Consider the following:
• In a particularly memorable review of one of my books, the reviewer took my poor (literally) heroine to task for shopping at Wally’s World.
• In another, otherwise positive review, the critic couldn’t understand why the hero would be interested in the “frumpy†heroine.
• On a readers’ board, one heroine was soundly trounced for refusing to take money from her slimy ex (money, BTW, she didn’t need and saw as his lame attempt to buy his way out of his previous jackass behavior).
• A reader e-mailed me, declaring she’d never read another one of my books because the (clearly intelligent) heroine described herself as “acting like a blonde.â€
And so it goes. Oddly (or tellingly), in more than twenty books, not once has anyone ever criticized my heroes. But my heroines? Aiyiyi.
I find that very curious.
Granted, most of the time, I can shrug it off. I take reader expectations into account as much as the next romance author – within reason – but I also bust my butt to ensure my characters’ actions are consistent with who they are. I can’t worry about whether someone with Wal-Mart issues is going to take offense because my dirt poor heroine, living in a small Oklahoma town where that’s pretty much the only choice, shops there. Or, if the whole point of my story is how the “frumpy†gal gets the hunky guy, then why would I make her glam? Or if the heroine’s character arc depends on her breaking all ties to the man who systematically inflicted emotional abuse on her for years, then heck yeah, she would see taking money from him as continuing to give him power over her and her children. If she’d been starving, homeless or her kids were in jeopardy, then by all means, give that woman a TSTL T-shirt. Since she wasn’t, I was quite surprised by the vehemence with which the poor woman was attacked.
So from time to time, I wonder. . .why can our heroes get away with all manner of scurrilous behavior, and yet we’re often so hard on our heroines? We roll our eyes at heroines who are too sweet/innocent/doormattish/wimpy/perfect, and yet introduce a gal who shops where we wouldn’t, or tells her dirtbag ex that she don’t need his stinkin’ money, or is a WYSIWYG kind of gal, or can crack a blonde joke about herself, and suddenly everyone’s all over the poor thing. Okay, so not everyone, but enough to make this author go Hmmm. . .
Is it because of the whole identification thing, that so many readers see themselves as the heroine that they have a serious problem with those who don’t act or think exactly as they would? Or, perhaps, should? Does reading about a woman who actually yells at her kids make us cringe because we all know it’s awful and ugly, but how many of us have done it? Is it hard to read about a love-handled heroine in ten-year-old clothes without feeling as though we’re looking in a mirror (and isn’t that a depressing image?). Is it because we don’t like being reminded of the stupid stuff we’ve all done at some point in our lives?
And yet, 24 million viewers (most of them women, no doubt) adore DESPERATE HOUSEWIVES. And the more insane those gals act, the more we love them. So what gives?
Personally, I prefer to read (and write) women whose thoughts and words make me nod my head in empathy, or laugh out loud because I so get where they’re coming from. Women, who occasionally get bitchy and scared and act a little loony and, yes, sometimes buy their jeans from the Evil Empire. Still, I don’t expect these fictional women to be me, to always make the same decisions I would. That places an unfair burden on both author and character. As long as a character’s actions make sense given the parameters the author’s set for her, I’m willing to go along for the ride. Most of the time, anyway. I do draw the line at discovering, at the end of the book, she’s been hacking innocent people to bits and such. Otherwise I can enjoy reading a snarky heroine as much as a shy one, a sexual gourmand as much as a virgin. Or give me a good enough reason for, say, a heroine’s decision not to tell the father of her child that she’s pregnant, and I’ll accept that decision. As long as she’s not keeping body parts in her freezer, I’m basically a whatever kind of gal.
And even so, there will always be that special author who can even pull off the body parts thing.
From everything I’ve heard, readers crave more variety in their romance than ever before. Not all readers want the same things, obviously, but still, it seems to me the more we slap our heroines on their wrists, the less likely authors are to venture outside the sweet/innocent/perfect box (not me, but then I’m too old and ornery to be easily intimidated). We may not always agree with, or even like, the women who strut across the pages of our romances today, but we gotta give ‘em credit for daring to be different, for having the cojones to be themselves.
Not who we think they should be.
No related posts.
This is a very interesting topic! I too have wondered this, because I find myself disliking a heroine far more often than I dislike a hero. I’ve never really come up with a satisfactory answer for that. Even in my own writing, I often get fed up with my very own heroine, while the hero skates along completely secure in my affection.
I’m not totally sure. For whatever reason, in reality women are harder on women, I think. If you’ve ever worked at a place where all the employees are women, you will know this without a shadow of a doubt! So maybe it is just that women hold other women to higher standards–their own standards, while we don’t quite have as high standards for men, even our heroes.
I’m with you. I’d rather read about a real woman than a cookie cutter woman. I want my heroines imperfect, so that they can learn and grow and *still* be imperfect at the end of the book. And guess what? Real people, lots of them, DO shop at Wal-Mart. Someone’s got to be shopping there, if they make so darn much money. Anyway, back to characters… as long as their actions are in character for them, I’m good with nearly anything they do. Except for the body parts in the freezer.
