IN DEFENCE (ONCE AGAIN) OF ROMANCE WRITING

After being on the highest of highs following the American conference, I hit the ground with a thump this week after a thoughtless comment on one of my lists, from a male, I shall call Mr. X,  (no names, no pack drill) that derided both women and romance writers in the single strike of the keyboard (I do miss the swipe of a pen...!). 

You know something?  I am not ashamed to call myself a Romance Writer. I am out and proud. 

I like being around other romance writers. It is my tribe. It is a place where people write happy stories and they tend to be happy people. 


When I wrote my first book I didn't even know I had written "a romance". I had simply written a story -- the sort of story I liked to read with plenty of action, a dashing hero, a strong heroine and, most importantly a happy ever after ending. I didn't know that books had "labels" and if you didn't fit neatly under that label you were condemned to a marginal land where you could never be published. 

What was worse I didn't realise that by adopting one of the labels ("Romance") I would be condemned to a world of the perpetual lip curl.

A friend read my manuscript (written on our primitive computer using good old Word Perfect 5.1), declared it readable and suggested I joined the Romance Writers of Australia because they had contests for stories such as mine. I entered it and that year came second, went to my first conference, learned who Norah Roberts was and a romance writer was born...Only there was a problem, saying I was a romance writer out loud was almost as hard as I imagine it would be saying I was a born again Christian. People looked at me in a strange way (and I learned the lip curl) and I found myself making mumbled excuses and trying to explain my work as "really more historical than romance". 

The facts are there on the Romance Writers of America website for anyone who wishes to read them. If you like statistics...here they are. In short Romance Fiction accounts for $1.36 billion in sales each year - the largest share of the consumer-book market. More than a quarter of all books sold are romance and are read by approximately 75 million people each year. The nearest genre fiction (Mystery) doesn't even come close. If you want an indication of the popularity of romance fiction, here is a photo from the Literacy Signing put on by Romance Writers of America just a few weeks ago... Have I missed the point, but why is writing romance a bad thing...?

Many, many writers  make a good living from writing romance. How many other writers can claim that? 

And you know something -- scratch any book genre, literary or other and I bet you find a relationship at its heart. It may not have a HEA but I'm betting there are two characters in that story who are attracted to each other. Romance is about the fundamental of human needs, relationships. It is about love. It is about overcoming obstacles. Even Mr. X's books have love at their heart (I know because I looked him up). So why did he feel he had  to dismiss a group of women writers just because he considered them "romance writers" and therefore somehow unworthy?

Not your preconception of a romance writer?

In my stint as President of Romance Writers of Australia I came across this attitude often -- mostly from the press. Some cub reporter would be sent to interview me, no doubt imaging Barbara Cartland or worse, a housewife in curlers and slippers (they are UGG boots NOT slippers!). In a bored voice, she (or he) would ask..."And what do you do for your real job"? (Yes...they did say "real" job). When I answered "I'm a lawyer", you could almost hear their eyes widening and their back straightening as their preconceptions of romance writers flew out of the window.

Dear old Babs...she didn't really do us romance writers a lot of favours, but by jingo she sold a lot of books!

So what did I do about Mr. X?  No point entering into a debate with people with those sort of preconceptions. All you can do is politely point out their mistakes of fact and walk away. They will continue to believe what they want to believe or they may think "Perhaps I was wrong?"

AN AUSTRALIAN ABROAD

Toto...I don’t think we’re in Kansas. 

No, Dorothy, we are in a magical kingdom of beautiful princesses, wicked queens and fairy godmothers - the 2012 Romance Writers of America Conference which just happens to be at the Anaheim Marriott - right next door to Disneyland. The 2100 attendees will be jostling with 25,000 librarians who are attending their annual convention at the (enormous) convention centre next door. The romance writers will be at the convention centre at 5.00 pm on Wednesday for the annual Literacy signing (proceeds to charity).

I left a cold, wintry Melbourne (Australia) at 9.35am this morning and arrived at LAX at 7.00 am - two and a half hours before I left. Something about the international date line that just makes my head hurt. I have to say it was a fabulous flight. Not only was the plane not full, but my friend and Harlequin Presents writer Carol Marinelli was on the same flight...not only on the same flight, but on a plane of 480 potential seats, she was seated right next to me. Needless to say we talked non stop for the first 4 hours, slept some and then Carol, whose dedication to her work is an inspiration hit the keyboard and wrote a 1000 words before we landed in LA. Half guiltily I pulled out my computer and edited a chapter and a half of SECRETS IN TIME (just hope my editor is reading this!)

Another miracle, my room at the Anaheim Hilton was ready for me so I was able to unpack and grab a couple of hours sleep before venturing out in search of food. I had forgotten that everything in California is big...and what looked like a gentle stroll to Disney Downtown was a good half hour hike. Pick the Aussie...in a town where everyone is on holiday  and the wardrobe de jour for man, woman and child is shorts and a tee shirt, there I was in long pants, a long sleeve shirt and a decidedly unflattering (but lightweight) hat pulled down to my eyes. Sun...arrgh...I may turn to dust!


Lunch...Trying to find anything that wasn't cheesey, burgery, chocolately, icecream, taco, popcorn or general junk was a challenge. Thank God for a "French cafe" which sold baguettes with my favourite mozarella, tomato and pesto.  Language failed at the cash register. We do both speak English don't we? The ear is not attuned yet and the girl may as well have been mumbling in Kurdish. 


Buy Disney memorabilia...of course and yes, I picked up a couple of little things for my Disney mad smallest nephew and neice's birthdays but  I have a confession to make. I have never been a big Disney fan. Yes, I’m a heretic but Mickey Mouse just didn’t do it for me! That said I would NEVER have missed an episode of the Wonderful World of Disney at 6.00pm on a Sunday (in glorious black and white), but it was always on the off chance it was an “Adventure Land” episode - preferably with a historical bent and a dashing hero like THE SCARECROW OF ROMNEY MARSH or, my first love, the FIGHTING PRINCE OF DONEGAL.  Forget "Cars"...they just don't make good swashbuckling dramas like this any more.

The Fighting Prince of Donegal

Dr. Syn - the Scarecrow of Romney Marsh and his henchpersons

In 1997 we brought our boys (then aged 12 and 9) to Disneyland. It was January and the queues were short (and quite a few of the rides closed for maintenance). We did everything we wanted to do in a day. My memory may be failing me but Disneyland today seems so much bigger. Maybe it had to do a major upgrade to keep up with its grander cousin in Orlando? Still, I remember being able to see the magic castle from the car park. 

And, yes, I did have fun with the boys in 1997 but I have no burning desire to battle the summer crowds to see Disneyland again so it was a long, warm, walk back to the hotel for a quiet afternoon and a catch up with Aussie mates this evening.

The conference proper starts on Wednesday and I will be blogging daily, so join me this week as Ms. Stuart requests the pleasure of your company to join her at the Romance Writers of America Conference.