Romancing the Blog | Romance Authors and Readers Who Blog

For the past ten years or so, the husband and I have been engaged in the process of cleaning our garage. The one tangible result of our effort is definitive proof of elves or other vengeful beings — no matter how much we clear out of the space, more stuff forms overnight to take its place. Oh sure, a lot of this stuff is in the form of books, but this only goes to prove that we need a bigger house.

Recently, we were engaged in our quarterly Salvation Army donation process when I noticed that something was dreadfully wrong. The kind of wrong that would have been right in any other circumstances. It has taken years of training, but the husband understands that the books stacked haphazardly in every available nook and cranny are keepers, while the books carefully packed into Trader Joe’s grocery bags (exactly the right size for paperbacks) are to be donated.

You don’t need much in the way of imagination to realize my sheer horror when I realized he was marching my precious collection of Amanda Quick books to the trunk of my car. Oh sure, they were in a Trader Joe’s bag, but that was a temporary solution due to the fact that I’d taken the notion to clean out a closet. The books were destined for the haphazard stacks as soon as I found a free moment.

Needless to say, the crisis was averted, but it got me thinking about Amanda Quick, or Jayne Ann Krentz or Jayne Castle or any one of the other names one of my favorite authors goes by.

I came late to the world of Jayne Ann Krentz, and, typically, in came in the backdoor. It happened one sunny Saturday when I was desperately seeking something to read. You’d think, since I was in a bookstore at the time, this wouldn’t be a problem, but nothing seemed appealing. Then I picked up a book called Scandal. While I’d always been a sucker for Regencies, I’d never really warmed to historical romances. But desperate people do desperate things, and I returned to the bookstore the next day. This time I bought Deception. I’m not sure how things played out after that, but rest assured I had purchased and read every Amanda Quick title published to date by the end that month.

Before long, I realized maybe I should give Krentz a try. Yeah, yeah, I know. But I’ve always had a perverse streak and tend to shy away from the most popular kids in the class. And, yeah, it required buying a lot of books to make up for lost time (as an aside, my Krentz experiment was so successful, I went on to give Nora Roberts a try). As I dug through my keeper books (though I had grand visions of doing serious research for this post, it turned out I was really just looking for an excuse to reread old favorites), I realized that I own a lot of Krentz, et al titles. A lot. I’m not necessarily proud of this, but it turns out that when I want to reread a book and can’t immediately locate it, I will purchase a second (or third) copy.

One thing I realized is that I prefer Krentz to Roberts. Now don’t get me wrong, I like a lot of Roberts’ work, but it strikes me that I never feel the urge to reread her stuff (Carnal Innocence excepted). I reread the Krentz stuff often, especially the early Amanda Quick titles. When I think of comfort reads, I think of these books, and I’m always pleased that they never grow old for me.

So what is it about Krentz that makes me so happy? As I’ve been rereading old favorites (and some that weren’t so favorite), I noticed certain trends that appeal to me. Her heroines are always smart and not ashamed of their brains. They’re not perfect — they jump to conclusions, they have tempers, and so many of them wear glasses. Krentz heroines don’t wait around to be rescued and they’re not afraid of a good fight, verbal or physical.

Krentz heroes are big, strong men with a strong streak of monogamy. They appreciate women with brains. They can admit they’re wrong. Krentz characters don’t waste time playing at coy — they don’t dance around their physical needs, the fulfillment thereof, or their emotions. These people can fall in love, acknowledge it, and spend the rest of the book working through the real obstacles in their way.

Krentz is also funny, and I’m a sucker for funny. Sure there’s overtly humorous (the famous “She doesn’t need therapy” line from Perfect Partners, but a good Krentz title is also filled with unexpected, sly wit. As I reread Sweet Fortune, I noticed I’d marked a page due to a small, hilarious line. Krentz is describing a fastidious, sartorially conservative man during a romantic rendezvous:

Instead of his usual discreetly striped silk tie, he was wearing one with little dots all over it. The man had obviously thrown all caution to the winds when he had packed for this trip.

Jayne Ann Krentz writes, mostly, about family. Not your traditional Leave It To Beaver family, but about real family. The kind that you form with your friends, siblings, cousins, mysterious strangers. The kind of family that comes from deep emotional bonds, no matter what types of legal decrees and bloodlines are in play. Some might argue that this is domestic to the extreme, but when you think about it, what matters more than home? What makes a home more than family? And, of course, what makes a family more than trust and love? Krentz likes to look at these basic needs from various angles, and that appeals to me greatly.

Oh sure, Krentz can be self-indulgent and sometimes a little too cutesy (that futuristic series with names like Amaryllis comes to mind; her foray into the secret society, Vanza, felt underdeveloped). She gets into certain grooves and doesn’t try too hard to get out (the brainy but beautiful younger sister). She tends to be very clear about her dietary beliefs (and it’s cool to have vegetarian characters) and madly in love with Seattle and its culture. But I forgive her these excesses because she takes chances. Heck, she wrote an entire book making fun of the attitudes that “real” artists have about commercial artist (Silver Linings).

I cannot do proper justice to Krentz. I often (ha!) complain that romance novels don’t reflect my world. Jayne Ann Krentz at least acknowledges that people like me exist. She embraces diversity, even if that diversity is Seattle white. The world of Krentz encompasses homosexuality as a norm. She knows that family is more than blood, and that families built on love and respect are all powerful. Her world knows that brains trump brawn, though sometimes a fist cuts through lengthy conversation. It accepts that women are smart and accomplished. Most of all, her characters understand what it means to love and to be loyal while still struggling with maintaining their individuality. In the world of Jayne Ann Krentz, the odd, the smart, the weird, and the square pegs are heroes.

Just like real life.

I could go on longer, but I have a choice: fold laundry or reread Grand Passion. And let me tell you, matching socks doesn’t hold a candle to the lost little boy inside Max Fortune…that packed suitcase gets me every time.

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