Categories: Random Musings
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by SB Sarah • Sunday, January 21, 2007 at 02:04 PM
A Bitchery reader named Ellen emailed me to say she’d read The Rest Falls Away and had liked it. Her feedback, though, was slightly different from mine, and she owes her perspective, she says, to the fact that she’s a fantasy reader. Her focus was on world building, and the idea that there can easily be more than one hero, or a lack of clarity on who the primary hero is throughout most of the novel, didn’t bother her at all. Seems that’s rather a common feature of fantasy series.
This intrigued me, because I’d never thought about the different perspectives of romance readers and fantasy/sci fi readers, but as the genres bleed into one another more and more of late, it seems like there’s a lot in common between the expectations of each group, and even more that varies.
Before I start blathering on, though, a caveat: I’m using the term “sci fi/fantasy” broadly. Even though I don’t read a great deal of either genre, I do know that the two terms do not describe identical genres, so please understand that I’m not defining inaccurately; I’m trying to be as inclusive when describing a community of readers with similar expectations from their preferred work of fiction. Also, while The Rest Falls Away was the catalyst for my discussion, when I refer to any plot points or elements of plot, characterization or worldbuilding, I’m not referring specifically or obliquely to any perceived flaw in that particular book. I’m speaking generally, making huge, sweeping assumptions with a double-wide trailer-sized brush! Whee!
Hanyway, my email exchange with Ellen and later with Candy caused my interest in the variations in reaction between romance readers and sci fi/fantasy readers, since each group seems to have very different expectations and tolerates variations on themes in disparate ways. While a fantasy/sci fi reader might be totally ok with the potential for multiple - e.g. more than two - heroes, the buffet o’ manly heroic men is something that I’ve personally only started coming across recently. I’ve seen my share of triangles, but there’s more than a few books I’ve read, particularly fantasy or paranormal romances, that feature a manly man smorgasboard. Is this the influence of one into the other? Perhaps. But a mostly-romance reader might feel dicked around by the author if s/he doesn’t have at least an inkling who the hero will be, or a sense of who the heroine likes best. Yet many fantasy series readers—and I’m going to guess that there are more fantasy series than stand alone books, which isn’t as true for fantasy/paranormal romance to the best of my knowledge—are able to handle multiple heroes as part of the development of the series as a whole, and the development of all the characters involved.
To spin it a different way, historical fiction readers, according to one dude I heard speak at that tea I went to last October, expect a fictional story told in a meticulously researched setting, so that all the peripheral details are 110% factually accurate, but the story itself is not - but COULD be true since everything else is. Fantasy readers seem to expect from authors a meticulous job of world building and within that world a set of consistent rules governing the fantastical - e.g. repercussions for use/abuse of magical power - while romance readers might be more accepting of world building flaws, but often NOT tolerant of historical inaccuracy or forgiving of character deviations in terms of romantic coupling.
There’s a good bit in common between each genre but the readers have such different expectations that it’s fascinating to me: how do fantasy readers react to paranormal and fantasy romance novels, both series and stand-alone issues? How do romance readers react to fantasy and sci-fi? I know many of the readers here enjoy heaping piles of both genres, so I have to ask: do your expectations and evaluative standards change when you enter one genre versus another? Do you examine each genre from a different perspective when you read? Obviously, we’re all looking for quality storytelling without flaws like flimsy motivations or obvious deux ex machina endings, but once you’ve started reading a solid story from either genre, do you look for different things? What are the differences, if any, in your expectations?
A very interesting question, Sarah! I’m relatively new to the romance genre, so I have much more experience reading SF/Fantasy, although I have read a couple of fantasy-romance hybrids.
I like your mention that Fantasy readers often are okay with the possibility of more than one hero, because that’s one of the things I enjoy most about Gail Dayton’s books The Compass Rose and The Barbed Rose: that the social structure of Adara practically requires that Kallista not be paired off with a single hero, but be able to work with (and love) a whole panorama of good, hot dudes. That’s very refreshing to me.
I will admit, sometimes the generic structure of romance (i.e., the HEA) feels a little confining to me; when I know from reading the back cover exactly who the heroine is going to end up with, unless the prose and characterization are incredible, I lose interest in the story, because I know the ending. With a fantasy novel, the ending may be unpredictable, so I can go along with slightly clunky exposition or ungraceful dialogue much more easily. Often I will alternate between romance and fantasy novels rather than read a whole bunch of one genre, for just this reason.
(Of course, I might also take a detour into mysteries or non-fiction or literary fiction or chicklit or.... Well, you get the picture.)
A writer in my crit group joined up because, although she writes fantasy, she enjoys historical novels (literary & fantasy) and liked the advice the group gave her. As such, her books stand out with fewer romantic elements, “fade to black” sexual interludes (if any), more setting detail, and—in her current WIP—a childhood friend of the heroine who works as the third part of a love triangle. She didn’t seem to think anything of it, but other critiques mentioned “hey, what’s up with that other guy she seems sweet on, too?” That seems to be the biggest difference in plotting and expectation.
I see a lot in common with the creation of both historical and scifi/fantasy settings. The author is responsible for maintaining consistent details and for creating a scene outside of our everyday—not to say that contemporary writers don’t build convincing settings, but their base starting level is already assumed to be like ours.
I agree Salome, the environment/world building has to be convincing. The author is inviting us into an unknown place and we have to be able to identify with it someway or at least be able to “see” the book characters fitting in.
One pet peeve I have about sci fi fantasy novels is that descriptive paragraphs need to have something to do with the story.....if the author spends 14 pages describing the weird flora and fauna and that flora and fauna have nothing to do with the story, they’ve lost me for good.
Sharon Shinn’s Archangel series was excellent as well as Jacqueline Carey’s Kushiels series and P.C. Casts centaur and goddess novels..I highly recommend them all! Wonderful world building
I just finished reading The Rest Falls Away and I deliberately did not read any reviews first (or the interview) because I wanted to come at it with an open eye.
About 1/3 of the way through the book I realized I was reading a fantasy, not a romance, and I wouldn’t even call it a paranormal romance. And that’s fine, I love a good fantasy or sf novel. The reason I didn’t think of it as a romance novel is because it was all about the protagonist and her growth and development, where a romance novel is about two people growing and developing together.
A Sharon Shinn “Samaria” novel falls much more into the paranormal romance slot even though it’s sold as straight fantasy, because there’s a core story about a H&H, and both experience some growth in finding each other and the HEA.
So, I don’t feel cheated when I buy what’s shelved in romance and find it’s a fantasy, or when I buy a fantasy or sf and find it’s romance. To me the only question is, did I like the story and would I buy more by this auhor? And in the Gleason case, the answer is “yes”.
cassie said on...I read both (or the three) genres (and the occasional mystery, as well), and I don’t think my expectations of what I consider a good story changes very much, except that I know there’s going to be a HEA in romance novels. And while I like some sort of HEA, even (or especially) an ambiguous or hopeful one, in most of the books I read, I agree with Chicklet that sometimes the HEA requirement is a bit… unecessary, maybe? Though I know people will disagree with that because the HEA is such a part of the romance genre.
As for world-building, I look at it the same way in any book. Even historicals or contemporaries have to have some sort of world-building, I think, in order to set the story properly. I don’t like huge amounts of exposition or info-dumps, but that goes for non-SF/F books too.
I’m not particularly fond of the multiple partners or wonder who the hero is going to end up with story (arc), for series and stand-alones; I prefer if something else is keeping the tension in the story, but I like watching my heroes work together instead of (or sometimes while) second-guessing each other.
I read Colleen Gleason’s book and I’m having a little trouble getting past the Buffy similarities and what feels like ever so slightly too much exposition, but I think that’s mostly me and not so much the book. And, I don’t really know why, but unlike Darlene, this one feels like a romance novel to me, despite there being vampires and Venators (kinda like JR Ward’s series). It’s not a bad thing, and I’ll probably still pick up the next book in the series (Ward’s, too, now that I’ve gotten past the names); I can’t say I love either series, but I don’t think it has much to do with the genres or subgenres they’re identified as.
I liked Archangel, too, and Bujold’s Vorkosigan series, Robin McKinley’s books, O.R. Melling, Joss Whedon/John Cassaday’s Astonishing X-Men (not a novel, but close enough :)—highly recommend, by the way, though I’m not banking on (too much of) a HEA), Diana Wynne Jones, Kelley Armstrong, Kim Harrison (though I’ve only read the first three of her series, so far)… I think most of those end with a HEA, or as happy as the characters can be after what some of them go through.
