What I Read, Who I Read, How I Read

I'm picky about romance novels--but also predictable.

As I've binge-read romance novels, I've noticed certain patterns in my reading. I don't have any strict rules about what I read,** per se. But I have noticed that I am more likely to be drawn to, engaged by, and finish romance novels, not to mention emerge satisfied, if they meet certain criteria. Some of these criteria are not easy to pin down. For example, they have to be "smart." Now, what do I mean by "smart"? I haven't a clue. Not self-consciously smart. Not necessarily anything that pushes boundaries. And not really something that makes a point of challenging the norms of the times in which they were written--or at least, not in a way that is implausible. But written in a way that respects my intelligence as a reader, and written by an author who is deliberate about the craft of writing and researching (without making it sound like a research paper with smooching, because research can go too far). I have looked at lists of "smart" romance novels, and picked and chosen from among those. Not all--and not all that were recommended by writers whom I do like--appeal to me. We all have different ideas of what is "smart," I think.

Other than "smart," I have managed to pin down a few criteria....

It must be historical.

My introduction to serious romance reading was certainly Diana Gabaldon's Outlander, followed closely by The Parasol Protectorate by Gail Carriger. Neither is "pure" Romance, but rather, does indeed push genre boundaries in a few directions. But both are rooted in specific periods in history, even though Outlander moves through them and The Parasol Protectorate changes the technology and adds the supernatural (among other things). They are both set in a time that is not the 20th (except briefly) or the 21st centuries. I have a couple of times tried "contemporary romance." It just doesn't work for me. I'd just as soon watch a sappy movie--except that I don't. So...

I'm not too much of a purist when it comes to historical detail, except that nothing can feel really wrong. The dialogue doesn't have to be absolutely accurate, but contemporary--obviously contemporary--phrases are very off-putting.

On the other hand, too much focus on the historical detail can be annoying, as it can just take me right out of the story--a reminder, for example, that this is actually a pre-French Revolution setting (please don't mention powdered wigs one more time) rather than the usual Regency. (The use of "Prinny" gets really old, by that token.) I would like to see one Regency era novel written without use of the word "ton." I dare you.

So... historical but not too obvious about it. And absolute accuracy isn't too important except when it is. I can suspend disbelief, but not too much. It may begin to seem like a wonder that I ever find a novel to satisfy! (And yet, Gabaldon manages seemingly effortlessly. But she's not turning out a novel a year. Of course, her novels are about the length of six romance novels...)

It's likely set in the British Isles.

While it's not a requirement the way that "historical" seems to be, I can't say that I've read--and liked--a romance novel that wasn't set in England, Scotland, Ireland, or Wales. By which I really mean England or Wales.

Okay, that's not strictly true. I have read a few that were set in America. But mostly because they were written by authors whose historical romance novels (set in the British Isles) I had already read. The Cowboy Wore a Kilt had more than three strikes against it: cowboys, the overt reference to kilts, and set in contemporary America, but I bought it anyway (probably for $0.99 or so) because it was written by Grace Burrowes. (I did not enjoy it.) 

Did I say I didn't go looking for diversity? This is not technically true. I read Beverly Jenkins in my search for interesting perspectives, but for one reason or another, I did not enjoy the novel. Maybe the American historical setting.

Cheeseball titles are okay--to a point.

I have this goal: in addition to writing a very specific, very explicit "choose your own romance" novel, I would like to write some atypical historical romances in the absolute wrong time period/setting. The titles would be along these lines:

• Neandertal Nuptuals
• Bagged by a Barbarian
• Love Among the Horde
• Sacked in Siberia

Or maybe not. The point is, playful titles are one thing. But the formulas--oh! the formulas. Romance is the only genre in which I will routinely read a novel in spite of its title. We're not touching cover art. I would not be a romance reader if I didn't read on my Kindle, mainly because of the cover art. So I roll my eyes and click "buy" to download another title with "Duke" or "Duchess" in the title. I suspect that some of my earliest forays into romance reading were influenced by titles that sounded, how shall I say? more worthy of being taken seriously. 

Romancing Mister Bridgerton was my foray into the Bridgertons and my introduction to Julia Quinn. This book is a huge spoiler to the whole series, but that didn't keep me from going back and reading the earlier ones. I liked the implied inversion--that the male love interest was the one being "romanced" in this period romance novel. I like a lot of Julia Quinn's titles, including To Sir Phillip, with Love, What Happens in London, Ten Things I Love about You, The Secret Diaries of Miss Miranda Cheever... They are all riffs on titles or sayings, but they feel clever without being repetitive and over-the-top.

The Heir was innocuous enough, but combined very well with The Soldier and The Virtuoso, the trio of (very hot) novels that started Grace Burrowes's Windham Series. The Windham daughters' titles were a little more outrageous.

Slightly Married got me into the Bedwyn Saga by Mary Balogh. I don't remember if I read that or the Survivor's Club novels first (my Amazon record tells me it was the Survivor's Club), but I prefer the latter, and was probably attracted to the series title rather than the title of one or another novel. 

It took me quite a while to work up to reading Born to be Wilde. I still can't believe I broke down and read Too Scot to Handle. I like puns, but there are limits, even for me. I enjoyed both of these, by the way. So a good lesson: you can't judge a book by its cover or its title. Except that the covers do rather define the genre, don't they?

It can't be "sweet."

