Cliche Critics

I meant to post this a week ago, but I got so aggravated that I had to walk away for a while. Yes, even mild-mannered romance comic editors get testy. So, what was the problem? I went to this really annoying web site called BeaucoupKevin (dot)com on which a romance comic story entitled “I Don’t Love You Anymore” from 1972 (published by DC Comics in Falling In Love) was held up to scorn as “the worst romance comic I've ever come across.” Pretty harsh criticism and I thought it was quite unfair. [Quick-and-dirty synopsis: Girl leaves town on a visit to her cousin, promising to be faithful to her longtime boyfriend. Girl goes on group dates with her cousin, the cousin’s fiance, and the fiance’s brother. Girl discovers she has fallen in love with the new guy, and they admit their feelings to each other. Girl goes home, miserable at having to tell her old boyfriend that he’s history. Girl discovers that while she was away, her boyfriend met a new girl and has realized his feelings have changed too! Girl reassures him that no one is to blame.] Romance comics written 35 years ago were aimed at teenagers. This story was a fable illustrating that typical parental warning, “You will grow out of these feelings.” Regardless of when sexual activity begins, in our culture there is considerable maturing to do all through the teenage years and beyond them into the twenties. Paul Anka had a hit pop song about “Puppy Love.” What parents told their kids about puppy love 35 years ago is still true: “These feelings will pass. You need to date other people. You’ll grow out of each other.” Well, Romeo and Juliet being the big exception—but that’s because they killed themselves rather than stick around and change their minds. The theme of this comic book tale is well-intentioned and sensible: First loves, especially teenage loves, can fade, and that fading can occur mutually. It’s convenient that while the heroine is experiencing the headiness of freedom, the hero is doing the same. Thus both partners are done with the relationship at exactly the same time, leaving neither one to feel let down or guilty. In real life it probably doesn’t work that neatly. But this is romance, where the happy ending is important. Okay, I admit it’s not the best comic book romance story I’ve ever read. Yes, the dialogue is cliche-ridden and generally atrocious. Inker Vinnie Colletta butchered the art as usual. But as I was explaining to the Representative of the Opposite Sex who lives with me, it isn’t that the heroine deliberately dates another guy. She’s thrust into a pairs situation in the social context of the visit. And to her shock and dismay, she finds that she develops romantic feelings for this new guy. Despite his god-awful cliche chitchat. Why then did my Somewhat Significant Other think this was a bad story? Because he thought that even group socializing (basically, double dating) with her cousin’s fiance’s brother was a betrayal of the hometown boyfriend. I disagree, because this story is taking place in an old-fashioned social landscape in which men and women did not mix much except through overt social occasions such as dating, dances, and parties. Thus, opportunities to meet new people were rigidly defined. As for the web site guy’s low opinion of this story, I’m not so sure he even likes romance or has any understanding of it. His comments were in the form of a ha-ha quiz. He used a vulgar term for lovemaking that suggests he does not have the romance sensibility. At least two men who read this story did not like it. Sorry, but when it comes to romance stories aimed at a female audience, I am not inclined to give men equal voting rights. Yes, the dialogue is cliche. But this kind of dialogue is symbolic. The words are not meant to show individual personality. They are meant to explain a situation in the fewest sentences possible. No twists or turns of distinct personality are included, because this heroine is Every Girl, not a specific girl. In a seven page story, it’s pretty hard to turn her into someone unique, and the writer does not even try. The same goes for her new lover, who frankly has nothing to say of any interest, and all of it trite. This guy is merely the New Guy. There’s nothing distinctive about him. And suddenly, this girl who has had a settled dating relationship for five whole years is shocked to discover that she can fall for a new man. Hmm...maybe that’s what my tiny sample of male critics didn’t like. The heroine of this story falls out of love and pays no consequences. She does experience some angst, but she does not even have to confess her change of heart. He old boyfriend confesses his own first. How convenient for her. Anyway, I’ve had a few days to cool off and be more moderate about my total rejection of the criticism of this romance comic story. I even dropped the word “stupid” from my description of what the male critics said. Mature of me. At least I didn't claim that was "the worst blog I've ever visited."