Robin said on...I will admit, sometimes the generic structure of romance (i.e., the HEA) feels a little confining to me; when I know from reading the back cover exactly who the heroine is going to end up with, unless the prose and characterization are incredible, I lose interest in the story, because I know the ending.
I’m a late-to-Romance reader myself who also wishes the HEA ending weren’t so entrenched in the genre, because I don’t like what sometimes feels contrived and forced in the last few pages of some Romance novels. And ironically, of course, the more challenges you give to a couple to heighten the drama of their story, the more difficult it can be to make their HEA convincing. Sometimes an ending of not UNhappy is okay is plenty romantic for me.
But one thing I’ve heard over and over is that for HEA-committed Romance readers, the pleasures in reading are different depending on genre expectations. And because so many Romance readers seem to be such voracious readers, across and between genres (now THERE would be an interesting follow-up reader survey, IMO), I don’t think it’s so much knowing how it’s going to end as much as enjoying the way there and being able to experience certain emotional pleasures that won’t dissolve in tragedy at the end. I imagine the same would be true of Mystery readers, because again, you have a puzzle that will always be solved by the end of a book, and I would think that the sense of closure there is relatable to the sense of closure the HEA ending brings for many readers. Sure you know who ends up together, but for some readers, I think, that heightens the enjoyment gained in reading about everything in between.
A version of this discussion has been going on for the past few weeks at Dear Author and at the editorial blog at Juno Books (juno-books.com), which is publishing Gail Dayton’s final Rose book and has recently published a volume of “paranormal romance” insisting on the *old* definition of romance as adventure (thus some of the stories don’t have happy endings, which has ticked some Romance readers off). That’s one of the reasons I tend to capitalize Romance when I’m speaking of the current genre, because even though the capitalized version of the word usually refers to the Romance languages, I don’t know how else to distinguish the genre reference at a time when it seems necessary to.
While two years ago I would have said that my expectations were the same no matter what genre I read, that is no longer true, and it’s only the genres about which I’m *less* educated or widely read that I have amorphous or ill-formed expectations. Now, for example, when I pick up a Romance, I know there will be an intense focus on a love relationship, and probably a HEA ending. And my expectations play a role in choosing a Romance over another type of book. With S/F it’s often about the social/poolitical commentary for me, and Fantasy is the genre I’m just starting to dabble in and want to understand better. Lit Fic is a constant staple, and is probably the one un-genre for which I have no explicit expectations.
I guess my expectations sort of do change with every genre.
I don’t expect as much romance in a fantasy or sci-fi novel, because most of the time it needs a notable size of the book to build the world itself, and not the characters. I also am more, uh, I guess open minded when I read something from these genres. It’s a different society with different rules. I don’t expect it to be like the regular books I gaze over.
If I’m reading a contemporary, then I expect a lot of romance because I live in a similar world. There isn’t as much to build time and universe wise, and that’s not to say it doesn’t need it, but it shouldn’t be as much as a sci-fi world, in my experience.
But these are vague, and if they’re torn to pieces when I read something, I don’t mind. I like it when authors are able to show that no matter what I think, they can mold a story that I’ll enjoy regardless of the mindset I came in with.
Bonnie said on...Curious to come across this discussion, just after spending most of my afternoon cleaning out a few book cases. And what to my wondering eyes did appear but a sci-fi/fantasy trilogy that I read many many years ago and thought that I had lost! They are The Broken Citadel, Castledown, and The Great Wheel, by Joyce Ballou Gregorian. I *loved* these stories and my paperback copies are in tatters from multiple re-reads.
They tell the story of its heroine as a young girl (The Broken Citadel), as a young woman (Castledown), and as a woman in her 30s (The Great Wheel). AND, there are two love interests in her life that made the story heart-breaking, as well as just a ripping good adventure tale. I read these long before I got interested in romance novels, and it’s curious to note that maybe the fantasy genre was a bit ahead of it’s time in this regard.
I would heartily recommend these stories if you are lucky to find copies of them.
Jackie L. said on...With so many cross genre novels being written, I think the hard and fast definitions are becoming obsolete. For instance, while Bujold writes excellent fantasy, I consider her Vorkosigan saga to be sci fi. So I think the definitions are less static than in the 70’s. Romance was Georgette Heyer and Harlequin back then, and sci fi was Asimov and Heinlein. Huge stylistic differences. Much more blurred now. However, I do have some expectations depending on the shelf I buy the book from. If both the hero and heroine wind up dying writhing in agony, that book better not be on the romance shelf. And if at the end of the book, I don’t know who dunnit, that better not be on the mystery shelf. My only real expectation from any of the reading that I do is that somebody should tell me a story. An engaging story where I don’t have to suspend ALL disbelief, where I care about some of the characters at least, where the setting is believable. Oh yeah, just well-written. Oh, and no scary, don’t do scary. Hate scary.
Charlene said on...I have completely different expectations for science fiction stories than I do for fantasy stories. I don’t see them as even remotely similar genres, let alone being in the same category. I’m not sure why bookstores and reviewers lump them together.
The setting of a fantasy story quite literally *cannot be possible*. Whether it’s a land where a king can use a magic sword, a city populated by weredragons, or whatever, the aspect must not just be impossible right now but must *never be possible*. Not now, not a thousand years in the past, not a thousand years in the future, not ever.
Science fiction (for the most part) deals with things that are not possible *right now* but which may be plausible at some other time. Whether it’s folding space to make faster-than-light travel possible or ocean-covered planets being used to farm plankton for food use, the settings have to be plausible. (There are science fiction stories set in the past, but even then the settings - Leonardo’s studio, the Roman Empire - and the events have to still be plausible.)
As to my expectations...I expect that a book I buy will be properly labelled. There is a difference between a romantic science fiction novel and a science fiction romance. If the story is primarily a romance, I expect a HEA, but I wouldn’t be shocked by a HEA in any other genre. This even though I’m not a great fan of HEAs unless they make sense in the story. It seems to me that too many romance readers are overly set on the HEA even when it doesn’t make sense, to the point that they’d rather have a poorly thought out book with an HEA than a well-conceived book without one. If the HEA doesn’t fit, the book should either be rewritten or not marketed as a romance novel. Preferably the former.
I expect that any book that deals with the present or future will be properly researched. Nothing takes me out of a book faster than historical or scientific inaccuracies, especially ones based on conventional wisdom. Not every writer has to educate, but they certainly shouldn’t mis-educate.
I’m a Romance book junkie (and I also capitalize it), but I have also read and enjoyed some Sci-Fi/Fantasy with romantic elements. My usual genres though are Paranormal Romance and Historical Romance hopefully with at least a bit of spice.
I read “The Rest Falls Away” thanks to the SB’s review and I enjoyed it. Interestingly enough, this follows shortly after reading another Paranormal Romance that did not end with a traditional HEA- Cameron Dean’s Candace Steele Vampire Hunter trilogy.
These books had the same type of bittersweet sticks-in-your-mind ending that most of the few SF/F books/trilogies I’ve read also had.
Would I want a steady diet of non-HEA Romance? Nope! I love the journey to the HEA, but the fact that a book doesn’t have the HEA actually makes it more memorable.
It’s starting to seem that a new genre is evolving- Paranormal Romance as a separate genre where everything and anything goes. I like that this new genre is not so predictable!
Molly said on...I don’t like romances without a HEA or with multiple heroes, because I pick up a romance novel when I’m in the mood for a love story. If it’s in the romance section, I expect the story to be about two people falling in love and triumphing over whatever to end up together. I like plenty of other kinds of books, including really edgy ones, but as a reader I don’t like feeling tricked.
When I read SciFi or Fantasy I have no expectations like that and it wouldn’t occur to me to be bothered by breaking of Romance genre ‘rules.’ But, honestly, if the book isn’t ultimately about interesting characters and the relationships between them (family, friendships, enemies, anything) then I probably won’t bother to finish. Wars and quests just aren’t really interesting to me.
Interesting timing of this discussion, I’ve just finished Robin McKinley’s “Sunshine” which I got off the Romance shelf, and was thus expecting a lovely HEA. I had never read a fantasy/SF novel before and was left feeling a little hollow afterwards when that never happened. A rough devirginizing into the genre to say the least. The book was absolutely amazing, the characters were wonderful and the world building was unlike anything I’ve ever read, but I can’t say yet whether I will dive into fantasy or sci-fi now. I may check out some of the author’s other books but at least then I can brace myself for it and enter with different expectations.
I *love* Robin McKinley. I highly recommend all her books, especially Beauty and The Blue Sword if you’re looking for a HEA. But none of her other books end as ambiguously as Sunshine, except maybe Deerskin, though I’d say it’s more hopeful than ambiguous.