I don't know who came up with this term, but I found out after reading a novel described in the reviews as "sweet" that it means there is no explicit sex. I'm not sure if this means that there can be sex implied "off stage," as it were, or if it doesn't occur at all during the action of the novel. In the case of the novel I read, it was absent. While I do understand that not everyone wants to read explicit depictions of sex, and I can sincerely appreciate and respect that preference, in a genre that is largely motivated by sex, it feels a bit lacking when there is not a bedroom (or wherever) scene. It feels unconsummated. That is my official reason for preferring the racier examples of the genre. In reality, however, I like the visceral response. And I like the visceral response in particular as indicative of how well the author has created the chemistry between the lovers. If it falls flat (heh), well, that's usually because of the description of the act or the lack of build up--the literary foreplay. The best moments aren't even the most erotic--they're the most "real." I was surprised recently by the depiction of an unexpected kiss in the rain. It felt real.

It should affirm marriage.

Okay, it doesn't have to affirm marriage, but I will be very disappointed if it doesn't, mainly because that is one of the interesting things about romance novels--how they frame the institution of marriage: what ideas about marriage--how a couple gets to that point, what a marriage should ideally look like. In addition, I would say that it should affirm family, and it should affirm life--broadly speaking.

It might seem like this means that they have to be heterosexual. This isn't strictly true, although I'm not "into" homoerotic fiction the way I once was. I guess I'm too married or too Catholic? It also feels a little disingenuous to find a sexy thrill in someone else's sexuality (like eroticizing the 'Other'). However, it doesn't always "feel" very genuine. Some writers who are very adept at writing heterosexual love scenes and relationships don't come across quite as genuine with same-sex couples, or the very fact of being progressive and inclusive and writing that same-sex couple or love scene takes precedent over believability of the scene. I don't love, for example, Gail Carriger's novella "Romancing the Inventor," although I love the character of Mme. Lefoux, and it's supposed to be, at least in part, her story. So while I am biased more in favor of heterosexual relationships, it's not because I eschew same-sex/queer romance. I just don't seek them out, necessarily, though I don't avoid them on principle. 

In all romance novels, there is some decision-making about the relationship dynamic, and I would argue that an ideal is offered to the reader--sometimes different dynamics that are each models in themselves, sometimes different manifestations of the same ideal. Very rarely, there is a solid relationship that is obviously flawed. But more often, I think, if the reader perceives a flaw in the relationship, the author has not quite succeeded. That's a working hypothesis, and something that I believe defines the genre.

It may have one or more "damaged" characters.

This is not essential, but as it increases the complexity of not only the characters, but the theme, this is something I've come to prefer. Mary Balogh is the novelist I've read who seems to do this best, and her Survivors' Club series is the best. Grace Burrowes also has some shining examples of the hero who is damaged, usually but not always psychologically, generally by war. I would like to see, perhaps, a "damaged" hero who is damaged by something other than war. 

I expect to develop this entire idea a bit more, but while the men are typically damaged by war, the women are damaged by society, by their families, or by men. They generally have some serious self-doubt to overcome, and not simply about being too chubby or not looking good in yellow. This is where the Bridgertons often fall short for me. The Bridgertons are too perfect, and even when they're not, they still sort of are. One common theme is the woman who doesn't think she's supposed to enjoy sex, and is mortified by her sinful nature when she finds out that she does. Craves it, even. This is an interesting trope, and like any trope, can be done better or less well, depending. On the surface, these deep flaws or psychological distress (depending) can simply be the "barrier to the marriage"--the "problem" that requires resolution. But there is not always an easy resolution--and in fact, when the problem is resolved away, we are probably dealing with a less sophisticated novel. Themes of class, gender, imperialism, and the horrors of war surface, giving these novels some depth that the "rush to the HEA" (that's Happily Ever After") variety don't necessarily have.

Sometimes, of course, you just have a fun romp. 

So who do I read?

If you missed it, above, the romance novelists whose ouvre I know rather well (without being a fangirl) are

• Julia Quinn
• Mary Balogh, and
• Grace Burrowes

I have just ventured into Eloisa James, and I'm simply not sure yet if she fits with these three.

The genre fiction writers whose works are adjacent to romance and whose novels I know rather well:

• Diana Gabaldon
• Gail Carriger

The romance novelists in whose works I have dabbled (as in, I had to look up their names in my Kindle archive) are

• Beverly Jenkins
• Loretta Chase
• Tessa Dare
• Laura Lee Guhrke, and
• Lisa Kleypas

In addition, I have read Marian Zimmer Bradley's The Mists of Avalon too many times in my life, and at a different end of the spectrum, I have read more than one Georgette Heyer, whose works might be understood to be excluded from my dislike of "sweet" romances. But then, she invented Regency romance, and wrote it well (eve if the relationships get a little problematic sometimes...). I have also read the Paper Magician series by Charlie N. Holmberg, which seems to deserve mention, as it is essential genre fiction "sweet" romance.

I've read some others that simply aren't worth mentioning.

**I limit myself in one important way...

I don't indulge in erotica. I am drawn to it, but I know what is unhealthy for me, so I stay away. 

So my rule is this: Sex within healthily functioning relationship contexts, even if they stray beyond the theological boundaries of my Catholic faith. 

Erotica, by its very nature, subverts social norms in a way that is much more transgressive than any particular sexual acts within the kinds of relationship contexts (heteronormative or not) that I have outlined above. 

It's important to know your limits.

The last question is how I read.

It might be easiest to say that that will unfold throughout the blog. I read what engages me. I have not actually found that I analyze romance as I go, though usually I analyze just as a matter of course. In another life I have been a literary critic, and I still am at the very core of my being. But for romance, I seem to need bulk in order to find something to analyze. This is not unique; I also don't seem to analyze Terry Pratchett's works as I go, and I have read many of those--and return to them periodically.

I go through phases. I will leave aside the romance novels for a while, and then read all of a new series or reread an old one. I love to reread, but I have found only select romance novels that I want to reread. Some of those, I can only reread to a point.

I read for character, mostly. If themes are bound up with character, so much the better.

And now if you've made it this far, you know all about what I read, who I read, and how I read. Have I left anything out? Ah well. It can wait until next time.