And They Lived Horribly Ever After

A Guest Post by Coral Moore

You probably don’t know me. My name is Coral and I’m a speculative fiction writer. At first glance, my fantastical fiction and Anne Holly’s contemporary romance don’t seem to have much in common. You might even wonder what I’m doing here, on a very romance-y blog. The answer is pretty simple—I love romantic storylines. I do have a couple of problems with the way romance is expected to be these days, though. I don’t subscribe to the theory that a story has to fit into a mold to be fulfilling, which is why I’ve hesitated to label my books that way. After a few late-night conversations with Anne regarding the formulaic nature of much of today’s commercial fiction, I know it’s a matter she has some interest in as well, so I decided to write a little something about romances that don’t follow the “type” and why they are still worthwhile.

I’m going to back way up for a moment and start with a classic, just to offer a bit of foundation for my claim. Romeo and Juliet is not a romance by today’s standards. Though the plot is driven by the central relationship, there is no happy ending. I would argue that since the budding relationship reaches a logical conclusion—even though the resolution is a tragic one—the story should still be considered a romance. The play is entirely about their love and how it shapes the world around them. It’s a love story, in the purest sense, yet it would never be labeled a romance now.

Why is the romance genre the only one so handicapped by the reliance on happy endings? If a science fiction story has a tragic ending, no one suggests that it belongs in a different genre. No one would have told Bradbury, “We only allow happy endings on alien planets here, move along now,” and thank goodness because the darkness of his stories is part of what makes them so good. Don’t get me wrong, I love a happy ending. I just don’t think it should be required for the genre because knowing how the story is going to end diffuses some of the tension for me. The most poignant love stories teeter at the edge of loss, and without the chance that things won’t work out, that potential for tragedy is gone.

My favorite stories are the darkest ones. I’ve always preferred them, probably because so much of my early reading was horror. If I can’t believe something terrible might happen as a result of the conflict, there isn’t much point to reading the story in my opinion. Let’s use Harry Potter as an example (Spoiler Alert: Though I can’t imagine there’s anyone who doesn’t know the basic plot of the stories out there). Until more than halfway through the series there really isn’t much fear about the consequences. Though the situation is purported to be dire, there’s no immediate sense that something awful could happen. Our heroes will just keep beating the bad guys, skipping along merrily at the end. Cedric’s death changes everything. Once we know that someone important could die as a result of what’s going on, the tone of the stories turns more urgent.

Though my stories are heavily romantic, I don’t like to label them as romances because I want there to be doubt and darkness at the base of them. When my heroine walks away from the hero, I want you to believe she might not come back. When the hero tells the heroine that she should leave or something awful might happen, I want you to believe the terrible is possible. That just can’t happen while writing under the strictures of modern-day romance, so what’s an author to do?

My newest release is Elements of Rebellion. I’ve waffled back and forth on how to label this story, basically since I finished writing it. I settled on Dark Fantasy Romance, but I’m still not sure if that’s truly where it belongs. Part of me still clings to the idea that the tension is somehow less if the reader goes into it knowing there is a happy ending.I’m sure there are dissenting opinions on this subject, and I welcome your attempts to convince me that every romance should end happily in the comments. If you’d like to have a more prolonged discussion, I invite you to come find me on Twitter, Goodreads or my blog. I might even give you a copy of my not-romance for your trouble.

~*~

Elements of Rebellion

Coral Moore

After spending most of her life an unwilling captive in a brothel, Sindari is sold to Lord Devin, a man with a reputation for unspeakable cruelty. In the arms of this man who must pretend he cares nothing for her, Sindari finds compassion, making the journey through her barren homeland all the more perilous. Along the way she discovers she can channel elemental forces that compliment Devin’s ability to manipulate fire.

Harnessing this power, she battles the Dominion, an unrelenting foe that has broken the spirit of the Eldari people through twenty years of savagery. Trapped by the brutal empire that has enslaved millions, Sindari and Devin fight against hopeless odds.

Genre: Fantasy
Length: 85,000
Warnings: Graphic Violence and Sexual Situations
Written for NaNoWriMo 2010.

HEA Forever?

Ah, the HEA - "happily ever after." According to the Romance Writers of America, this is a cornerstone of romance. They define a romance novel by its:

"...emotionally satisfying and optimistic ending."

