Are we as women really that TSTL?

Good morning!

One of my favorite guilty pleasures is a radio bit on Thursday afternoons called "Who's Getting Blown Off?"

This is one of these deals where a person, typically a woman, calls the radio station and asks them to call another person, typically a man, to find out why he hasn't called her back after a great first date.   It's great listening for a person like me who's been out of the dating scene for nearly three decades (if, that is, I was ever in it) because I listen to what these women do on first dates and then I listen to the guys' reason for never wanting to contact them again and I realize something: 

Women, I'm starting to think that we are breeding a gender that is simply TOO STUPID TO LIVE.

"TSTL" is a term authors, especially romance authors, use to describe a character that does something so incredibly stupid, they shouldn't be allowed to live.  Authors are not allowed to write a character, especially a FEMALE character that is TSTL.  For example, we aren't allowed to write a female character who gets pregnant out of wedlock because she didn't use birth control of some kind.  Birth control must be given a nod in all love scenes.  Getting swept away in the moment and then winding up pregnant is decidedly a TSTL trait. While it may happen in real life, we authors aren't allowed to write a heroine who does that.  A heroine can wind up pregnant, but there has to be some reason behind it that doesn't involve forgetting to take proper measures.

Today's romance heroine is not allowed to rely on a man to rescue her.  Nope, she's gotta figure it out for herself.  Oh, sure, the man can be there to help  (check out my next post where I ask the question:  "Have we marginalized romantic heroes right out of our books?")  but today's romance heroine needs to be in control and if she's not, she's got to figure out how to get in control. And that's fine.  It's okay for women to know what we want and if we have to get to that point without a man helping us, we have that opportunity.  But in romance novels women have to reach their goals with some sense of decorum, morality, and class.  Otherwise, who wants to read about her?  

The woman on yesterday's edition of "Who's Getting Blown Off?" was definitely NOT romance heroine material.  This young lady spoke glowingly of a romantic dinner at a sushi place where she and said date partook of far too much saki.  After the saki, they decided to go back to his place where she had sex with him and spent the whole night and then had to do the walk of shame the next morning.

All this she revealed on a very popular radio station.  Without any hint of embarrassment.  She thought it was the best date ever.  And she could not figure out why on earth her knight in shining armor wasn't texting her back.

So the radio station called said gallant.

Mr. Gallant answered a few innocuous questions and then the radio guy got to the meat of the call.  Mr. Gallant paused for a moment and then said, "Would you want to date a wooly mammoth?"

This was not the response the radio guy was expecting, and apparently not what our pristine princess on the other line expected either.  After a few more questions, the radio guy managed to get the romantic hero to reveal that he wasn't calling our damsel back because, and I'm not making this up, she hadn't groomed her lady parts enough for his liking.

This got a loud, fairly guttural protest from our dainty lady.  What then followed was a five minute argument between these two lovers about who was more stupid:  The man, for expecting his lady on the first date to be perfectly groomed for his love or the woman, for not grooming completely in preparation for a first date.

The woman then, THEN, said she was embarrassed.  Oh, I can see where having to tell everyone you didn't trim your lady bits for a first date because your roommate used all your razors is a bit mortifying.  How about admitting to the world that you gave it all away on a first date because you drank a gallon of saki and you didn't have to pretend to laugh at the guy's jokes?  You're embarrassed that a guy you slept with on the first date told the world you don't snip and trim your bikini area enough to please him?  That's what makes you blush?

We as women have spent generations trying to prove we are equal.  We've made a bit deal about opening our own car doors, about picking up the check, and about working at the same jobs men do.  And, in our romantic lives, we feel we can be as randy as any man.  It's an equal world, right?

No.  All that's gotten us over the years is now we have to work harder, we have to pay for more stuff, and we have to open our own doors.  Oh, and we have to do it in high heels, with make up, being thinner and younger looking than men, and we still have to have babies.  And now, this blushing bloom of delicate womanhood is in an argument with her love about whether or not she's date worthy because she didn't take the time to groom every inch of herself.  FOR A FIRST DATE!

She did launch one attempt at a good argument...she said, "Hey, you weren't any better groomed down there."

His response said it all:  "Men don't have to groom down there."

They continued to argue that point, clearly both of them have slept with enough people to have a good cross section sample of the population, but I got lost in the idea that this was a topic of conversation.

I go back to the novels of Jane Austen, Margaret Mitchell, and Emily Bronte.  Would Mr. Darcy have breathed one word about Miss Bennett's female parts?  NO!  Did Heathcliff, arguably literature's most evil hero, chide Catherine ONCE for not shaving?  NO?  Did Rhett Butler leave Scarlett O'Hara  (possibly literature's strongest feminist) because she was a touch fuzzy?  NO!

