules the cerebral. I want to write romance because it speaks, arguably, the loudest to the most number of people. It’s also a means for me to escape and to remember, to pay tribute and perhaps to right the wrongs.
Most of all, I write romance because it’s a bloody lot of fun.
A case of information overshare
Had a chat with a very pretty, very sweet young lady colleague yesterday, and the conversation turned towards writing as a hobby.
Colleague: Oh yeah… I’ve always wanted to write, too.
Me: Yeah? What kind of books.
Colleague: Porn. I’ve always wanted to write a porn novel.
Me: …
Colleague: Seriously. Like, you know those books they have in porn shops?
Me: Not exactly… Erm… is it like erotica?
Colleague: A little like that, except, you know…
Me: Less plot?
Colleague: No…
Me: More graphic?
Colleague: I was going to say “more spanking and stuff”. You know, throw in a pink bottom here and there. But I’m not into that sort of thing. The spanking.
Me: Good to know.
P.S.: Lost some work today because I didn’t realise one of my programmes doesn’t autosave. How aggravating.