I wonder if Sunshine was mis-shelved. I’ve only ever seen it in the Horror section of the Borders and Barnes. The rest of hers are usually shelved in the YA or Children’s or SF/F sections (and sometimes in all three in some stores).
You started me thinking, and I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m a wee bit hypocritical. Thanks loads, Sarah.
In straight fantasy, I don’t care if the romantic elements get a HEA or if there are a dozen or none, as long as it makes sense with the story. I do, of course, expect thorough and consistent worldbuilding.
However, fantasy romance doesn’t get a pass from me on the worldbuilding just because it says “romance” on the spine and gives me a HEA. There are some paranormal romances out there that irritate the heck out of me because of sloppy or virtually non-existent worldbuilding. The romance needs to have the worldbuilding and the HEA (HEA being the definition of romance).
Historical innacuracy doesn’t bug me a bit, unless it’s so egregious that even someone as history-challenged as I can notice it, like electric lights in a medieval castle. But throw in nonsensical magical powers, and I get testy. Yes, I read sf/f before I read romance.
Great discussion!
When I read, any genre, I read to escape reality for a little while. I like to read lots of different genres, but romance is my safety net. I hate, in any genre, when it turns out the hero, who I and the heroine have fallen in love with, is actually the evil killer. I also hate having protaganists killed off at the end of the story. A book labelled Romance promises me that that won’t happen. When I read other genres I can get some fabulous stories, but I’m never quite sure where the author is going to take me in the end. That, in and of itself, adds a level of tension for me.
For pure comfort, I trust Romance not to slap me at the end. Even with that said, I’m fine with a Hopeful Ever After instead of a Happy Ever After.
I wanted to add that as far as world-building, description, narrative, editing, etc., I expect the same basic level of quality no matter what genre the book is labelled.
I think that romance fans can be the least willing to give up their personal expectations and surrender to the author’s unique vision—which is to me part of the fun of having someone tell me a story.
I prefer a happy ending to almost any book or movie, although I’m looking for a happy ending consistent with the characters and the plot, not a generic wedded bliss sort of situation.
This is why I become so frustrated with modern horror. I find no redemptive value in “and then they all die” endings, when there is usually so much more emotional impact to imagining the characters surviving and going on after the horror changed them, if that makes sense.
I had a writing coach in my youth who said that letting your characters die in the end isn’t cool or hip or tragic. Most of the time it’s just authorial laziness, a cop-out ending to avoid properly tying up your characters, plot and theme.
So I guess in all genres (and I am a voracious fan of anything with a monster in it), I’m looking for character and plot consistency as my #1 expectation. And #2—be original in the speculative element. For example, if I read or watch another angsty brooding vampire, I’m going to puke.
The main difference would be that I expect the main characters to be likeable in a romance. That doesn’t mean they can’t be complex, or have failings, or must love their mothers - but if I dislike them, and don’t care whether they are happy, the book won’t work as a romance for me - however good the writing, however well drawn the characters.
I’m not sure about other genres - I often read books that end happily: but perhaps most genre books do. Murder mysteries are solved, quests are completed and the first XI always win the Schools Cup.
Estelle Chauvelin said on...I read a little bit of almost everything (I think the only genre I don’t touch at all is Western, more from lack of motivation than any real dislike) and I expect any author to play by the rules of the setting. That means historical accuracy for contemporary/historical settings, and consistancy within the world the author creates for science fiction and fantasy settings. If it’s fantasy, you don’t suddenly have magic able to break limitations that were placed on it earlier, with no reason for it to have changed, just because it’s the simplest way to solve a problem. Your fantasy creatures don’t develop convienient abilities they never had earlier, either. (Can you tell I find Superman a bit ridiculous?) If it’s science fiction, your sf technology is consistant. And people need motivation no matter what world they are living in: authors are not allowed to have somebody turn 180 degrees from villain to all around good guy without some kind of logical explanation just because they are the authors and they said so, even if they invented not only the characters but the entire planet on which they live.
Of course, I would have a hard time defining different expectations for different genres, because so many of the books I read qualify for at least two. Most of the romance I read is also fantasy (I’m thinking of P.C. Cast and Gail Dayton, here) and much of the fantasy also features strong romantic themes and usually a HEA. Most of the mysteries I read are also historical fiction: one series customarily gets shelved with the general fiction instead of mystery because of this, even though it’s a detective series. The only genre-based distinction I can really make is that a book ought to be shelved in the area where it most closely complies with the genre conventions.
I stay away from most everything but romance because I’ve figured out that what I want to read about is building a romantic, sexual relationship. So if a book is labeled romance but is mostly mystery with a dash of romance thrown in (NR’s Northern Lights, IMO), then I’m disappointed in the book even WITH the happy ending because it’s much more a mystery to me and I just couldn’t care less. So, I imagine if I’ve read most of a book before I realize the ending isn’t happy, I’d be pretty pissed. But then, I read the ending first, and usually don’t pick up those books anyway.
The book(s) that popped into my head while reading this post are “The Dragon Prince” series by Melanie Rawn.
The world building was very good.
What I remember most is the relationships/romantic and not. I think that this particular series hooked me was because of the romantic relationships, and that is probably because I was a romance reader first.
Are the reason the two genres are right next to each other at the book store because of their similarities?
I think that romance fans can be the least willing to give up their personal expectations and surrender to the author’s unique vision—which is to me part of the fun of having someone tell me a story.
Do you mean with Romance or with other genres? The only prejudice I’ve run up against pretty consistently is that against literary fiction as pretentious/depressing/obscure.
Do you mean with Romance or with other genres? The only prejudice I’ve run up against pretty consistently is that against literary fiction as pretentious/depressing/obscure.
I wasn’t talking about prejudice. That has negative connotations. I said expectations, and there’s no judgment about expectations.
I mean that romance fans have very clear and not especially flexible expectations from their reading experiences. This is neither a bad nor a good thing. I think that flexibility in expectations is growing, thanks in part to other genres blending in: sf/f/h, erotica and suspense.
From my point of view as a reader, I think this is a strength and a weakness. Romance fans are consistently satisfied, or one would assume so by sales numbers, by having clear expectations that authors meet. But those clear expectations do limit the kinds of rides you can take with a romance novel. The growing paranormal romances and to a degree romantic suspenses and erotic romances, too, are meeting the needs of other types of readers, like me, who do not have as clearly defined requirements from a reading experience.
Neither way of reading is “better.” Just different, and I like to see everyone satisfied. Don’t you?
Veriword: head73
I chewed on this post for a while (sorry about the teeth-marks) because I’m really one of the outsiders here; I read and write fantasy, not romance, and stick around mostly because I think it’s interesting and educational to think about things from a different genre angle than the one I live in.
There are a lot of reasons I don’t read romance, some of which I recognize as not entirely valid; the florid, man-titty ridden clinch covers put me off, as does the notion of heroines who are too stupid to breathe without instructions, etc. And while I know there’s good romance out there, the thought of wading around trying to find it is daunting. (Especially when my TBR list is already long enough, thank you.) But I’m highly considering picking up The Rest Falls Away, and not just because it’s been recommended.
The difference with that one, and the more fundamental reason I don’t read romance, is that I want there to be something else at the center of the story besides the romantic relationship. That can share the spotlight, but if it’s the only thing there, I tend to lose interest. Patricia C. Wrede and Caroline Stevermer’s Sorcery and Cecelia (or The Enchanted Chocolate-Pot, depending on the version) has a strong focus on romance and two HEAs you can see a mile off, but it’s also got mortal peril and evil magicians and plot that has to do with things other than the main relationships. My experience with fantasy conditions me to expect the protagonists to be doing something important while they’re falling in love. I can do without the love (and sometimes appreciate writers avoiding romantic implications), but I can’t really do without the plot.
Joyce said, “I mean that romance fans have very clear and not especially flexible expectations from their reading experiences. This is neither a bad nor a good thing. I think that flexibility in expectations is growing, thanks in part to other genres blending in: sf/f/h, erotica and suspense.”
I’m not a genre reader. I come to this site because I think Sarah and Candy are two of the funniest chicks on the web and because I appreciate the lively, intelligent forums. I wrote a novel that I considered a comedy with a paranormal element. But since it doesn’t fit neatly into a category and since women writers must be put in categories, it has sometimes been listed as a paranormal romance. This confuses readers who have firm expectations of how the characters are “supposed” to behave.
And the readers confused me when they talked about the “hero,” when I’d never thought about a hero while writing it. My main character, a young woman, is the hero if there is one. Readers were also annoyed with my book for breaking conventions of an HEA—I had to google to find out what the heck “HEA” meant.
