Smart Bitches Trashy Books | All of the romance, none of the bullshit.

Update! Alison Kent has the full text for the survey typed out on her blog. Go, read! (If you haven’t already.) I didn’t think it was possible, but the full text is even more retarded than I thought it would be.

I just checked out Monica Jackson’s blog and she noted that this month’s RWR has the following items on a ballot:

A. The romantic relationship is between one man and one woman
B. The romantic relationship is between two people.

I’m not sure what the question is, but from the looks of it, it seems as if it’s part of the ongoing attempt to re-define romance novels.

I agree with Monica: I’d be just as offended if the two items had been presented as “between a white man and a white woman” and “between two people.”

This is RETARDED. So retarded, that.... Ugh. No words to express the retardedness. Sorry.

Furthermore, I don’t see why it has to be restricted to only two people, either. Is a loving relationship only possible between two people? A bunch of polyamorous couples would probably beg to differ. This seems to be a tactic to exclude yet again the people who choose to write love stories that involve threesomes or more, like Emma Holly and various authors of erotic romance.

Some people would probably say “Those stories are erotica. They aren’t romance!” Well, what if somebody writes a story about two boys and a girl who fall in love, but doesn’t spend much time in the bedroom with them and instead focuses on other aspects of being in a threesome? It’s not erotica because it doesn’t focus on the sexual aspects, but apparently it’s not a romantic story either because it involves more than two people.

Now, mind you, what I’m talking about here isn’t cheating. I don’t find cheating particularly romantic because it involves lying and breaking somebody’s trust. Polyamory involves the knowing consent of ALL parties.

I also find it ironic that threesomes involving consenting adults are not romantic, but the hero raping the heroine (usually because he’s pissed off at her and wants to teach her a lesson, or because he mistakes her for a prostitute or a slut) is a-OK. Personally, I think that’s one of the least romantic scenarios, and the thought of the heroine falling in love with her rapist squicks me to no end, as does the idea of a rapist getting an HEA. But hey, this type of romance turns a lot of people’s cranks, and I’d never dream about coming up with a ballot that said:

A. The romantic relationship is between one man and one woman, both of whom engage only in consensual sex
B. The romantic relationship is between one man and one woman, consensual sex optional.

Anyway, I guess love stories apparently have to be all about strict monogamy, preferably between hetero couples. I’d love to see the SFWA attempt to define SF in as restrictive a manner: “Story must take place in outer space, in a time when superluminal travel is possible.”

Addendum: Whoops, can’t believe I forgot this golden opportunity to pimp the Romantic Bitches Association! Anyway, tired of exclusionary dipshits? Check us out. We’re fun, we’re open to readers and reviewers (not just authors), and we promise not to define “romance” in inexplicably narrow and asshatted ways. In short: we rock! Or we will rock--we’re still in the very, very early stages and are in the process of deciding on mission statements, dues, an appropriate logo and tagline, designing the website, etc. But sign up for the mailing list, and we’ll keep you updated on what’s happening with us.

Love,

Vice President of Vices Candy

Check out the manly stud in the first letter in today’s Dear Abby.

Wow. Whatta man. Makes me want to read more romance novels.

HelenKay pointed out today that chick lit is being blamed for all sorts of ills. Now, mind you, the few chick lit books I’ve read have annoyed me (for which I got lots of flack), but I certainly don’t think they’re destroying all that is good and right with civilization.

Few things annoy me more than some self-righteous douche trying to blame some undesirable social aspect or another on fiction. In the case of so-called feminists who get their panties in a massive wad about the pernicious influence of chick lit or romance novels, I feel the overwhelming urge to shake them while bellowing “HOW STUPID AND IMPRESSIONABLE DO YOU THINK WOMEN ARE, YA CONDESCENDING ASSMUNCH?” I mean, please. For people who are supposedly all rah-rah women’s rights, we deserve equal treatment and equal respect yadda yadda yadda, they have a pretty low opinion of the average woman’s ability to think, reason and distinguish reality from make-believe. But THEY’RE not average, of course. They’re brilliant, and are able to discern which works are dangerous to our impressionable little minds and which ones aren’t.

If this sort of attitude sounds suspiciously similar to the asshats ranting and raving about how dangerous Rainbow Party is to children and how reading about teenagers engaging in oral sex will turn 13-year-old Joanna into a godless, ravening whore who constantly craves hot, hard cock, that’s because it is.

So the two articles HelenKay links to are pretty interesting, but the one that really got my hackles up was the Nerve.com article Monica Jackson linked to a while ago. Alas, the article is now subscription-only, but thanks to the magic of Google’s caching technology, the article can still be viewed in its entirety here, though there are no guarantees how long the cached page will remain. Anyway, I’d forgotten about it, then reading HelenKay’s article reminded me, and re-reading it--gah gah gaaaaaaaah I can’t even express to you MUCH this self-righteous douche annoys me.

Let’s start with some choice quotes, shall we?

Kate Rothwell has a totally bitchin’ contest that you should enter. If you don’t participate, she has a list of threats, and I have no doubt--NO DOUBT--that she will have no trouble carrying out all of them in the inimitable ruthless Rothwell fashion.

So please. Think of the doughnut, and those lonely Bosnia socks.

Queens, Princesses, Duchesses, Marchionesses, Countesses, Viscountesses and Baronesses, and members of the Court of Bitchery, We have a Winner in the haiku contest!

In a stunning and slightly amusing tie, PC Cast and her Phabulous Daughter have won the haiku contest, garnering equal numbers of votes for their haikus, number #4 and #5:

Ode to Mantittyfruit

4.
Succulent, firm flesh
Manfruit waiting to be plucked
Nipple dew…so sweet

5.
Hair on man titties?
Nay! (gasp) Abomination!
My Dear Sweet Lord – WAX.

So without further ado, we hereby crown PC Cast and her daughter:

We also had a number of honorable mention votes for E. D’Trix’s #11 and #12, so congratulations on fine efforts as well. We seem to all be suckers for anything that makes the baby Jesus cry.