Outlines versus Daydreams

I’ve been doing some considering lately about what an outline is. This is because some of our hopeful writers who send submissions seem extremely puzzled when we ask to see an outline before we okay writing a script. The distinctive difference between writing for other people and writing just for yourself is that for other people, you need substance. Specifically, you need a plot. Think about it. When you buy a book in a bookstore, you expect there to be a plot. A beginning to the story, a middle, and an end. But I have had submissions that are only beginnings. Or that do not have middles. Or that do not have endings. How can this be, you wonder? Well, a lot of romance readers have certain scenes that they daydream about. These are take-offs of scenes from novels they have read. Kind of like answer songs in music. They often happen when the reader believes that the author should not have sent the story in a certain direction so the reader rewrites the story in her own head. Or when the book is over but the reader wants it to continue. Often, these imaginary scenes are grandstanding martyrdom scenes. I’ve always believed that the core of Iris Johansen’s early success with readers was based on her predilection for writing exactly such scenes: The hard-done-by heroine bravely suffers kind of moment. Of course Johansen wrote her manuscripts at a professional level, which is why they got published. But they frequently contained these kinds of scenes. So, the reader, frustrated by the uncooperative writer who insists on sending her story one way or even ending it, imagines a scene in her head. Some of these readers have gone on to write entire Star Trek or Star Wars stories, sheerly for the pleasure of continuing contact with characters someone else has invented. That’s fan fiction. And at least these people have written entire stories. But other would-be writers don’t quite make it far enough to have written an entire story about Han Solo and Leia Organa. Instead, they dream up a few scenes or maybe just one scene. And then they think that these few scenes constitute a complete story. This is the reason that editors demand to see an outline or synopsis. An outline tells what happens, step by step, citing the facts and the motivations for each event as it occurs. So does a synopsis. In my mind they are interchangeable, but a writer friend just told me he thinks that an outline is written before the story is written, whereas a synopsis is written after it has been written. Do you see any difference in the final product? Neither do I, but I’ll accept that for some people there is a distinction between the two. Back to the would-be writer who has this great scene in her mind. I have actually had people describe such scenes to me and expect to sell the story based on having just one scene. But they don’t know what happens next to their characters. They have no plot. Maybe they figure that it’ll all take care of itself. In a blog I read today, Fun with Slush #4, another editor was complaining about the laziness of people who send this kind of partial submission. So it’s not just in the romance world that would-be writers think they only have to have a part of an idea, and someone else will deal with the rest. Years ago, a friend who was working for a classy hardcover publisher shared with me the snotty note a rejected author had sent the publisher: This lady was indignant, saying that there was a good story in her manuscript and all the editor had to do was find it. Not so. It is the writer’s responsibility to write a complete story. Writing is work. The mere fact that we all use words every day does not make any of us writers. Just as the mere fact that we all eat each day does not make us cordon bleu chefs. So if you have what you think is a good story idea, do the work. Develop it. Create the actions and connections that turn dramatic scenes into parts of a complete tale. Not just parts. The proof that you have done your thinking work as a writer is an outline (or synopsis) that has a beginning, a middle, and an end. And that all hangs together and makes sense. In the case of MyRomanceStory.com, the outline absolutely must have romantic moments. Modern romance is about touching and kissing and making love. If you can’t imagine more than a courtroom scene in which your hard-done-by heroine proves that her baby really is the hero’s, you haven’t written a romance. If your story consists only of snappy banter, you haven’t written a romance. If your hero and heroine never have a reason to kiss, you haven’t written a romance. I love romances. I even love hard-done-by, nobly suffering heroines. Write that story in its entirety, and I’ll be happy to read it. But please, send me an outline first.

