Okay, so I’m not playing the Writing 101 game anymore 😦
I’m trying desperately hard to reach the 50,000 words for JuNoWriMo but haven’t actually written anything since Sunday. 😦
I finished another Lisa Kleypas novel! Honestly, I can’t help myself. She’s a terrific storyteller, and I adore all of her characters. Manly but with plenty of charm and flaw. Still, this isn’t helping to expand my repertoire or knowledge of all things romance novel. Even if I don’t care for someone else’s style, I should be reading a variety of things from author’s I’ve never heard of before in order to gain better perspective about me and my style. I don’t, though. 😦
When I got home from the library yesterday, I discovered that YET AGAIN I’ve checked out a series novel – the fourth installment in a series of four — and now had nothing to read before bed last night. So today, I had to go back to the library, return book four, and then seek and find and check out the first one. 😦
I still don’t like poorly written, grammar-trashed anything. I still won’t apologize for this mindset, either. I spent the past few days (my brother is here again, and his loud, constantly talking isn’t conducive to writing romance) so I searched and downloaded a lot of free or excerpted material and scanned it for content. Nothing captured my imagination or made me want to read more – and a good portion (90% maybe) I didn’t read beyond the first, few sentences because of that dumbness I mentioned at the start of this paragraph. 😦
YA, werewolves, and dystopian society still don’t interest me, either.
I’m making every effort to cringe my way through trash novels, though! I’ve often heard that ALL romance novels are trash novels, and I take umbrage with that statement for obvious reasons. It isn’t trash unless the author makes it trashy. And, by trashy, we’re talking whips, chains, leather, smut, an element of gore, tons of role-play, and the author generally writing out her deepest, darkest fantasies for the whole world to read and comprehend. THAT is trashy. Others would describe it as being anything to do with sex.
Excuse me, but, Jane Austen wrote romance novels. Pushkin wrote one of the greatest romance novels I’ve ever read, too. No one seems to make the connection, though. Just because the genre sticks to guy & girl duke it out for the duration until happily ever after arrives doesn’t make the work itself useless, contrived, or not worth taking the time to read.
People who put down romance novels — especially those who’ve never read any — are making broad-based assumption and usually based on what they’ve heard, or from that one, bad experience back in high school that sent them running from another romance novel, ever. Sex is something that is inevitable in a romance novel, but the book itself isn’t written around or concentrated entirely on that act.
They are stories just like any other genre, with people in them who live work-a-day lives and do things outside the bedroom a majority of the time. That time is usually spent getting to know the other person, wondering how best to approach, and then having to deal with other aspects of their lives while also trying to start a lasting relationship that leads to something of substance. Some have a mystery tossed in for effect and others might involve elements of suspense, mayhem, or science fiction. To say that the entire novel revolves around love, the couple, their bedside manner, and all things private is a bit much.
Brother went back home, the violent weather blew through overnight, taking with it the heat and humidity (though I enjoyed those two days of sweltering in the low 90’s, thank you very much), I have my first of four novels by my favorite author to look forward to reading before bed tonight, and with the house quiet once more, I’m going to dive back into this latest manuscript and see if I can’t knock out another 10 or even 20,000 words today 🙂