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.

The Olympics and Romance Novels...pathways to peace?

Good evening!

I have been, since I was a small child, a huge fan of the Olympics.  My parents, of course very Pro American, taught me the importance of cheering for my home team, but as I look back my favorite Olympian of all time was Soviet Olga Korbut.  Gymnastics were the cornerstone of American Olympic coverage back in the 70's, but the USA was not even close to competing with the Soviet Union, or other Communist nations.

It didn't matter to me.  I loved Olga.  She was my hero.  I wept the year Nadia scored all tens  and Olga seemed...not as good.  But Nadia was also from a Communist nation and to a little girl growing up in Michigan in the 70's, these girls, these gymnasts, they were supposed to be "the enemy."

Right?

Not to me.

My mother has a favorite Olympic moment as well.  It's from the Winter Olympics, although the moment in question from from the World Championship in 1973.  Irina Rodnina and Alexandr Zaytsev, the famed Soviet pair, skated brilliantly...even after their music track broke.  They continued skating and won the championship, all without music.

My mom told me it was like playing piano, and not hearing any music, but playing the notes anyway.



Still, they were Soviets.  The enemies.  Right?

Not for a moment.

One of my very favorite moments of all times in the Olympics was a tiny little figure skating moment in 1988.  Midori Ito, a Japanese girl no one in the US had even heard of, stole the show in the short program.  She didn't medal...it didn't matter.  I still tear up when I see the recording of that girl from a land far away from my own, skating with joy, excelling beyond any one's wildest expectations.

Hey, she's not American...why would I care about her?  What about all the great American skaters?

None of them moved me to tears.

Such is the magic of the Olympics.  For 17 days we, the inhabitants of the world, find ourselves, yes cheering for our own countries, but we will fall in love with and cheer for those of other countries, and those from countries with whom our own country might even be at war.  Politics fade away, or should, though it is an imperfect world, and politics have played a roll in the Olympics time and time again.

But for this moment, we strive for what can be.  We hear the stories about athletes from countries we may not have known even existed.  We cheer for names we won't remember a month from now.  And we don't care about what flag the athlete competes under.  We cheer for the hero, the underdog, the surprise.  We love a happy ending, no matter which flag is raised to the rafters.

How do I connect this to romance novels?  I'm getting there.

See, while all other publishing is selling fewer and fewer units and making smaller and smaller margins, romance novels thrive.  Why?  Because women typically read more than men?

Far more likely to bring
world peace than, say,
"Mein Kampf."

Maybe.

Because they are easy to read, fluffy, non taxing?

Possibly, but let's not get insulting.

Because in a time of political, economic, social turmoil, it's nice to cheer for the underdog, the hero, the surprise, and have a happy ending.  And if that underdog is a plucky woman in dire straights and the hero just happens to be handsome, who cares? 

If more of us read things and watched things that made us happy, made us feel peaceful, made us see how much good there is in the world, maybe there would be even MORE good in the world.

It's hard to go to war, I think, with a country once you've cheered your lungs out for their swim team or their gymnasts, or their cyclists.

It's hard to feel rage at the world when you've read a book that's filled you with the joy and possibility of love and a happy ending.

So over the next two weeks, lets absorb the sights and the sounds and the culture of the Olympics.  And after, how about if we all pick up a romance novel, and just read it. 

You could start with one my mine...I'm just sayin'!

What point is there to romantic fiction?

Good afternoon!


There's a lot of awful stuff going on in this world.  Today, news of a horrible earthquake and tsunami in the Pacific is reminding us all that life is a fragile gift.  When you hear news like that, about people injured and killed, about homes lost, all you want to do is help.

It's the same any time some sort of horrible disaster happens.  We all want to help out in some way.  So we donate food, money, we take some time off of work and go to the disaster site and help there.  We conserve energy, we donate old eye glasses, we help old ladies cross the street.  We want to help.

I don't know about you, but sometimes, for me, it just doesn't seem like enough.  Some days I look at my life and I feel like I'm not doing enough.  Some days I think I need to do more.

It's the same with writers.  There are writers who change the world with their words.  There are writers who start or end revolutions.  And then there are those who write romantic fiction...like me.

In a world like ours, some might think, what's the point to writing romantic fiction?

Sometimes, my friends, when everything seems dark and angry, curling up with a story about love conquering all and a happy ending is exactly what you need most. 

Think I'm crazy?  Think about this:  General fiction and non fiction book sales have dropped every year for the last three years.  Sales of romantic fiction, most notably, romance novels, has risen. 

Friends, do not think of romantic fiction as your mother's "bodice rippers" that she hid under the bed. What we're talking about here are modern day fairy tales.  Good versus evil. with good winning.  Love conquers all.  A handsome hero and a beautiful heroine.  A love scene, some drama, a little humor and happily ever after.

I'm not saying reading romantic fiction will heal the world's ills.  But maybe if more people picked up a copy of "Dream in Color" and spent some time with Ramona, Neil, and Jesse, maybe they'd smile a little more.  Maybe if more people read a romance novel once in a while, they wouldn't be so cranky, and so apt to yell at someone, or, dare I hope it, to shoot at someone.

There is a point to romantic fiction, my friends.  That point is joy...and peace;  simple things for complicated times.

Well, that and a good love scene!