When most people, including myself, refer to "romance novel," this is part of the idea. No matter what happens, you know there will be an HEA at the end. There's a certain R&R aspect to knowing how a book will end, and that it will end happily. This is part of why romances are such a good pastime for busy people. One can settle into it like a warm bath, and embrace the familiarity of it all.

But where, then, do we place non-HEA romance? Is there such a thing? I believe there is. I've read a number of books that I consider romances, yet which don't end happily. Romeo and Juliet, anyone? How many lovers has Nicholas Sparks killed off? Yes, I believe they exist. I know they do. Granted, people who want HEA might not like these romances as much, but I don't think that negates them as romances; they're just a different sort. In film studies, they are often called "melodramas," to distinguish them from "romantic comedies." "Romantic lit," maybe, instead of "genre romance", for our purposes?

Needless to say, I have nothing against HEA, and certainly nothing against traditional romance novels, as anyone who's familiar with this blog knows. Heck, all my books so far have been HEA or at least Happy For Now. (Oh no! Did I just **SPOILER** my entire opus there?)

However, I'm now working on a few projects where I don't know if they will end happily, especially in terms of any relationships therein. I can't guarantee the required HEA with those books, so I've already come to terms with the fact that I will be publishing them as non-romances, even though some of them have romantic aspects or even love stories. Romantic elements, yes. But the HEAs are iffy at best, if HEA allows only for coupling, and not for character development and triumph over adversity. (I.e., if "getting your man" is the only form of happy ending, it's not likely going to happen here.)

Will readers feel ripped off if they perceive me as a "romance writer," and I don't deliver? This is a worry I have, but I'm moving past it. I've decided not to split myself off into a new pen name for these books. I might shift/update some of my "image", but I will be keeping this name for these works. They will still be My Books, and they feel as much a part of me as my romances. I'm disinclined to exile them. Nor can I just shelve everything non-romance, because that wouldn't be satisfying for me.

It's time to test run the whole "brand the writer, not the books" theory of author marketing, I guess. I believe readers are savvy enough to handle this, and I'm okay if my "romance purity" cred slips because of these expansions.

This month, however, my distance from "romance" seems to have grown, somewhat against my will.

The HEA issue has been brought to the forefront in recent weeks due to some new rulings by RWA. As far as I know, RWA has long held that the HEA is definitive of romance as a genre. However, it did have an awards category for works containing a "strong romantic element," which basically means they aren't "traditional romances," but do have enough romance in them to be applicable to their awards and their common readership. Recently, RWA announced that this category would be gone as of 2014. Then, according to reports, they took the further move to clarify that those writers who do not write what they consider to be "real romance" (including HEA) are only eligible for associate membership, at most, leaving them either paying for membership without voting rights, or, well, leaving altogether.

In short, if you don't write romance-focused fiction, with a HEA romance between main characters as your "A Plot", you are not a romance writer, and are therefore ineligible. Oh well, it's their org, and their rules, so it's fair enough.

All it is means to me is that I guess I will never be a member of RWA now.

There have been several reasons why I've been reluctant to part with the money it takes to join RWA, so this is just the "case closed" seal. Other issues I've had included the absence of a convenient local chapter (one of the main things many RWA members love about membership), their stance on ebooks (though I gather that's changing) and non-advance paying publishers, and on erotica, and their often problematic views on LGTBQ fiction (I don't write LGTBQ fiction at present, but I stand with them on issues of equity). The likelihood I would ever attend their annual national shindig is basically nil, as well. It's always seemed to me that it's really an organization for traditional publishing, with agents and advances, and regular category romance through Big Publishers. There's nothing wrong with that, if that's what you want and where you are heading, but it's not me or my career, and I get plenty of contact with other writers through different means, particularly social media and forums. Why pay steadily increasing dues if I'm not sure it's right for me?

Honestly, I simply resist paying and joining groups unless I feel an affinity with them, and I've not felt affinity with RWA. Now the HEA thing just makes that possibility even more remote. I'm not heartbroken, though RWA was one of those benchmarks I held in mind when I first pictured myself as a romance writer. I've just come to face reality and change, that's all.

So, long story short - with my previous books, you will get an HEA (or HFN, "happily for now"), and I love that. With some of my future books, you might still get an HEA/HFN, when I return to romances. In the meantime, there will be some books that trip out of the genre, and might not be HEA or even HFN.