Valentine’s Day Part II: Being Romantic

So, was I too harsh on women in my rant against Valentine’s Day? Oh, probably. We’re not all spoiled princesses. Far from it. Many of us don’t want lavish gifts. We just wish the men in our lives would show a little open affection occasionally. That’s because many of us are married to or involved with men who have been socialized into believing that saying “I love you” or giving romantic gifts or making romantic gestures is entirely “girl stuff” they don’t have to do. But romance is not girl stuff. It’s not just what women want. It’s what a love relationship should have at the core. Romance is adventure. Romance is surprise. Romance is also passion, tenderness, and a bunch of other good things too numerous to mention. In romantic fiction, when the hero gives the heroine flowers, she often says that no one has ever given her flowers before. Thus this gift tells her she is special to him. In real life, there are many women who have never received a gift of flowers. It’s such a simple gift, too. You call or visit the florist, describe the style of arrangement you want or get them to choose for you, decide how much you want to pay, give your sweetheart’s contact info, and the rest is taken care of. They can be delivered the same day. Sometimes within an hour or two. (But not on Valentine’s Day. It’s their busiest day of the year, so don’t walk in last minute and expect delivery by lunchtime.) Plus, you can do all this on the internet without even leaving your computer. Yet, still, some women have never received a romantic gift of flowers. Now, here I have to boast. I am married to Mr. Romance. Over the years, he has sent me or brought me so many flowers that I cannot even remember them all. But I do remember the love with which they were given. Were these flowers received on Valentine’s Day? Nope. They arrived at random moments, always a surprise. Like one day when I was working in a large downtown office. The receptionist called me to the front desk, where a magnificent arrangement of extremely exotic flowers awaited me. I took them back to my office, fielding admiring comments all the way. Everybody kept asking me what the occasion was. And the delightful truth—there was no occasion—was that he sent them just to say “I love you!” You can’t get much more romantic than that. He had sent me a public avowal of love, with a private note on the attached card that I would keep the rest of my life. This kind of surprising romantic gesture is exactly what most women are looking for—a sign that the man values their relationship as much as she does and is willing to let the world know. It doesn’t have to be flowers, of course. It can be anything. One time, he sent me a singing telegram! Honestly, I didn’t know where to look as the young actor belted out a song personalized with my name in it, in front of me and my co-workers. I was embarrassed. I was pleased. I never afterwards had to think “Why doesn’t he ever do anything romantic?” But while many women wait in vain for romantic gestures, if you are the lucky recipient of them, you have to be equally creative. That put some pressure on me, because I wasn’t much of a gift-giver. I had to learn to be one, to respond appropriately to the level of attention my sweetheart was giving our relationship. And I’ll admit it, it took me a while. I coasted, enjoying the gifts without bothering to respond to the same degree. Then, after another of my trite gifts on official holidays was received, I saw the disappointment I was really giving. My lover thought about me so much that he dreamed up unusual and wonderful gifts. Didn’t he deserve the same amount of thought and care from me? Thus I began to understand how difficult it is for men who have never given romantic gifts to think about doing so. And then to follow through and actually do it. And then to keep doing it over a number of years, because obviously one gift of this type is not enough for a lifetime. It is not easy to think in a new pattern. Only loving someone can make you willing to improve, to “be a better man” as Jack Nicholson’s character says in the movie “As Good As It Gets.” But becoming a better person in this one area of your life is not impossible. It merely requires making an effort. A lot of men hope that they don’t have to make an effort to show love. When it doesn’t come naturally to them, they want to skip it. What they don’t realize is that they ought to grow enough to make such gestures. Because the women they love are worth it. And the women need it. On the receiving side, I was lucky, because I received so many tokens of love that I never wondered if my man would ever do something nice just for me. He also constantly told me that he loved me. That goes a long way to making a relationship secure. But I had to learn to be a giver. Some men never learn this lesson of love. No matter how many thoughtful, loving gifts their loved ones surprise them with, these men do not respond with a matching level of thought or care. Some men are arrogant and think they do not have to. Others are bewildered and don’t know how. Others are embarrassed. Yes, embarrassed. Oh, they’re willing enough to have sex, even to marry. But that can always be excused to other men as testosterone. These men don’t want to openly admit that they need this woman in their lives. That they appreciate her. For these men, Valentine’s Day is a gift. The inarticulate, uncreative man is showered with gift ideas from which to choose for Valentine’s Day. He is constantly reminded by the media so he won’t forget the day. He also is given a pass at being considered goopy and girly romantic because it’s a national gift-giving day and everybody is doing it. It’s a social ritual. He doesn’t have to stand out from the crowd on this day. There will be no undue attention paid to his gift outside his intimate relationships. Thus, no macho buddy can accuse him of being girly. He can’t even accuse himself. And on the women’s side, Valentine’s Day is a gift, too. Because some of us accept reality and know that the men who love us are not demonstrative in a romance hero manner, and never will be. But still, they love us. And they show it with Valentine’s Day gifts of all sorts. Once a year might not be ideal, but it’s enough. Oh, and as for me. Well, I surprised my guy one time by taking us on a balloon ride. Not bad for a beginner, huh?