There is some pleasure of a formula where you know the destination and the fun is how you get there. (I hope that is true with my romantic comedy.) But, like Joyce, I enjoy reading books where the destination is not determined by mere convention, and I agree that some flexibility will offer new delights.
Ditto my background to Marie Brennan, above. I’m an SF/F reader, not a Romance reader, but I hang out here because I love kickin’ with smart bitches. Also, I have every intention of attending some major RWA convention-type-thingy, because Romance writers have got their shit together when it comes to working the business end of the gig. SF/F writers are catching up, but we’re miles behind the Romance people.
Also, I work for a major publisher, and our bread and butter is Romance. When I first started in publishing 13 years ago, I decided I had to read at least a handful of Romance novels, if only to see what was paying my rent. I chose books by BNAs, and focused on Historicals, because I felt those would appeal to me most.
My objection was what’s been echoed above: the prescripted ending. I would be reading this really good book, with compelling characters and an exciting plot full of tension, hot sex scenes that usually made sense (more about this anon), villians with a motivation beyond “because I’m jealous and hateful” (more about this anon, too), and subplots galore.
Yum.
Except.
Then I would get about 20 or 40 pages from the end, and I would think, “How are they going to wrap up all this in so little time?” And the author would sort of quickly pull it all together, usually with the hero killing the villain, and then spend the last 6 or 8 pages on an epilogue in which the H&H experience the birth of their first child.
I felt so gypped. I don’t mind that it’s a happy ending, but don’t tease me with a juicy, juicy plot and then quickly blow through the payoff just so you can get to the HEA. (For my money, I love the ending of Gone With the Wind, which is, let’s be honest, a romance novel. Except it doesn’t have an HEA.)
With a fantasy novel, when I get 20 pages from the end and realize it can’t be wrapped up in that short time, I at least know it will continue in the next book. That’s annoying too, but I can live with it, since I write the things and I am totally guilty of the same.
Over the years, I’ve read several dozen more romance novels, if only because they cross my desk and a writer with fair prosody chops will suck me in. I fare better with Contemporarys in regard to plots, but I generally don’t like the characters--the percentage of neurotic heroines makes it hard to find a good one. This is particularly true in ChickLit. (Meg Cabot, however, entertains me. Her heroines are just screwball enough that the neuroses are charming, and I love her heroes.)
About the sex scenes: I much prefer them when they have something to do with the story. Too many writers seem to say, “Oh, time for a sex scene” and just stick one in (I cannot avoid bad puns!). Better writers give me some reason why this scene is here--character development is standard, but I prefer when it’s unusual character development, and not a round of “I think I love you, and whoa damn you made me come and I am now totally, totally IN LOVE with you!”
About the villains: I’m really sick of the “because I’m jealous” motivation. Just sayin’. That’s as bad as a fantasy novel with a Big Bad who wants to take over the world because he’s eeeeeevil. “Cardboard” should never apply to characters who spend more than ten pages onscreen. (For the record, I also hate Fantasy of the “find the magic maguffin” variety. In short: I want something new and different in every book, not rehashed plots and stock characters.)
As for the blending of genres… I love a splash of romance in an SF/F novel. But for me the balance must go to the SF/F tropes and expectations. I read a paranormal romance (author redacted because my company published the book) where, in the middle of a fight scene, the heroine was stopping to check out the hero’s form. WTF? Pay attention, woman, you’re about to get killed! That book definitely sucked in my eyes because of all the Romancy stuff. The worldbuilding was good (it’s contemporary, but I liked the premise behind the supernatural elements), while the characters were kind of...thinly drawn. The hero was a stock Broody Vampire guy, but had appeal, and his broodiness made sense with the worldbuilding.
The heroine, however, had apparently hit every branch as she fell out of the Stupid Tree. The only reason I could think for her still being alive was because the Author Said So.
And therein sums up why, though I have read and enjoyed many romance novels, I cannot call myself a Romance reader: I hate about 50% of all heroines with the burning passion of a thousand suns. Insipid, illogical dimwits who luck their way through problems. Even many of the “plucky” ones are idiots, and constantly need rescuing from their own quixotic pluckiness. Argh!
Where are the romance novels with the down-to-earth, practical, omnicompetent heroines?
harthad said on...I too am not a romance reader; I stick mainly to fantasy/SF, and I hang out here because the Smatch Bitches are so much fun. Plus, the cover snarkage sometimes makes me laugh so hard I have to shut my office door....
I read Dayton’s “Compass Rose” on the basis of the review here. Although I liked it, I confess that as a non-romance reader, I was a little surprised by how much sex there was. Not that I’m opposed to the hawt secks, but I reached the point where I thought, “Dang, there’s another sex scene interrupting the plot again.” Which is not to say that there are no sex-laden fantasy/SF novels--I’ve read quite a few of them--but the “fade to black” encounter that someone mentioned above is somewhat more the norm.
I find the various comments about Romance requiring an HEA interesting, because one feature of the classic fantasy quest tale is its near-insistence on the HEA. Even if there have been horrific losses along the way, good almost always triumphs in the end. (For example, the end of the Lord of the Rings isn’t “happy” in the conventional sense, because Frodo is so damaged by his experiences that he is no longer able to live in his workaday world, but still, evil was defeated.) I suspect it’s the influence of other types of modern fiction that has made fantasy more open to ambiguous endings, which is a good development for story-telling. But personally, I still feel disappointed by fantasy novels that feature consistently bleak moral landscapes.
I feel like the nature of the HEA can be more flexibile in a fantasy novel than in a romance—though of course I’m talking out of my ass here, since my survey of romance is pretty much nonexistent. That is, because the central plots can be about a wider variety of things, the endings are a little less predictable; you may spend the first half of the book learning what the central conflict is, let alone how it will be resolved. (Cover copy does not always make this clear, nor should it.) So yeah, I go into most fantasies with a fair certainty that the good guys will win, but not only do I not know how, I may not know right off the bat what “winning” means in this situation.
Nancy Gee said on...Well, I’m not exactly a true Romance reader, either. Part of my disinterest in Romance novels is the predictable ending (that darn HEA). I like to be in doubt as to the ending when I read.
I also have a hard time overcoming my imbedded cynicism to buy into the classic HEA, or indeed, even to enjoy the exclusive focus on a developing romantic relationship. At my curmudgeonly age, I’ve seen very little evidence that Twu Wuv really can conquer all. When up against a romance plot, and I start muttering, “Yeah, right! What guy would really do that?”, I need to distract myself with other things in the plot, and allow the romance-y stuff to slide in under the radar. True confession: It’s easier for me to suspend disbelief about wizards, aliens, reincarnation, or time travel, than to believe in soul mates or love-lasts-forever.
So I read mostly literary and fantasy fiction, a surprising amount of which has romantic subplots. It’s like shredding veggies into the spaghetti sauce so the kids will eat ‘em.
Unfortunately, I have discovered over a two-and-a-half-year period of exploring within the genre that the more Romance I read, the less I like it as a whole & the less eager I am to pick up the next book & the more confining the genre feels to me. It’s better for me & I am a happier & a more pleasant person to be around on blogs & message boards if I confine myself to just one really good Romance every two or three months—or maybe even longer intervals would suit me better.
(The problem is always finding that one good Romance & not wasting my time with all the other stuff.)
And this isn’t very high-minded of me, but I probably would read even fewer Romances than that, if they didn’t include well-written, very explicit sex scenes. That’s what I’m there for, mostly. Everything else feels weirdly out of whack with the real world.
The problem, for me, with most of the genre is the “well-written” part. Not many authors seem to care a lot for the language & its potential, and they don’t push at the boundaries quite enough for my tastes. If they do, their transgressiveness seems to be at the level of an Amish girl wearing a miniskirt to school one day—when the rest of her peer group outside her little subculture has already been viewing crotch shots of Britney all over the Internet.
Candy said on...The problem, for me, with most of the genre is the “well-written” part. Not many authors seem to care a lot for the language & its potential, and they don’t push at the boundaries quite enough for my tastes.
That’s one of my pet peeves with the romance genre, too. I suspect we’re in the minority, though, sherryfair; over and over, the authors who sell big are people who are mediocre prose stylists at best who nevertheless know how to tell a tale that manages to grip the public-at-large.
Regarding the inflexibility of the HEA and being bothered by a book when you know how it’s going to end: You know, that doesn’t really bother me. I am, in fact, one of those freaks who will flip to the end of a book just to see what happens, and then proceed to finish the book, eager to see how the author will get me from point A to point B. I do this for almost every work of fiction I read. Most of the time I do it out of force of habit, but sometimes I do it because the suspense is killing me and I have to find out what happens to a certain character. One of the most notable instances in recent memory was the ending of The Ghost Road by Pat Barker, which I flipped to when I was only halfway through the book. Knowing the ending made the rest of the book almost agonizing to read, and it added a layer of tension that would’ve been...not less, but different, if I hadn’t sneaked a peek.