What was Marge Simpson's line? "It's an ending. That's enough."

And I'm okay with that. I hope you will be, too.

This is not "Goodbye to Romance." It's just a big Hello to other things, as well. But, I do believe it is goodbye to RWA, which I never really said hello to to begin with.

Review: An Engagement in Seattle by Debbie Macomber

I've decided to experiment with the "Blog this Review" feature from GoodReads, so pardon me while I toy with it. If I like it, I might start doing this with my longer, positive (3 or 4 stars and up) romance-related reviews... 
 
An Engagement in Seattle by Debbie Macomber
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

This book has two novellas in it, both published in the 1990s (with updating). "Groom Wanted" features an ambitious business woman managing the family's corporation, who enters into a "green card marriage" with the plant's star researcher so he won't be deported. "Bride Wanted" features an Alaskan good guy who comes to Washington to seek a wife, and finds a jilted teacher eager for a new start. I'm a big fan of Debbie Macomber, and these stories did not disappoint.

I loved them both as light, quick reads, but Bride Wanted worked a little better for me.

Groom Wanted was surprisingly touching (I confess it made me cry at a point or two); yes, it had a bit of cheese, but in a nice way. With another author some of the hero's "this will be a real marriage, so you will sleep with me" pressure could have gone very, very wrong (i.e. forced seduction or marital rape), but Macomber definitely didn't go there - thankfully! The premise is not really unique (immigration marriage), but not a sickeningly-common one in romance novels. Also, it's rather refreshing to see a (1) Russian hero and (2) a scientist who does actual work. The secondary characters were fairly well done, as well, considering this is a short.

Bride Wanted, my favourite of the two, was lighter and a bit more fun. I enjoyed the secondary characters, and the Alaskan angle. Also, the "small town knight in shining armour seeking companion", while not new, is adorable to me. I'm a sucker for small town heroes. The heroine was very likeable. I would have done the ending slightly differently, but overall it was a very fun read.

In terms of negatives, I have very little. The books, in my opinion, did what they were supposed to, and delivered some nice, romantic entertainment. However, I am finding myself increasingly frustrated by fade-to-black love scenes. I don't know - they worked well for me for decades, but now that more and more romance novels "go all the way," the FTB ones seem somehow anti-climactic (sorta-pun not really intended). The stories were so engaging, the characters so attractive, and the chemistry so vivid, I did find myself put out when the text went to "..." and suddenly it was the next day. Sigh. However, if you normally have no trouble with FTB (or you prefer them), this won't be a problem for you.

Very nice pair of stories from what I like to think of as "old school contemporary romance," the kind of which seem to be rather rare these days, sadly. Recommended!

View all my reviews

(Please note: I very rarely accept review requests. I buy and read the books I want, or I borrow them. I don't have the time to commit to reviewing, though heaven bless those bloggers who do!)

What's your Romantic Style?

Still celebrating my new release! Thanks for stopping by.

Textbook Romance is the story of Libby, a university professor who is decidedly anti-romance. Her mother, who became pregnant as a teen by the "love of her life", who promptly ditched her, has never given up on the foolish notion of The One, a quest that disrupted Libby's life constantly as a child.

And, to her undying shame, something very similar happened to Libby herself. The "love of her life" turned out to be just the "lust of her (and a dozen other women's) life", and she can't believe she fell for it. But only once. Now, Libby has learned her lesson, for life. Or so she tells herself.

Libby's life goal is to avoid romance. She can't stand the way people repeatedly lose sight of what's "important" for the sake of love, which she believes to be a sham. And Libby should know - not only is her academic work all about researching the roots of romance, but she secretly writes romance novels on the sly!

Enter Seth, an ex-cop with a teen daughter. Seth has a mom who taught him how Real Love is supposed to work. Widowed at a young age, his mother never stopped loving her husband and instilling in her kids the belief that real love takes effort, courage and dedication. Even after his wife left him for an internet crush, Seth still believes Real Love is waiting for everyone, as long as you have the fortitude to grad a hold of it.