My Valentine’s Day Rant

Valentine’s Day is nearly upon us, and that means a lot of men are under pressure to perform (sound familiar?) and a lot of women have unrealistic expectations. Oh, it’s not that bad, you say. Men enjoy rushing out to the stores and buying cards and chocolates, jewelry and roses, and perfume and lingerie. Men enjoy taking their sweethearts out to elaborate dinners, some complete with serenading and romantic (if smelly) horse-and-buggy rides afterwards. Or hired chauffeured limousines with bars and champagne. Right. And women are grateful and thrilled and happy with all the cards and candy and attention. And that night, every man who gave a Valentine’s Day gift, whether modest or lavish, is rewarded with willing, inventive, and loving sex from the grateful woman he wooed. Right. Our crazy consumerist society pushes romantic spending, flooding the media for weeks in advance of February 14th with all kinds of cutesy, helpful suggestions for how men can show they care with gifts. How to create a romantic mood. How to orchestrate a romantic date. How to spend lots of money. Sounds great, you say. And some of it is great, because it is accepted in the spirit in which it is given. Valentine’s Day as a seasonal ritual can be fun. Valentine’s Day M & Ms, anyone? But women’s expectations keep rising. A card isn’t enough. A box of candy isn’t enough. A dozen roses aren’t enough even though they are very expensive. Why? Because we now have a couple of generations of women who have been raised wearing pink and lavender princess costumes complete with tiaras. These cute little girls turn into the demanding divas of Bat Mitzvahs, Sweet Sixteens, and Quincearas. And then it’s on to Bridezilla! Do you seriously think that a box of chocolates or an ounce of French perfume—or even a tasteful diamond heart-shaped pendant—is enough for these spoiled creatures? Is there a real man out there who can possibly fulfill the outsize expectations that now permeate and poison Valentine’s Day? Very few men have the wealth, let alone the creativity. Fictional men have both, of course. That’s why we’re wild about them. Meanwhile, back in real life, Valentine’s Day is turning into one of those nightmare situations for men in which they can never do the right thing. Nothing is ever good enough. Over the course of my short lifetime (well, short compared to the pyramids of Egypt, okay?), Valentine’s Day has ramped up from a day of love tokens to a day of major spending. Businesses thrive on this and they push us with relentless, guilt-inducing advertising. The result? Both women and men can end up miserable at the end of the big day. The women expect the men to keep pouring on more and more gifts. And the men, set against each other in public competition, feel the pressure to win. It’s not enough that he gets you something. He has to get you something bigger and better than what the other women received. This is not romance. Is it fair for women to demand that men prove their love with gifts on a certain day of the year? Is it is even rational to accept enforced gifts as from the heart? The higher the expectations fly, the more unfulfilling Valentine’s Day becomes. Can’t we just bag this? So, here’s a thought just in time to keep you from ruining a good relationship with some decent person: Keep your romantic expectations simple this Valentine’s Day. Give gifts if you want to. Accept any you receive with graciousness. And then just relax, will you?