For me, the destination, while important, doesn’t determine the bulk of my enjoyment; it’s more about the journey.
I do agree that some HEAs feel shoehorned. I don’t like it when the endings are too neat, or when the resolution is utterly unconvincing. Worst are the “Look at how happy we are with our 2 kids frolicking in the sun!” sorts of epilogues. One Lisa Kleypas book made me roll my eyes in that regard; the heroine had had a miscarriage, and the epilogue featured the heroine surrounded by healthy children and a horny husband. I would’ve been satisfied not knowing, or (and this would be an unheard-of move of supreme ballsiness on a romance author’s part) finding out that the heroine really couldn’t carry a pregnancy to term, and that her relationship with her husband survived and grew stronger anyway. The epilogue in Bet Me by Jennifer Crusie gets a pass, however, because it was so wonderfully atypical, and because the various resolutions fit so neatly with the characters.
In terms of expectations: I’m quite tolerant of an author fucking around with genre expectations; in fact, I love it when authors tweak with my expectations a little and play with them. I just ask that there be some sort of internal consistency in the world, and for any major surprises to be in line with the world-building that has gone on before. A realistic police procedural-type thriller set in modern times that suddenly features magical realism halfway through the book would make me go “WHAT THE FUCK,” and not in a good way; on the other hand, inserting magical realism into, say, a steampunk novel might bend my brain a little, but it wouldn’t break it. And to once again pick on Lisa Kleypas (I don’t mean to, really, because I enjoy her books quite a bit), Prince of Dreams is one of the most memorable examples of a drastic change in direction that was an interesting failure. I went in expecting a historical, and then partway through, it suddenly became a time-travel romance. I couldn’t shake the feeling that Nikolas had cheated on Emma during that portion of the book, even though Kleypas tried to show how they were the same person, and his transformation was less convincing because of the bizarre and utterly unnecessary route it took.
I’ve read books that weren’t really romance that were marketed as romance novels, like MJ Davidson’s Undead series, for example, and figuring out partway through that they weren’t really romance novels didn’t interfere with my enjoyment of them. However, these books, while not romances, didn’t stray too far from the formula. I’m not sure how I’d feel if I picked up a romance and had one of the main characters die by the end, for example. I’d like to think that if the ending fit, I’d roll with it and not feel cheated.
This is my first comment on the site I am enjoying for almost a year, but the discussion is too interesting to miss. I used to read romances voraciously, then slightly guiltily, then, overwhelmed by all the bad romances that happened in my reading, I stopped and never quite managed to come back to them. I read a lot of genre fiction – mysteries, fantasy, sf, chick-lit (I passionately hate this name, but I tend to gravitate to that table in a bookstore anyway), and regular fiction or the one with less defined genre. I do prefer reading a story with the romance in it, preferably the one that ends well, or at the very least, with hope ahead. I am the kind of person who checks the end of a book before beginning, but I will be more satisfied with less-than-happy ending that grows naturally than with HEA pasted on the story with no sense in it. I love that warm, tingly feeling I have reading about people meeting, falling in love and figuring what to do about it, but I need that something else was equally important and their love was only a part of the story. In this I fully agree with Marie Brennan. Plus, it gives the thrill of uncertainty that makes arriving at the final page so sweet (peeking on the final page before time notwithstanding). My main expectations are that authors will follow their own rules set for any particular story. It’s not so much about meticulous world building as much as about trusting that an author knows what she is doing about this world. I can suspend my disbelieve pretty high if I trust the author, but when I read about mammoth riding a motorcycle in a Regency mystery… the trust is hard to regain.
My biggest case of broken expectations happened when I was around 7. I was reading a book of fairy-tales, and in one tale the hero, after saving a princess and marrying her, just died. Can you imagine the horror? That’s probably what lead to my habit of checking the end first.
Interesting! I was exclusively a Sci Fi/Fantasy, Action/Thriller and former Horror fan and have only recently made the tentative steps into the romance genre, mainly because of a change in pace. I’d rather not get into horror again and most actions and thrillers bore me except on movies and tv, however I still read Fantasy (mostly) and Sci Fi occasionally and I realize that I do have different expectations and different standards when reading something. With romance I’m of course there for the character relationship, with a plot secondary the plot however to me can’t be skimped nor can it be copped out. With fantasy world building is important but for me the journey the character goes through mentally, physically and emotionally is what I really like for. They may emerged a changed for the better or worse person at the end or they may not change at all. It’s what happens to them both on the outside and the inside that makes me really love a novel. This makes me personally a character driven reader. As for consistency and reality, as in accuraacy for the world--I can suspend my disbelief far but not that far, I guess I’m a bit more picky with historical romances because I am a history buff so that for me personally will show and I will snarl XD. If I read a historical romance I want some kind of accuracy but it doesn’t have to be a history text book.
I had a writing coach in my youth who said that letting your characters die in the end isn’t cool or hip or tragic. Most of the time it’s just authorial laziness, a cop-out ending to avoid properly tying up your characters, plot and theme.
I’ve come to believe almost the exact opposite with the novels I’ve read I more often then not find authors refusing to kill off their characters because of authorial laziness and emotional attatchment. It’s simply to hard and difficult to really tackle the emotional impact and repurcussions and (hopeful) healing that could occur because of character death. True character death not cop out ressurections or token dead guy to provide the hero/herione with a reason to angst hotly. Characters that don’t really effect how things go with their death. I see that quite often. I find the author has grown far to attatched to the characterssor perhaps are afraid to take that plunge into the emotional trauma and problems that might be caused by a character death, quite often almost unbelieveable resolutions are pulled out of thin air or deus-ex-machina’s are introduced simply to keep the characters from suffering in anykind of way (this is especially common in Mary Sues *cough*Anita/Merry are prime well known examples*Cough*). I’ve always found that when done right on the right characters you can really pull some emotional depth out of a story and add a real layer of danger (if that’s what your after in the story) with the death of a beloved character.
Now however, this comes with a downfall on the rare occasion (that I’ve seen) that if you kill off too many important or beloved characters (unless your going with a straight out unhappy ending) then there’s a really strong possibility you’re left with characters who aren’t sympathetic or even likeable. The reader is left going “Why would I weant to go along a story with this person?” I hate to say it (many fantasy fans will burn me at the steak as a heretic for saying this) but this is why I’m not fond of George R.R. Martins novels anymore. The characters he has left...well the annoyance and dislike overrides anything positive about them.
Or there’s the possiblity you have authors who are just sadistically trying to kill of characters for shock vaule or are merely trying to weed down their massive cast. With the horror genre, it’s different that’s expected hence the reason it’s horror for goodnesss sakes. But when I see it in other genres that aren’t out to do that I get annoyed.
And what to my wondering eyes did appear but a sci-fi/fantasy trilogy that I read many many years ago and thought that I had lost! They are The Broken Citadel, Castledown, and The Great Wheel, by Joyce Ballou Gregorian. I *loved* these stories and my paperback copies are in tatters from multiple re-reads.
Holy cripes!
The Broken Citadel?
Castledown?
The Great Wheel?
Never thought I’d see those titles pop up here. Practically fell on the floor. If you likes them, if you read them until the covers fell off, email meeee!
Not spam, I swear. But I know the books well. Love to talk about them.
I wasn’t talking about prejudice. That has negative connotations. I said expectations, and there’s no judgment about expectations.
I mean that romance fans have very clear and not especially flexible expectations from their reading experiences.
I guess I’m unclear about how inflexible expectations are distinct from pre-judgment of a book, but in any case, you’re right that I inferred a negative take in your comment on reader expectations because of your suggestion that a reader resists the “author’s unique vision.”
I like neutrality part of your point, though, because I do think Romance readers get kind of a harsh rap for appreciating a genre that has at least one identifiable “rule” that readers expect to be in tact.
Where I’m torn is in whether readers are, in fact, generally resisting an author’s individual vision or whether readers have certain expectations with Romance that they might not have with other genres.
Within Romance, I do feel that the genre as a whole tends to be too formulaic, but I wonder whether that’s a function of reader inflexibility or low expectations on the part of publishers and authors for readers or mediocre books as more common than outstanding, envelope-pushing books.