Textbook Romance is about the kinds of romantic options open to us. Seth, and his mother, and their devotional approach to marriage. Seth's ex, who treats internet chat rooms like a man-market. Libby's ex whose life goal is to spread the love around as much as possible before he's put out to pasture. Libby's mom, with stars in her eyes, who never seems to find anyone but "Leavers." And Libby, who has seen so many Leavers, she forgot there are "Stayers," too.

I had a great deal of fun writing a romance novel that explores... well... romance. There are multiple "styles" of love going on in this book, with each character thinking their way is the right way, given the influences and life experiences they have behind them. It's amazing how our parents, friends, lovers, ex-lovers, kids, and so forth, mold our lives, and our approach to love.

I guess it's too personal to ask your style of love, but would you care to share your views on love, whether or not you think True Love even exists, or who influenced you as to what to do (or what not to do) in the Quest for True Love?

All weekend long, comments on these blog posts will enter you to win an ebook copy of my new contemporary romance novel, Textbook Romance, courtesy of Pink Petal Books. (18+ only, please!) Contest ends Monday, June 25, 2012, at 12pm EST.

In Praise of “Wounded Hero” Romance

A Guest Post by Ruth Madison, author of (W)hole.

Why do we read romance novels? It’s a huge market and yet not many people admit to reading them. They are a guilty pleasure. I think because we’re afraid people will think we’re dumb or naive for enjoying the unrealistic and overly romantic notions of love in these books. Yet even the most grounded of us seem to get something deeply satisfying from sappy stories of true love and people finding the perfect partner for them.

These books are pure fantasy. They are what we wish love would be and I know I’m always embarrassed to be caught reading them, fearing that people will think I’m “simple” enough to believe that this is how love works.

Yet reading about people falling in love and being happy satisfies a very deep part of our psyches. Some of the joy of the experience is reading about men that we would find powerfully attractive in real life. We can imagine ourselves as the heroine in the story and can feel that love we want when we see the characters getting closer.

There are legions of different romance genre niches because there are so many different kinds of men that we all find attractive. There are some things that are so nearly universal that we don’t think about it. Historical romances with their gentlemanly, charming, aloof heroes. Western romances with their tough cowboys who are hiding vulnerable hearts. Contemporary romances with their slick business men. These archetypes call to something inside of us and being connected to the heroine who tames these men feels great.

Some of us have unusual attractions, though. What happens when your ideal man, the one that you want to read about finding love, is not physically appealing to the majority of women? We might get dismissed and looked down upon as deviants or fetishists when we enjoy wounded hero romance.

People will get very defensive if caught reading books with heroes who have physical disabilities. They will justify it in all sorts of ways, always making sure to claim that it is not a fetish thing. Well, for me it is. I know why I like these so-called “imperfect” heroes (who, in my opinion are absolutely perfect). They are the men of my fantasies. I will proudly say that I read and I write romances about men who are physically disabled.

Is it because I have the desire to have power over men? Is it because I’m afraid of men and want to dominate and control them? No. There are other romance genres for that. I’m interested in strong men who are dealing with the unique challenges of disability. They have to examine and think about how they define themselves as men, since the world wants to desexualize them and tell them that they are less manly because of their impairments. I enjoy seeing men fight back against that stereotype.

Not all people who enjoy these books are like me. Some may also enjoy these romances just to see a different kind of hero. The term “imperfect” hero came about, I believe, because some people were tired of reading about men who were completely and utterly perfect in every way with no vulnerability, no flaws, no humanity. The muscled guy who went to Harvard and was on the rowing team and now makes billions of dollars and still has perfect abs is not my kind of hero.

However, there are sensitive issues that writing about people who have disabilities brings up and how can I, as an author, stay sensitive to them? Am I just stereotyping them in a different way? Am I using someone’s real life struggles for my own pleasure? Is making the people I am attracted to into romance heroes a disservice to them?

No one seems to worry about the feelings of the men stereotyped in other genre romances. We read books with naked male torsos on the cover where you can’t even see the faces of these men. No one says that we’re being insensitive to these men. What makes disability different?

Part of it is that with disability there is the sense that these people need protecting. They need to be saved from being the fantasy of people like me. This is a way that non-disabled people infantilize adults who have disabilities. But there’s also a very real reason wounded hero romance is different.

In real life the traditionally attractive guy doesn’t have negative experiences connected with that. He is pretty much on top of the world. Disability brings a lot of other social issues with it connected to being a marginalized group.

