 What I've Learned
Autumn 2006
Romance writers often are the recipients of the snide “oh, you write those” comments by people who have never read a romance novel and have only the vaguest idea of what they may be about. Those same readers often become big fans. I have discovered that writers of faith-based romance novels are the stepchildren of that same negative idea–“oh, you write those!” If you haven’t read one, try it out. Maybe it won’t be your cup of tea, or maybe it will be the kind of story you’ve been searching for.
You might have read my name mentioned in a Dear Abby column earlier this fall. I had written to her in response to advice she gave a mother concerned about her daughter’s reading of romance novels. The following is what I told her, which wasn’t printed because it’s clearly too long for her column. I’ve been asked about it so much, I decided to include it here:
Dear Abby,
Regarding your advice to the mother who was concerned about her daughter’s reading of romance novels and your response. I mostly agreed with your assessment. Yes, there is such a thing as age appropriate, and yes, parents should take an active interest in what their children read. Hooray this girl is reading. I do take issue with your statement, “Some might argue that the idealized depiction of romance and women being rescued by powerful, wealthy men is more corrosive than sex and eroticism.” It’s clear that it’s been several decades, if ever, since you read a romance novel, and I have a number of issues with your denigration of an entire genre.
Your statement represents an unsubstantiated view that the readers of romance novels are somehow weak-minded enough they don’t understand they are reading fiction. No such claim is ever made about the readers of mysteries, horror, or any other fiction.
Romance novels–like mysteries, fantasies, westerns, literary, or any other genre–are entertainment, first of all. However, I would be among those who would suggest that fiction reveals truth and the human condition more powerfully, usually, than non-fiction.
Personally, I’m a sucker for happy endings. Personally, I like stories about women in pursuit of their dreams. Until quite recently, those kinds of stories were found only within the pages of romance novels. Otherwise, women were the sidekick to the male protagonist, the love interest or sex object of a powerful man.
Romance novels are, at their core, are about women who are the heroes of their own stories. Just as Pride and Prejudice and Jane Eyre are novels that reflect the women and culture of their times, so, too, are today’s romance novels a reflection of women today. The heroines of romance novels are homemakers and judges, cooks and jet pilots, homebodies and doctors, teachers and business moguls. There is literally a romance novel for any taste that is as varied as women are. Do you like your stories gritty or sweet, comedic or angst ridden, with an open or closed bedroom door, set on earth or in a place far far away, contemporary or in another time? Do you like stories set against a strong Christian background or in a highly erotic setting? Romance novels have it all, and there is literally a niche for any taste. What romance novels have in common is they are all about the heroine in search of her dream ... and a man proving he’s worthy of her. Romance novels embody family values (and I do mean Family Values as bandied about in the media). One man, one woman, overcoming obstacles together, and creating a family unit rather than your depiction of a presumably weak-minded woman being rescued by a wealthy, powerful man.
Not once have one of my heroines been rescued by a wealthy, powerful man. My heroines have been Pulitzer prize-winning photojournalists, microbiologists, storm chasers, café owners, accountants, environmentalists, firefighters, and antiques dealers. My heroes have been military men, police detectives, attorneys, DEA agents, scientists, hotshot firefighters, and wilderness survival experts. Do they face problems that must be overcome and sometimes rescue one another? Of course. But, the books are entertainment, and it’s up to the reader to decide what she’ll take away from the story.
I recently received a note from a reader, who told me, in part, after she’d read one of my books, “Your wonderful book provided just the escape I needed while I was receiving chemotherapy. I hardly noticed the passage of time or the burn of the drip which usually seems endless to me. Thank you.” Note the word “escape.” The fact that my words provided this to someone who needed escape means everything to me.
Regards,
So much for my soapbox...
In Memory of My “Sis” – Judy Stringer
My grand experiment of writing faith-based romantic suspense took a major detour in 2004 when my good friend, Judy Stringer, faced her final battle with the breast cancer that had been diagnosed in 2000.
We hadn’t met one another until the fall of 1992 when we became critique partners, not long after she moved from Seattle to Fort Collins, Colorado. We may have been born of different mothers and have no blood relation at all, but we were ... and are ... sisters. The dry facts of her life ... where she went to college (Northwest Nazarene University in Nampa, Idaho), how many children she had (two sons, B.J. and Kevin), the name of her husband (Bo), and what she did for a living (English teacher, real estate agent, business owner, among others) ... don’t come close to revealing the essence of her.
She laughed easily and with huge delight, and as I write this, I can hear her laughter ringing in my ears. She is easily the most generous person I’ve ever known. We’d been good friends only a couple of years when I moved across town. In the middle of it, I discovered that I’d grossly underestimated the amount of help I needed. Judy had encouraged me to ask for help, and when I did, she came with her huge diesel pickup and her even bigger smile. She and her husband pitched in well beyond anything that was reasonable to expect.
We were one another’s roommates of choice at writer’s conferences, and we had the best times together. As a writer, she had a great comedic rhythm and a warm, vibrant voice within her work. I grieve that none of her manuscripts ever made it into print. She used to give me a hard time with the angst-ridden situations that too-often filled my work with a “Boy, am I depressed now” and a “Maybe you could lighten this up a bit by ...” She’d be right, of course. I still need that reminder. In return, her work often made me laugh out loud. A writer who can make you laugh – ah, that is a rare and wonderful gift.
She was my most trusted first reader, and the last book she read as my proofreader was Small Town Secrets. She actively disliked the villain and offered me innumerable and creative ideas for his demise.
It’s been two years, and I still miss her.
What I’ve learned is ... life is a journey, and the more you’d like it to stand still when it’s perfect, the faster it speeds up. Let your loved ones know how cherished they are–even if you have the full, long life you plan for, it’s still too fleeting.
--Sharon
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