I love it when Romance—or any other genre—breaks rules, but I know I’m probably in the minority there. And I’m frustrated that more books aren’t complex and challenging to readers rather than what I see as uninspired or lazy. Actually, I think there is more and more reliance on readers to fill in character traits, plug gaps in logic, worldbuild in their own imaginations, and otherwise do the finishing work of writing a satisfying novel themselves. I’m also one of those cynical readers who doesn’t necessarily believe that Romance readers are satisfied but rather that they are genre loyal and will continue to purchase books even if they don’t like them.
What’s really sad to me is that I think in the right hands the “limitations” of genre fiction can actually catalyze great work—in the same way that forcing a sonnet into certain word or line counts can impel a writer to distill down to the perfect words and images. So weirdly, while I think the narrowness of Romance can be a problem I’m not sure it’s inherent to the genre but rather has become a by-product of factory publishing practices more than anything else.
Like Candy and Sherryfair, I too lament the overall quality of writing in Romance, but I don’t think that’s a Romance problem *per se* and I worry that the more mediocrity I read in the genre the lower my expectations become for a “fresh” or “well-written” book. That scares me and I don’t know what to do about it.
As for your point about authorial vision, I really wonder how many truly unique visions we’re getting as readers. And is that a function of reader expectations or something else? I can tell you that there is nothing more satisfying in Romance for me than having an author SELL me a HEA ending in a way that feels natural, logical, and emotionally real. On one level, there is complete conformity with the genre boundaries, and thus with reader expectations based on genre boundaries, but there can, IMO, be incredible creativity within those parameters and a good deal of talent on display when an author can really sell the genre to me in a way that feels emotionally and intellectually plugged in. So I guess I’m ambivalent both about the role and effect of reader expectations and the idea that authors generally trying to lead readers somewhere new and being refused. When I feel an author is screwing with the rules for the sake of screwing with the rules, for example, I’m more frustrated than with an author who follows them with a certain logical consistency. Best of all, of course, is a truly inspired book, but I’m not sure there are enough of these around (and I’m talking en mass here, not the very tippy top that we refer to here over and over again) to suggest that readers are rejecting them. I know I’ve gotten frustrated a couple of times when an author tries to claim that readers didn’t like her book because she was doing something new and the reader resisted. In a number of cases, I didn’t like those books because they just weren’t very good books, IMO, even factoring in any potential risk.
What I find utterly maddening is when a HEA romance is thrust, sans any logical connection to plot advancement, into a novel or movie that has little or no connection to the romance genre. Lord, how often I’ve ranted about this! I adore a well constructed (prosaically or cinematically) thriller or fantasy...and want to scream in outrage every time some pointless HEA coupling is thrown into the dramatic mix. Sad to say, this happens far too often, and it severely compromises both the story’s credibility and my enjoyment of it.
I have tremendous respect for writers who are true enough to their genres to kill off/separate/reveal ugly truths about their heroes and/or heroines--or simply not bother with any romantic entanglements at all--if good, tight plotting demands it. The movie A Perfect Murder is an excellent example of such purity. As much as my eyes love to linger on Viggo Mortensen, I didn’t mind in the least having him end up a gut-stabbed scumbag rather than ride off into the sunset with the pristine Gwyneth Paltrow. How utterly freakin’ refreshing!
Now, if only writers of commercial fiction could enjoy such latitude…
What I find utterly maddening is when a HEA romance is thrust, sans any logical connection to plot advancement, into a novel or movie that has little or no connection to the romance genre.
I’ll go one further: I hate it when a love story of ANY sort is thrust into a story that doesn’t need it. The latest culprit was the movie version of V for Vendetta. The romance felt tacked on and shoddy, and it really would’ve worked much better if Evie and V’s relationship had been a great deal more ambivalent, instead of glossed over with “OMG I LURVESES YOU.”
And many romance novels have stories that would’ve been better if the love story hadn’t been present, or if the characters had ended up with other people, or died in a fiery zeppelin crash in the end. But that may be the bitterness of having to wade through too many awful romance novels in my time talking.
But that may be the bitterness of having to wade through too many awful romance novels in my time talking.
Do you think that proportionately speaking more bad Romance novels are written, or that because so many of the damn things are published that it seems that proportionately more of them are bad. There’s some shiteous SF/F out there too, as well as horrific Mystery, etc. I remember Candice Proctor complaining about this in her article on genre fiction (posted stil on her website, I think). I wonder if Romance publishing has become the factory farming center of the literary marketplace.
Nora Roberts said on...Northern Lights was labeled Novel--just fyi. It’s me who’s labeled Romance, and I’ve got no problem with that.
I don’t agree that most or many Romance writers don’t care about prose, or words. I care--a lot. You may not like my prose or my word choices, but I work hard at both.
So, now that that’s done…
As a reader I look for a solid story, well-written with engaging characters. I want to be sucked in. If I’m not sucked in by the first couple of chapters, I’m going to set the book aside and pick up another. The world’s too full of books for me to push through one that doesn’t appeal to me personally, or suit my mood at the time.
If I’m reading genre, I want my expectations of that genre to be met. If I’m reading Romance and the heroine pulls an Anna Karrinina (or is it Karinnina?), I’m going to be pissed. If I’m reading Mystery, and at the end the protagonist says: Gee, I don’t know WHO dun it, so I guess I’ll just go have a beer. Going to be pissed. If I’m reading anything but say King Lear, and at the end the bodies of most of the characters I’ve invested in are littering the pages....yep, pissed again.
I love a good ride. Cruise by familiar scenery, that’s fine. Surprise me, amuse me, shock me, take all the detours you want--that’s fine, too. But if I paid my money, spent my time expecting to be delivered to a certain point and you drop me off elsewhere I’m going to want a full refund.
Kainee said on...I’m actually a reader of both genres so I think I’m in an unique position. However, this means that I am probably harsher on romance fantasies or fantasy romances. This is mostly because I think that most of the romance authors are trying to get away with general laziness by marketing their books as straight fantasies when they’re not. Also, it must be considered what the purpose of the book is? I consider fantasy to be a showcase of the world and/or characters. The purpose of a normal fantasy is usually about the quest or the adventure. Romance is definitely character-oriented and the purpose is the romance. The conflict of a romance is HOW will the couple get together whereas the conflict in a fantasy is usually more of how will the hero save the world? It’s completely different because even if the romance had a fantasy plot, the fact that the world is saved is always less important than whether or not the hero and heroine get together.
I’m sure that I sound fairly biased for fantasies but I get seriously annoyed when people choose to write in a genre just for a marketing gimmick. Plus, I’m fairly bitter about it because I read a book that I thought was straight fantasy and turned out to just be a romance book trying to masquerade as one. It was deceptive and it was a crappy book to begin with. Fantasy just has a completely different feel from romance. The deceptive marketing pissed me off to the point that I actually wrote a review of it though (Sorceress of Faith by Robin D. Owens). The review itself might be enlightening of my mindset…
I read a lot of fantasy so I believe I’ve gained a familiarity with the stereotypes as well as an ability to recognize good fantasy writing too. This book might have been a good fantasy read but there were too many factors working against it. First of all, this book really should have been qualified as a romance because that was the whole purpose of the book—to get the heroine together with the love interest. Normally, I enjoy romances in fantasies/fiction but not when the fantasy is subservient to the romance when this book is supposed to be a complete fantasy. However, even if you evaluate this as a romance, it is unfulfilling and incomplete. So, this is a dual review as I will analyze this book as both a romance and as a fantasy.
As a fantasy, the reason I find this book incomplete is that the world is simply not unique enough and is definitely not grounded. The worldbuilding might have been something that the author worked on but it was simply not apparent in this book. It did not help that this was not exactly a stand-alone book. Many of the integral fantastical concepts needed to explain the world of Lladrana seemed to have been introduced in a prior book and the author didn’t seem to even bother explaining any of them in great detail. I did not have the dubious privilege of reading the preceding book as I did not realize this was a sequel so the fact that explanation of any terms was either late or withheld did not help with my immersion in this world. But frankly, I doubt even with all the facts, I would have enjoyed this world very much. Why? There are many reasons why.