I do agree,I think that characters need to be believeable. And it’s the books I like the best where I want to scream at the heroine and say “stop that!” or “quit being so needy/whiney/goofy/(insert annoying but REAL behavior here)”
I’m bad about it, because a lot of the romances I read do a flipped perspective, where we get to see inside both characters heads, so we KNOW the hero is sincere, but the heroine doesn’t.
Which winds up making the books some of my favorites, and the most memorable. Well, most of the time. There was the one (author’s name withheld) where the twin pretended to be her sister so she could be married to the twin’s husband, with whom she’d been having an affair. That book I still remember, and the book wound up being thrown across the room more than once.
This is a great topic. As I sit awaiting the reviews of my second romance novel that just hit the shelves, I wonder about this a lot. In my first novel, I had a heroine who was a self-proclaimed third-wave feminist. Some readers felt she was a little too hard on the hero and made it too hard for him. I don’t think anyone will call my second heroine a feminist but I’ve already had one reader complain she was too weak-minded. I guess this just show me that you can’t please everyone. But as an answer to the question, she’s her own heroine. I write character driven books. The heroines in my novel are true to themselves. They tell me what to write. At the end of the day it’s her story. So if that means she shops at Walmart or gives the hero a hard time or lets him get away with more than I ever would, its true to her. Thanks for the great post.
Gwyneth
I’ve been reading romances for over 30 years and have NEVER put myself in the heroine’s role. Maybe I’ve never identified with a heroine in a romance because they were white and I’m not. I’ve liked or admired many depictions of heroines but never projected myself into their role. I’m not quite sure I know what is meant by identifying with the heroine.
I can’t say I’ve ever met a romance heroine that I didn’t like. I like heroines almost anyway they come. Slim, fat, tall, short, shy, bold, black-haired, blonde or brunette, but for God’s sake no redheads! My preference, though, is for a strong-willed, confident, and decisive heroine. Same goes for the hero.
What makes or breaks a romance for me is the hero. I don’t like heroes that are overbearing, arrogant, and too dominant. I just don’t get that whole craze for alpha males.
I read a lot of ebooks and contact many of the authors to thank them for theit stories or ask questions about upcoming releases. I’ve never questioned them about their choices for their heroines. The characters belong to the writer, not me, as much as I may love them.
Excellent post.
Just. Excellent.
Nicole made some good points on “why.”
I don’t think I need to “be” the heroine, but I certainly do need to be able to empathize/sympathize with her. I read plenty of books with heroines who are NOTHING like me, but where I still really like them as people and actively want them to have a happy ending.
The things that drive me nuts are the “feisty†heroines whose main way of demonstrating said feistiness is expressed over and over in defiant TSTL moments, or heroines I flat out just don’t like, and would NEVER wish a happy ending for. These are few and far between, but they do exist.
Excellent post, Karen.
I, too, have heroine types that I don’t enjoy. But if the author is published, then someone liked that character, right? I simply won’t read the book but the thought of writing to an author and taking her to task for making a choice for her character (like where she shops, good Lord!) blows my mind.
However, I will say that I once got a grateful letter from a reader who appreciated that my heroine shopped at Dillards because in all the books she’d read, the heroines shopped at Macy’s. She worked for Dillard’s and liked seeing her store in a book!
Ooooh, I LOVE Dillards.
In Albuquerque, we have Macy’s and Dillards (and that’s about it), and I much prefer Dillards. So I, too, have had my heroines shop there on occasion.
Re: Relating to vs. identifying with: I think most readers want to be able to relate to a heroine’s thoughts and feelings to a certain extent, no matter how much they do or don’t identify with the character as a person, if that makes sense. But some readers — probably unconsciously — actually put themselves in the heroine’s shoes when they read. Therefore, when the heroine does something antithetical to what the reader herself would do, it jars her. It may even piss her off. (And there’s actually a third scenario, where the reader assumes the AUTHOR has put herself in the heroine’s place, but let’s not go there.
)
There’s a difference, IMO, between a symnpathetic, appealing heroine and a flawless, too-good-to-be-true one. It’s all about balance, which is why I, as a reader, have no trouble with snarky heroines who still obviously care about the people in their lives (even if they have no patience with the stupid ones). One the other hand, just like any other reader, I do have my limits — a heroine who gets blindingly drunk every couple of days, with no indication anywhere during the course of the story that maybe this isn’t a good thing, will not win any points with me. But is that because of my personal experience with family alcoholism, or am I reacting in a more general way?
And of course, I’m speaking in general terms — certainly I’ve heard readers take uber-Alpha jerks to task on occasion. But with heroines, the criticism definitely seems to be more nit-picky, and often with a definite ring of the personal about it.
And, as a final comment (for this post, anyway
), my own mother said she didn’t like my first Intimate Moments heroine. And yet, the long-haired, earring-sporting hero? Not a problem.:lol:
I’m always very hard on my heroines in straight contemporary romance novels. I give them more leeways in non-romance novels. I have no idea why. Sometimes I get this feeling: You don’t deserve this gorgeous hunk of a hero!
