I am a huge fan of Sally Thorne’s The Hating Game – the book, that is.
It’s one of the best romances I’ve ever read, mostly because it manages to sustain romantic tension from beginning to end – an extremely rare feat, in my experience.
The movie, on the other hand…
I’ve read that Netflix’s Single all the Way is the first gay holiday romance movie. (On Netflix? In the world?? I’m not sure.) Whatever, this is yet another example of Netflix choosing not to push the envelope.
The movie is tepid. There’s nothing here to offend, because there’s basically nothing here at all.
The gays deserve better than this.
I’ve been thinking a lot about my “career” as a writer (it’s probably telling that I put that in quotation marks), probably because I’ve been dipping my toe in some new things this past year — joining RWA, launching a website, submitting my first query to an agent, getting my first rejection, etc.
There are plenty of options for writers today, and so much advice floating around. I’ve found it distressing at times, comparing myself to others who seem to have it all together, and wondering if a socially-anxious, introvert like me has what it takes to find readers.
When I started reading romance novels, oh, more than thirty years ago now, it seemed like they were all M/F stories, told solely from the female point of view.
But, somewhere along the way, readers decided they liked the idea of getting some insight into the male perspective, and the tide turned in favour of dual POV.
Nowadays, depending on the sub-genre you’re working in, either single or dual POV can be acceptable. I’d say the vast majority of romances are written from dual perspectives, but that doesn’t mean single POV is dead.
So, if anything goes, how do writers choose which approach to use? What are the advantages and disadvantages of each? And, is dual POV actually better than single POV??
As a romance writer, I’ve always felt a bit affronted that there are so many other meanings and uses for the words ‘romance’ and ‘romantic’.
I know, I know. Word meanings evolve over time, and it’s perfectly natural that there are multiple meanings.
But, still!
(That’s the best argument I can think of.)
Anyway, despite my misgivings, I was curious about how the meaning of ‘romance’ evolved, so I did a little research…
Lately, I’ve noticed a lot of romance novels marketed by their primary trope, like:
I can’t decide if I think this is brilliant marketing or a terrible shame.
I loved books, as a kid. The first book I remember loving was The Robber’s Daughter by Astrid Lindgren. After I read it and we returned it, whenever we visited the library, I would walk by the shelf where it was housed, feeling like it was this special, secret gem, this thing no one else knew about or understood.
I felt the same way about the Harper Hall books by Anne McCaffrey. I was fairly young when I read them (maybe grade 5), and to me they were these fantastical things.
That love is what planted the writing seed for me. I wanted to write something that made people feel that way.
Read more…
When I was growing up, my mother read romance novels. There were often piles of them lying around the house — mostly Harlequin Presents or Harlequin Superromance, but you could find the occasional single-title, Silhouette Special Edition, or Harlequin Desire.
I’ve always kind of wondered how she had the budget for it, since my father was in charge of the money and he could be a bit ‘tight-pursed’. (Is there a polite way of saying that?) But I guess romance novels are easy to hide on a grocery bill.
I, too, loved to read — maybe in part from her example. And around age ten, I got really into the Sweet Valley High series. Everyone was reading them. Gorgeous, blonde, blue-green-eyed, Californian identical twin sixteen-year olds (with perfect size-six figures!), getting into adventures?
Who can’t relate?
Read More…