First of all, the language is explained as similar to French except a bit different. Normally, this would not be a problem but I am unsatisfied with how Ms. Owens handled the writing on the Lladrana language. I also think that she didn’t put much thought into this language—even if it’s incomplete, there should have been some careful planning on integrating it more thoroughly so that the world is conveyed well. First of all, the term “Exotique” that is used to describe an outsider or alien like Marian sounds dumb because even with the French ending, we all know it just means exotic. Then to have the affirmative in a language be “ayes” when in French, it is “oui” is rather contradictory in my mind as “aye” is used in English so “ayes” is basically just an old form of the English yes with an s added. The language could have been used more successfully if it was just used to name concepts unique to the world of Lladrana like the jerir juice but the fact that English or Latin sounding terms like atomball, Medica, pairling, practicum and Dark is used just makes the language a sad hodge-podge. If I really want to be strict, the fact that Marian seemed to easily attain native fluency of the Lladrana language simply because she is fluent in French means that the writing itself shouldn’t have had nearly so many French words thrown in as it did. “Oeuf” was used to describe an omelette, for godssakes! It means egg in French, there’s really no need to use it just because it looks mysterious to non-French speakers because to people who know what it means, it just jolts them out of the writing. My complaint is that the language is not consistent enough since besides French, English and Latin have been used in the special labels given to places, objects and concepts. Frankly, I don’t know if Ms. Owens even properly researched the French language—perhaps I just dislike languages that are lazy. Seeing stuff like “sangvile” annoys me as it was used in conjunction with other terms like “worms,” “renders,” and “frinks.” Also “sang” is just blood in French so “sangvile” would just mean ‘bad blood’ and it just sounds stupid, in my mind.
Another complaint that I have are the names of characters. Frankly, the names are as much of a hodgepodge as the inconsistent Lladrana language. Marian is an English name, which I can forgive but to have names like Luthan used in the same book as a name like Bossgond and Jaquar is ridiculous to me, especially if the world’s language is supposed to just be a corrupt form of French. What I would say to Ms. Owens is “Make up your mind!” When I see actual quotes that praise an author on her worldbuilding, only to be presented with this sad confusing mix, it’s rather frustrating and decreases the book in my eyes.
Besides the language, the worldbuilding was poor since explanation of foreign concepts was so inconsistent. Sometimes, the term was used and you had to infer what it meant. Other times, if it was explained, it was explained rather blatantly as a primer for the reader and barely disguised—it was a disservice to the reader that Marian automatically got information through various Bonds that she established throughout the book because then it made Ms. Owens’ explanation of the few concepts she bothered to explain very obvious because why bother explaining stuff to someone who already knows it? It just made Marian even dumber to need a reiteration of something she supposedly already gleaned from some stupid Bond she made with someone. An example of a term not explained very well in the book is black-and-white. All I know is that it is some reason to be ostracized and it has something to do with coloring and unstable “Power” that causes epileptic symptoms but I had to infer all of this through context. To make matters worse, this term was first used in the beginning of the book to describe a character in an off-handed manner and I could only figure out this vague and incomplete definition towards the end of the book when enough facts had been accumulated for me to be able to hypothesize a vague idea of what a black-and-white was. The concept probably got dissected ad nauseum as it seems to be a character trait of one of the main characters of the previous book in the series but that doesn’t help the person who is reading THIS book and not that book. There were various other concepts that were not explained well enough, such as why Exotiques are so precious and exactly how the various magical concepts worked. The Lladrana currency, zhiv, was not explained at all even though it got multiple mentions—it would have been the perfect segueway to explaining how the actual Lladrana society worked.
Frankly, the world just read like some idealized form of medieval society with magic, rather than martial might, supporting the feudal system. I caught myself laughing in disbelief because all the medievalesque concepts such as robes, dresses and shoes got “perfected” as Marian’s dress actually CONFORMS to her breasts to give her a built-in bra. Yes, she has magical socks, shoes and clothing that is a magical One-Size-Fits-All. Again, no explanation of why this is so and what the cost of the magic is. All the magic users just seem to have a vague limit and the limit only appears whenever Ms. Owens needs to show off how powerful Marian is. Most of the magic that I read about in this book sounds like dream magic—namely, magic that you can do anything you want with and that you can just have with no cost or explanation. It is not well grounded and not well thought out. About all the explanation for the magic I got is about auras and songs, which just made it seem even more wishy-washy to me. It made the heroine, in my eyes, very much like an all-powerful vehicle for vicarious action. Human beings are normally not all-powerful and even if they had great power, there’s always a cost to something as no matter what kind of world it is, that is just the fact of life. The fact that Marian can control the weather by just CONCENTRATING with only a little mental fatigue as a result increases my sense of detachment. This is a reason why fantasy can get a lot of flack because too many authors think, “Oh, I’ll just explain it away by saying that it’s magic!” No, if there’s magic then there needs to be a rhyme and reason to it—life has some type of order to it even if it’s just birth, living and then death but that is still a system. There is always a cost or consequence to everything. There’s no reason to skip that with magic—even if there’s no science, it just means that magic takes the place of technology. So no, I don’t appreciate the shortcuts I see taken in this book.
Additionally, I would think that someone who was just thrown into the world would be pushed to their limits but I didn’t really perceive any such testing. My God, there are other fantasies of heroes/heroines native to their lands who’ve gone through way more than what Marian’s gone through. Usually, an outsider would have a much harder time than what she seemed to go through—it really does just seem like a cakewalk to me and I don’t think traveling to another world (whether by science or magic) would be that easy. If someone moved to another neighborhood in the same country, there would be adjustments that had to be made and things to grow accustomed to. The feelings of alienation and isolation would be even greater for a person immigrating to another country, much less another world! All I get from the heroine is her wonder at her surroundings and her growing sense of her destiny or some initial confusion over stuff to which her reaction is just a shrug and an “Oh.” Perhaps some lukewarm feelings of companionship with the other Exotique she meets. PUH-LEASE!
So, I have too much contempt for this book as a fantasy. Analyzing this book as a romance, I also have a lot of disdain for it. Why? Because this book happens over a time period of less than a month, if not half a month. You’re telling me that she meets a guy who she’s “attracted” to, sleeps with him and then suddenly they’re in love? I realize that this is a romance cliche but if done well, it is usually not an obstacle to enjoying the book. Yet, I find the execution immature because despite the third person narration, somehow the narration managed to include asides of how HOT the Lladrana men are or how much the men appreciates the exotic breasts of the Exotique women. Yes, excuse me as I spit out my drink in laughter. I could understand lust at first sight but I can’t buy the love—heck, even when Marian has the misunderstanding with the guy (which is a well-worn plot device btw but not a big deal), one of the key things she misses is the sex. Does she know anything about him other than what can be condensed down to a list of character traits? No. All they do when they’re together is think of sex. So yeah, I can’t really take the bond between them very seriously. Frankly, there’s not much chemistry between Marian and the guy besides what the author forces or states. The fact that the “courtship” takes a week at most makes it seem even more forced. Not very natural or irresistible. Marian just makes a few token resistances as well.
Also, much is made of Marian’s being an Exotique. There’s a feeble attempt on Ms. Owens’ part of giving Marian a case of low self-esteem with an occasional comment by Marian of how plump she is but that is greatly offset by the number of times men make comments on the color of Marian’s skin and how it beautiful it looks as it changes colors when she blushes or her hair or her blue eyes or her breasts, etc. If I really wanted to be nasty, I could say that the author’s own opinions about beauty can be seen by this treatment since the Lladrana are described as “slightly Asian in appearance with dark eyes set in golden-toned skin.” The fact that Marian’s ability to blush shows on her fair skin, has blue eyes and that she has breasts is emphasized as an Exotique trait that is exotic and beautiful is rather offputting to me. Again, puh-lease! Of course, emphasizing the heroine’s beauty is a characteristic of a romance novel but all I know about her is relative. It’s all couched in such glowing terms that you can’t help but be skeptical. Even the most beautiful woman in the world would have some flaw. No one is perfect. Marian apparently has no flaw though except for her perception that she’s PLUMP. Heck, when she gets a gigantic streak of white hair, she’s complimented on it—nothing against white hairs but geez, I would think that you would normally freak out about it even if it’s a good thing to have in Lladrana.
The other reason this book doesn’t work as a romance is Marian’s lack of personality. What the heck is it? All I know is she’s some disaffected scholar in the beginning. She gets laid and the power to do whatever she wants, then she’s happy. This describes EVERYONE. I would totally be happy if I got the power to level cities and got to use it without any consequences to myself. For the entire book, all I see is Marian being lead from one scenario to the other by different characters without much direct action on her part. The big confrontations towards the end of the book are anti-climatic. The big fight scene where people are lost did not impact me because most of the losses were nameless background characters. The one loss that might have affected me quickly got explained away. So yeah, Marian has the personality of a jellyfish. I didn’t learn much about her—her supposed transformation is her magical auras and somehow this translates to everything being better. I didn’t see her solve her problems except with a temporary solution since her supposed self-esteem is solved by having a “hot” man want to have sex with her all the time. That’s just a crutch and forces a dependent relationship rather than a relationship of equals. What the [...], she’s only considered transformed when all the men start fawning over her. No, I don’t like to define self-sufficiency through the approval of others. Plus, it’s pretty sad that the heroine’s has such a great lack of personality that the personality of what is essentially her beefcake male love interest is actually more interesting, by contrast. Not very good.