Why not?  Because, as female authors writing female characters in books women were going to read, these authors wanted their heroines to be someone women aspired to be.  They wanted the heroes to be men of class, men who were heroic in one way or another.  They wanted their men to be men we'd fall in love with.  And we have.  These books are part of the foundation upon which romance novels are built. 

Real men are awkward, thoughtless and clueless, this we know.  It's why we write and read romance novels, especially historical romances, because in romance novels men talk to us the way we want to be talked to.  Men buy

flowers, men cry, but men are strong, men fight battles in our names, men ride off on horses, willing to risk their lives for us and all we have to do is give them a hanky or a hair ribbon.

But ladies, really.  Have we become so shameless, so into being whatever we want to be that we as a gender are willing to give up all femininity to argue ON A RADIO STATION about whether or not our genitals need to be groomed for a first date?  If we're truly willing to go to that point, and we have NO IDEA why men won't call us back, then we are truly, truly TSTL.

You are beautiful...

Good evening!

I'm feeling a touch under the weather, which is typical for me on the eve of the WisRWA conference. I always get so wound up that I wind up making myself a little ill. This year, in addition to seeing a lot of my writer friends, and learning a lot and PITCHING "Lies in Chance" to a couple of agents, I'm doing my first ever real life book signing! If you're in the Brookfield, WI area (Just west of Milwaukee) on Saturday, come on down to the Brookfield Suites and Hotel Conference center. I'll be selling and signing books along with several of my fellow authors. All proceeds go to literacy programs in the Milwaukee area, so you're supporting a great cause. Book signing is from 5 Pm to 6PM, but books will be sold all day Saturday. Address is 1200 S. Moorland Rd., Brookfield. 53005

There. Business out of the way.

Last week I met a couple of really, really spectacular ladies. I won't name them by name, they know who they are. Let's call them...Tina and Faye. (Just because.) Faye managed to get me an autograph from Rick Springfield. And then Faye took a picture of me holding said autograph. I was grinning from ear to ear. I believe, before I saw the picture, I said, "Well, that's the definition of GLEE."

And then I saw the picture.

Blech.

I hate pictures of myself. I've gained several dozen pounds over the years and most of them landed in my face. I pretty much look like my Dad with earrings. A decent look for a guy. Not for a girl. I'm all chin and neck. And I hate it. Seeing myself in that picture, no matter how joyful I was at the moment it was taken, depressed me.

Later that weekend, Tina, who is a lovely, thin, young woman (She recently lost a significant amount of weight) was telling me that she doesn't get noticed because she's the fat girl. I was stunned. Here was this beautiful lady (seriously, beautiful dark hair, delicate features, great smile) telling me that she doesnt' get noticed because she's fat. Egads.

I tried to tell her she was pretty, blah, blah blah, all the stuff we tell our friends when they feel down about themselves. It never works.

Here's why: We think of ourselves in one way. In my head I look like I did right after Boy Child was born. Somewhat rounded, but young and energetic, and thin enough to shop in the regular part of the store. When I see myself in pictures, I do not see what others do...a fun, confident woman who is a little heavy, but cheerful, fun, and always on the go. What I see when I look at myself in pictures is a fat, tired, loser who is faking it.

And I think that is the same for Tina. What was an eye opener for me is that I was seeing her in such a completely different way from how she saw herself. And I realized that society has put so much crap on the shoulders of women, we've lost who we really are.

In the quest to have it all, job, family, whatever, we women have lost our own reflections. We think of ourselves one way, we see ourselves another, and what we really look like to others is a completely different thing. (Gee, thanks Gloria Steinem. Now not only do I have to open the door myself, and pick up the check, and work full time, AND RAISE A FAMILY in the same amount of time my grandmother had to do half the crap I have to do, now I have to be perfect while doing it. Thanks. Feminism has really worked out well.)

It's no wonder eating disorders on both ends of the scale run rampant among women. Our body image SUCKS because we've got everyone howling at us to be thin...be perfect...be beautiful...

Well screw that.

To Tina, my new friend, I say, girl, you are beautiful. One day you will see yourself as those around you see you. Right now you still see yourself as that shy, slightly overweight lady. But someday you'll see that the outside of you is just as beautiful and perfect as the inside.

To Faye, I say, Thank you for that autograph. Because I have it and I have the picture of me and I can see true joy in my eyes. I have to focus on that joy as I work towards a healthier me.

In the meantime, to the society that is making half our girls fat and half our girls deathly thin I say, screw you. We are who we are. We are mothers, we are daughters. We work, we study, we play, we sing, we dance, and we are f+++ing beautiful.

And if that's not enough for you, that's your problem.

Want the rest of my manifesto? Listen to Rick Springfield's song "Perfect." It's a primal scream that every overweight woman, every scared little girl, every person who's ever not been perfect enough for those around them can howl into the air.

But to me, my friends, you are all beautiful...