Practically Perfect in Every Way

My great-uncle was crazy about the Disney movie “Mary Poppins.” So much so that he went to see it again and again. (It came out in 1964, long before videotapes and VCRs brought movies into people’s homes on their own schedule.) At first I did not understand why he, a man of advanced years, was such a big fan of a kiddie movie. As time passed, I began to get it. In “Mary Poppins,” the British Edwardian time period is pictured as idyllic. That brief ten years after Queen Victoria died and before her eldest son also died (King Edward VII inherited the throne at age 59) has often been romanticized as a last moment of innocence, especially if one is an Anglophile. One pictures genteel young girls and boys being raised on great estates, imbibing healthy country air and memorizing lines from “Alice in Wonderland” and the Romantic poets. Which they did, before the Great War, aka World War I, dragged them all into the gritty reality of the 20th century. The world of “Mary Poppins” is pre-war, but not truly aristocratic. The father is solidly middle class, not a gentleman of leisure. And he is oppressed by his job at a stuffy bank that takes his time from his family, usually with his complicity but not entirely. He eventually realizes that he is missing out on his children, but he sees no way of changing things. Does this sound like the lament of the middle-class American organization man of the 1960s? It should. Meanwhile, the mother is played as rather frothy and silly, and part of that silliness is her campaigning for votes for women. When I first saw this movie, I thought Disney had it in for women because the mother is pretty consistently mocked. And she only gets one gown to wear, a far cry from the elaborate wardrobe of a fashionable city lady. On both counts, I think I was right; the mother gets slighted. Probably because she isn’t obsessively maternal in the American manner. This mother hires a nanny, and goes off to her own entertainments, while Mary Poppins, the super nanny, gives the children plenty of structure and fun in their lives. Hmm...what did this mean? Probably that Mother Should Stay at Home, a very typical message in America in the 1960s. (Heavy-handed and pointless disapproval, nonetheless. A movie wasn’t going to stop the rising tide of feminism.) So, the parents are distant, the father irritable and the mother amiable. The neglected children are running wild until Mary Poppins brings order and fun to their lives. Mary Poppins pays attention. Mary Poppins knows lots of interesting people. Mary Poppins insists on rules. Thereupon, the children begin to fully enjoy their lovely life. And it is a very good life indeed: They live in a nice house on an exceptionally clean street, there are servants, and the children’s lives are full of safe little adventures. That is, once Mary Poppins shows them around. Think of her as the gifted teacher who opens a child’s eyes to literature, drama, or history. And as a final bit of education, Mary Poppins shows the children that their father has a heart. And that while he plays the autocrat at home, at work he has to kowtow to bosses. Armed with the new concept that their father is a real person who has feelings, and that their mother is even willing to give up her entertainments to be part of a closer family unit (she puts her suffragette ribbon on their kite), the children are ready to safely cross over from completely self-involved childhood into the next stage of maturity. But the majority of the movie, and the reason my uncle watched it again and again, is the depiction of the fun and games of a safe childhood. The movie successfully recreates an idyllic moment in youth, and pegs it to a romanticized period in history. It must have reminded my uncle about his own youth, and of all the promise of being young and having a future. Before the World War changed the culture. Before the worldwide flu epidemic killed his sister. Before he discovered he wasn’t brave enough to face his family’s disapproval and marry the actress he loved. “Mary Poppins” speaks to any child who gets cranky from lack of parental attention but who also really just needs a little bit of it to be fine, ready to start off on another safe adventure. But “Mary Poppins” also speaks to any weary adult who would like to see the world as safe and pleasant, filled with good people, fun, and love. It is a romantic movie in the sense that ordinary life is viewed with rose-colored glasses. Magical things keep happening. Fantasy is put on an even standing with reality. Life is filled with possibilities. And aren’t these elements the core of romance? Possibilities? Magic? Optimism? Romance isn’t so much about sexual attraction as it is about hope. That’s why this movie meant for children, whose adults behave in a completely chaste manner throughout, is nevertheless a strongly romantic movie. In creating a mood of romantic optimism, “Mary Poppins” is practically perfect in every way.