There were some funny moments in this book though. I laughed out loud when Ms. Owens tries to show Marian’s moral fiber by having her refuse to use her magic over an ocean just because there are creatures in it that might be harmed by her magic—they’re usually fish or aquatic in nature and made to endure anything the ocean throws at them, much less her weather magic. Plus, who’d choose to practice magic over a swatch of ocean with an endangered species? The hamster sidekick was cute (although in retrospect, probably not the most original plot device) and constant references to Marian’s attractiveness and the growing chemistry between her and the love interest are a hoot as well. Perhaps less critical readers will have a much better time with this book. But for me, I was just flipping through and quickly scanning the book and hoping to finally get to the end of it. My resolution to finish all the books that I start really backfired on me with this book.
BTW, I apologize for any possible grammatical and spelling errors. I tried to catch the ones that I did notice but I can’t guarantee a perfect editing job.
Basically, I think if romance fantasies want to be marketed as straight fantasies, then they need to hold their own in that genre. Similarly, if a fantasy wants to advertise itself as a romance, it needs to be able to pass muster with general romance readers as well. It makes me mad though to see romance readers read a romance fantasy and think that it is a good fantasy when frankly, they are not. The other thing of note though is that romance authors do their own worldbuilding if you think about it. It’s just that the basic components of the world is with the two main characters because the hero and heroine are literally in their own world. We experience the world only through them and they are each other’s world. It’s hard to port that over to a fantasy setting because whenever the character building isn’t done well, there’s not enough exterior world building and it helps to further cheapen the whole book.
Generally, I think it’s hard to try to straddle romance and fantasies because of the different attitudes each genre has. I tend to read each genre with a different mindset though sometimes I’m not conscious of it. So I guess, I kind of have double standards since my standards are different for fantasies than they are for romances. Some books that I think do straddle the border nicely though are:
Undead and Unwed by Mary Janice Davidson
Dead Witch Walking by Kim Harrison
The Empress’ New Clothes by Jaid Black (although this is a mix of sci-fi with romance rather than fantasy)
Dead Until Dark by Charlaine Harris
The Harmony series by Jayne Castle (Jayne Ann Krentz’s scifi pseudonym)
But good books that double as romance and fantasy are few and far in between. Usually, they’re either fully romance or fantasy with only romantic or fantastical elements woven in but they wouldn’t really be considered truly cross-genre books in my eyes.
It makes me mad though to see romance readers read a romance fantasy and think that it is a good fantasy when frankly, they are not. - Kainee
Doesn’t that depend on the reader, though? One man’s trash and so on.
But then I tend not to pay much attention to genre, never mind trying to decide where a cross-genre story goes (unless, of course, it suits my purposes when recommending books ;-) ).
Do you think that proportionately speaking more bad Romance novels are written, or that because so many of the damn things are published that it seems that proportionately more of them are bad. There’s some shiteous SF/F out there too, as well as horrific Mystery, etc. - Robin
I wonder if there really more badly written Romance novels or if it seems that way because lately I’ve been reading more Romance books than other genres (except YA). Maybe it’s not that there are more out there, but that I end up reading more of them because I read more Romance (I seem to recall coming across a lot of Mysteries I did not care for, for example, when I went through a Mystery reading phase for a while).
Kainee or anyone else, can you offer a good defition of Fantasy? I understand some of the elements, but I’m least familiar with the expectations associated with Fantasy.
can you offer a good defition of Fantasy?
**head explodes**
Sorry, it’s just that I’ve taken a graduate-level lit course on fantasy, and one of the things we learned in it is that nobody bloody agrees on this.
But that’s from a criticial standpoint. From a marketing standpoint, the inclusion of magic tends to be the defining characteristic of the genre (though the definition of “magic” is then in its own turn fuzzy). Generally this takes place in a setting of a lower technological level than our own, but urban fantasies are in a modern setting, and certain specific works include enough in the way of weird technology that they blur over into science fiction. If the magical elements are mostly things like vampires and werewolves, then it blurs over the boundary into horror. And my understanding is that if you have a romance foundation with magical elements on top, it’s shelved as paranormal romance or what have you; the further it goes toward actually hybridizing those two, the more likely it is to be shelved in either place, or both.
Mind you, there are books out there with plenty of magic in them that aren’t shelved as fantasy (just as there are books with science fictional tropes in them that aren’t shelved as SF), but that has to do with a lot of other factors, including whether the author’s already established as a lit-fic writer.
Now, if you want me to start citing Todorov and Attebery and other, more technical definitions, I’d be happy to—but I figured that wasn’t what you were asking, since most people want a more everyday approach.
Okay, let me try that again, now that I see you’re asking about expectations.
That’s a harder one to address, since it gets into subgenres and the like. The expectations of quest fantasy—the Tolkien-esque stuff many people think of when they hear the word—are pretty well-defined: a humble protagonist (likely of higher birth than they appear) leaves home in the company of a Wise Old Magic Person and acquires various other companions for the purpose of finding and/or destroying some Important Magic Thing and/or stopping the schemes of a Dark Lord, all within the framework of a pretty clear Good/Evil dichotomy. (See Diana Wynne Jones’ Tough Guide to Fantasyland and Dark Lord of Derkholm for a good sendup of this.)
But that’s radically different from what someone would expect from an urban fantasy, where the story is more likely to do with the interaction of human and Other, whether the Other be faeries, vampires, or what have you. Urban fantasies also often promote the power of art, but that may just be Emma Bull’s fault for influencing everybody with War for the Oaks.
The expectation is that (usually) the good guys will win, but there’s a fair bit of leeway for it to be a Pyrrhic victory; somebody major and beloved may die, for instance. Winning often involves killing the bad guy, but not always. And you do get fantasy novels out there that upset this expectation for one reason or another.
Readers also, in general, expect coherent worldbuilding of whatever tech level (no railways if it looks otherwise medieval), a magic system that follows some kind of internal logic, and a plot which operates on a fairly large scale; I’ve read fantasy novels that are very quiet and personal and the effects of the characters’ actions really only matter to the characters themselves, but far more frequently, they have repercussions that will affect a lot of people. (The overthrow of a Dark Lord is an obvious example of this, but a fairly cheesy one that fortunately doesn’t dominate everything.)
That’s probably a better answer than what I wrote a moment ago.
Now, if you want me to start citing Todorov and Attebery and other, more technical definitions, I’d be happy to—but I figured that wasn’t what you were asking, since most people want a more everyday approach.
I’d actually like the technical definitions, Marie. Thanks, this is very interesting! Is a quest intrinsic to the genre, and what’s the role of magic. I thought I read some comment that a Fantasy is supposed to create things impossible in RL—yes?
Hoo. Okay, let me give this a shot.
I don’t like Todorov’s definition at all, but since I brought him up, I might as well explain it. To his way of thinking (which, mind you, was never meant as a descriptor for publishing categories), “the fantastic” as a concept is that hesitation where you don’t know whether something is real or imaginary. If the question gets resolved in either direction, it ceases to be fantastic, and becomes wondrous or ordinary instead.
Darko Suvin (yes, that really is his name) defined science fiction as “the literature of cognitive estrangement” and fantasy (in passing) as having do do with “mythic estrangement,” but I once compared his definition—in an academic paper, no less—to the kid who tries to get into the clique of cool kids by pretending he doesn’t know any of his old friends from elementary school. The stuff he calls SF is that kid; fantasy and 95% of what everybody else calls SF are his old friends; “literature” is the clique. The notion of estrangement isn’t entirely useless, though. Basically, it means that the story causes you to look at familiar things in an alienating way, seeing them as strange. This is definitely one of the effects speculative fiction of any stripe can have.
Attebery’s the one I find useful. He wrote a good piece differentiating between fantasy as mode, genre, and formula. In the “mode” sense, there’s a spectrum between the mimetic (representations that match the world as we know it to be—though you don’t have to think long to notice that we may not all agree on how the world actually works) and the fantastic (representations that don’t match our agreed-upon notions). The most mimetic writing out there is factual reporting; all fiction is at least slightly non-mimetic, since it presents people and events that don’t exist. Fantasy and SF occupy zones further down toward the fantastic end of the spectrum.
Fantasy as “formula,” at the other end, is what I was talking about in a previous comment: a pattern of character and incident that has been repeated a lot (and there’s more than one formula out there). One nice touch is that Attebery recognizes formula is not necessarily a bad thing, no more than the structure of a sonnet is bad.
In between these, he places the “genre” concept of fantasy, which is R
01.21.07 at 02:40 PM |