That sounded much more logical in my head. *wry grin*
In one of my books the hero and heroine smoked cigarettes. (I do not smoke). This really angered some readers. But the smoking was consistent with the characters and culture.
Be true to your characters. Who can please the crowd? Ya can die trying!
You don’t deserve this gorgeous hunk of a hero!
Actually, Angelle, there may be something to that — if the reader falls in love with the hero herself, then perhaps she subconsciously feels she’s in competition with the heroine? So sometimes what appears to be criticism is actually a veil for jealousy/envy?
Oooh, I bet therapists would have a field day with this topic, huh?
Women are naturally more critical of other women in real life as well as in fiction.
I liked this post a lot! I’m the kind of person who likes “real” characters with real personalities. I’m not a fan of the whole cookie-cutter type scenario. I think that’s why I have a hard time reading about heroines/heroes who are ridiculously wealthy. I don’t know anyone who’s ridiculously wealthy, so it makes it hard for me to identify with them.
If someone shops at Wal-Mart, more power to ‘em. I’ll probably be right beside them! LOL! 
I love frumpy heroine gets the hunky guy stories!
Karen,
Alas, it’s not even that complicated.
There are some heroines who I feel truly deserve her HEA and the hunky hero. But there are times when I hate the heroine so much — I feel a great deal of contempt and disgust and…oh you name it and I probably felt it (but only the bad negative seething stuff plz!) — I get so pissed off that the gorgeous hero ended up w/ her.
Of course if h/H both sucked, then well good. Serves them right and they should make each other miserable.
geez…I sound like a crazy reader, don’t I?
I’m seen a hero or two that I absolutely didn’t like, although I knew he’d have to redeem himself before the end of the book in order to get the heroine.
I like my heroines to be true to who they are. I admit I like it when I can empathize with them, although I don’t think I put myself in their shoes.
In general, I think women are too hard on one another. I just didn’t realize we did it to our fictional characters too! I’m with Julie–if I don’t like a character, I’ll move on and read something else. I can’t imagine telling the author something was wrong with the way she was written.
And I’ll also admit, much to my son’s chagrin, that I love shopping at Wally’s World. I’m not dirt poor but why not save a buck?
I just finished Emily Giffen’s Something Blue and was totally impressed with her umsympathetic whiny, helpless, spoiled heroine and how she redeemed her, in first person, no less.
I’m amazed such a different, nonsympathetic heroine apparently went over with the majority chick lit and romance readers. She’s rich, thin and beautiful though. Are those the necessarily constants that make a chick lit heroine work?
I’m a day late, but Karen, I total relate to this topic. I was just moaning about it the other day with a friend, as I got a review complaining that my heroine made a bad, spur-of-the-moment decision while under duress. She totally regretted it later and it had an impact on the story.
I was tempted to ask the reviewer if she’d ever had a moment in her life she looked back on and wished she could sweep it under the rug. If there’s one thing I DON’T like it’s reading a book where the heroine is perfect and makes all the perfect choices. I don’t want a hero that way either.
And I’ve read your books Karen. You rawk! 
Monica — absolutely not! Look at the mommy of them all, Bridget Jones! And Jennifer Weiner is known for her zaftig heroines! Who else. . .? Marion Keyes’s gals sure ain’t perfect — Rachel in RACHEL’S HOLIDAY was a substance abuser. In fact, “imperfect” heroines are more likely to pop up in chick lit than romance, simply because the readers are genuinely looking for relatable heroines.
And Mel — thanks! But I agree, I’m constantly shaking my head when I hear that someone’s given up on a book in the first fifty pages because they don’t like the heroine (or hero, for that matter). Whatever happened to giving the poor gal (or guy) a chance to grow during the course of the story? A character with no arc is kind of boring, if you ask me. Personally, I want to watch the whiny, self-centered heroine become more empathetic; the doormat gain confidence; the ditz take charge of her life. Otherwise, there’s not much to the story, is there?:mrgreen:
Perfect characters come across as literary devices and make storylines much too predictable because the characters tend to follow standard rules of behavior. No deviations, thus no excitement.
I prefer flawed characters because no matter the genre, whether romance, horror or scifi, I expect some realism (that is, if the characters are human, of course). If the bodies are perfect, I at least expect some flawed traits. Give me grumpy, bitchy, snarky…as long as there’s a reason for the trait. Which makes the premise of tales like “Wicked” a whole lot more appealing to me than the actual “Snow White.”
Congratulations! Imagine that – getting your readers so fired up by your heroines that they feel the need to write you and stick up for the heroine you “wronged”.:grin: Much like the best friend who guides with all the wrong advice
I can remember one book in particular where I felt like the hero wasn’t nearly good enough for the heroine, and I was actually angry at her for forgiving him. It was the only time I’ve been tempted to label the male lead “TSTL.”
(Get over your jealousy issues, dude… you’re starting to sound like a serial killer or wife beater and it’s NOT SEXY AT ALL.)