In the romance genre, there is a recurring theme of the hero taking the heroine. He forces the point, gets her in his bed, and she falls in love with him. In the real world, we would call that rape.
So why is it so hot in a novel?
Both readers and authors can't be deranged, taking mental instability right out. The population isn't out forcefully seducing each other, so art isn't imitating life. Nor is there a wave of bodice ripping in a case of life imitating art.
Meaning that this desire to be claimed is a deeper psychological need, not expressed in polite company.
Outright rape is horrid, is the product of a terrible mind. It is something women should defend themselves against, and is an unfortunate reality for too many people.
Which makes it seem sick to suggest that to be forcefully seduced is rooted in our base beings.
The key differences between rape and being taken are love and fear. Rape is about destroying the victims, about the power wielded over them. Taking your lover is about breaking their defenses so they'll listen to their heart and be happy.
Romance novels delve into that fantasy, allowing inner desires to come out. The pages are our safety net, letting us give into the darker wants without feeling ashamed. We can keep the characters at a distance, enjoy what they do, and never have to admit how much we want it for ourselves.
Because lots of us want the man of our dreams to whisk us away for a night of passion and love, even when we pretend to say no.
Random meanderings of a random author.
Monday, January 30, 2012
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Easy way to feel better about yourself
I suffer occasionally from depression and low-self esteem. I think it's probably intrinsic to the artistic mind. Maybe some fancy behavioral scientist is already doing a study to show that the neurotransmitters are closely linked.
Anyway, like anyone who knows about these darknesses themselves, it's hard to get out of them. Even when you can logically sit down and tell yourself there's no reason to be sad or anything.
Tonight, I forced myself out of one of those low malaises, and my husband and I went out to see the new Underworld movie. It wasn't bad, wasn't great. It was certainly a nice way to spend an evening with the man I love.
After the show's over, I'm getting a refill on my popcorn, and the young man behind the counter can't help but start flirting with me. I flirt back, because I love playing like that, and it makes me smile and feel great about myself. And my love is just watching, unobtrusively, enjoying the smile on my face.
It really did boost my self-esteem to have a boy half my age flirting with me over popcorn recipes. He suggests half butter-popcorn, half kettle corn for a texture change. He wasn't particularly cute or anything, so I had no appreciation of him, and he didn't realize I'm approaching 33, but it was one of those nice exchanges that puts a little skip in a girl's step.
So, what little pleasures and boosts do y'all get/take/make in your lives?
Anyway, like anyone who knows about these darknesses themselves, it's hard to get out of them. Even when you can logically sit down and tell yourself there's no reason to be sad or anything.
Tonight, I forced myself out of one of those low malaises, and my husband and I went out to see the new Underworld movie. It wasn't bad, wasn't great. It was certainly a nice way to spend an evening with the man I love.
After the show's over, I'm getting a refill on my popcorn, and the young man behind the counter can't help but start flirting with me. I flirt back, because I love playing like that, and it makes me smile and feel great about myself. And my love is just watching, unobtrusively, enjoying the smile on my face.
It really did boost my self-esteem to have a boy half my age flirting with me over popcorn recipes. He suggests half butter-popcorn, half kettle corn for a texture change. He wasn't particularly cute or anything, so I had no appreciation of him, and he didn't realize I'm approaching 33, but it was one of those nice exchanges that puts a little skip in a girl's step.
So, what little pleasures and boosts do y'all get/take/make in your lives?
Friday, January 27, 2012
#FridayFlash - Writer's Block
Rook stared at the blank blog field, leaning back in her chair. She was supposed to be setting up stories for the next several weeks, but she just couldn't bring herself to do it. Typing seemed so pointless.
A lot of things seemed pointless in the maelstrom of time.
Johan was always reminding her not to stress, to do what made her happy. Telling stories is what made her happy, but seemed trivial when time kept slipping out of her hands.
She was half-dragon in a human body, so time never made the most sense to her to begin with. But as the shift approached, she felt it rush by even faster, and it made her question her goals. Did being a storyteller at the end of an age make that big of a difference? Was it really that important?
Her followers were entertained, yes. She was always perceived as fiction, even when she not-so-subtly hinted at the truths of the universe. It made her smile to have people she'd never met comment on her words. All storytellers lived for recognition.
The cursor flashed accusingly, and Rook narrowed her eyes at it. What should she even write about? Maybe something else post-apocalyptic? She could go with magic, or revelations. Getting back to her vampire couple could always be good.
None of it was appealing. None of it felt right. The dragon part of her soul wanted to scream out her frustration, wanted to call to the friends she knew were in the world and looking for her. All things would be better if she could just have her family all in one place. She and Johan could only do so much by themselves. Even if their love could tear down walls, there were so many barriers between now and the end of the year.
Rook sighed when Mackey jumped into her lap. He was good at calming her down, at making the world seem a little brighter. He purred and purred, and she scratched beneath his chin.
Smirking, she reached for the keyboard with one hand. "I think I'll just write more about you, my little love." Still unsettled, but with a goal in hand, Rook began typing.
A lot of things seemed pointless in the maelstrom of time.
Johan was always reminding her not to stress, to do what made her happy. Telling stories is what made her happy, but seemed trivial when time kept slipping out of her hands.
She was half-dragon in a human body, so time never made the most sense to her to begin with. But as the shift approached, she felt it rush by even faster, and it made her question her goals. Did being a storyteller at the end of an age make that big of a difference? Was it really that important?
Her followers were entertained, yes. She was always perceived as fiction, even when she not-so-subtly hinted at the truths of the universe. It made her smile to have people she'd never met comment on her words. All storytellers lived for recognition.
The cursor flashed accusingly, and Rook narrowed her eyes at it. What should she even write about? Maybe something else post-apocalyptic? She could go with magic, or revelations. Getting back to her vampire couple could always be good.
None of it was appealing. None of it felt right. The dragon part of her soul wanted to scream out her frustration, wanted to call to the friends she knew were in the world and looking for her. All things would be better if she could just have her family all in one place. She and Johan could only do so much by themselves. Even if their love could tear down walls, there were so many barriers between now and the end of the year.
Rook sighed when Mackey jumped into her lap. He was good at calming her down, at making the world seem a little brighter. He purred and purred, and she scratched beneath his chin.
Smirking, she reached for the keyboard with one hand. "I think I'll just write more about you, my little love." Still unsettled, but with a goal in hand, Rook began typing.
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