The important thing, to me, is that the authors who write wounded hero romance books must be well versed in disability issues and civil rights. They must study and research and know the dangers of how people with disabilities are often portrayed badly by non-disabled writers. As an author of wounded hero romance, I have a responsibility to portray the disabled characters in ways that will not harm the overall fight for equal rights that people who have physical disabilities are currently fighting in real life.

So, I say, let’s enjoy our fantasies and never be ashamed of what kind of guys we find appealing, but also remember that the men we dream about have real lives and deserve our respect both in life and on the page.

Please visit Ruth at her website.

University Romance

Most of us in the romance world, readers and writers, are used to the contemporary subgenre "Small Town Romance." Other specific tropes include, "Military Romance," "Alphamale Romance," "Secret Baby," "Urban Romance," "Western Romance," etc. These are sort of categories within the subgenre of contemporary romance. These little labels or handles act as little clues to savvy readers as to what they might expect from the story - certain character types, plots or settings, for example, or a particular "feeling" to the book.

Small Town Romances, for instance, will likely be contemporary romances set in a small town, involving regular people with jobs and normal lives, often with kids and money troubles (vastly different from categories like "Billionaire Mistress" romances). The pace is often slower, cozier, with some sensuality and a lot of heart.

The novel I completed for NaNoWri 2010, currently entitled Textbook Romance, could qualify as a "Small Town Romance," since it technically takes place in a small town in Ohio. But that doesn't really describe it. It's more of what I am now thinking of "University Romance." (I would call it "Campus Romance," but that seems to imply YA or naughty co-eds in my mind.)

In Textbook Romance, a professor who is up for tenure accidentally falls for one of her mature students, which is not only a professional faux pas, but is made even more awkward for her by the fact that her academic rep has been all about revealing how the downfall of society stems from notions of "romance."

The book is largely defined by its university setting; it takes place within that environment, involves stock characters from that world, and much of the conflict comes from the academic profession. That is not to say it is inaccessible to non-academics, I think. Much of the career-related angst is relate-able to many trades (i.e., getting a promotion, impressing the bosses, holding on to your image), and everything is simplified and/or explained as needed. Being a teacher at a university, myself, I inhabit this world in my real life, so this allows me to translate this to the page without much stress.

However, since this isn't a "big category," as readily recognizable as "Christmas Romance," or "Single Father," I'm concerned how well it will be received by acquisition editors. As the book does its rounds to the publishers, I am crossing my fingers, but I know it might be a bit of a long-shot. Perhaps readers don't want to think about profs getting it on? But, maybe they do.

Could this be my new niche category? Probably not. I can't see it becoming the next big thing, and I'm not sure I'd want to do it over and over. However, it was great to write about "my world," and bring my two intellectual loves (romance and academics) together in the same book. Contrary to popular misconceptions, there are a lot of academic types who enjoy romance.

It's about time that the Ivory Tower gets a little red roses and violin, too, right?

My New Haunt

I just wanted to stop in for a moment and recommend a site that I have been loving recently.

The Romance Reviews: If you haven't gone there before, you should.

As the title suggests, they have plenty of reviews - they also have chat areas, author pages, and oodles of contests. They cover all forms of romance and erotica, both m/f and GLBT, and do indie/small press and mainstream. I highly recommend this site, especially if you have limited net time and are looking for a few romance fan sites that offer a lot with one membership.

As both a writer and a fan of romance, I have enjoyed it a good deal!

You can even visit me there!

"Romantic Literature"???

I was checking the sales links for my new release, which I do daily like a little dirt farmer looking for sprouts - I love seeing the "customers who bought this also bought..." features, and hoping for comments, etc.

Anyway, one little thing is bugging me. On one of my seller sites, my publisher uploaded it with the category "romantic literature" - this, it seems, is a different category than just full-on romance. It's listed as "drama" "contemporary" "romantic literature."

Now, I looked at the other books in the category. While they look good, they all seem quite serious. I wonder if this category might scare people away - do people really want to read 55k of something that sounds so serious? I have never pretended to produce "literature" - just romantic escapism, really.

A part of me wishes to take this as a compliment, as it kind of denotes quality... But if people wanted to read "romantic literature," wouldn't they just hit Jane Austen again?

My book is having an identity crisis - or, maybe, I am.

Comments?