Every once in a while, someone suggests that perhaps the genre would be taken more seriously by Others (and, perhaps, by Us, as well) if more romance authors reviewed/critiqued each other’s work. That lack of critical analysis – of romance by those who write it – is what separates romance from the literary Big Boys (and Girls).
I’m not convinced. And here’s why.
First off, romance is commercial fiction. And while commercial fiction can certainly be analyzed from a sociological perspective (dissecting tropes and general themes and such), precious little of it’s going to stand up to the type of nitpicking many of us had to slog through in our college literature classes. Nor should it be expected to, frankly. Not when 99.9 percent of romance authors don’t have the luxury of taking two, three, seven, fifteen years between books, as do many of our literary cousins. Most of us are just doing well to produce what we hope are entertaining, solidly crafted books in a timely enough fashion to stay on the radar and keep from starving to death. Done is the goal here, not deep.
Not that our books don’t explore themes, or can’t be well-written. Clichés are not mandatory, despite what one sees in far too many books. Nor are stock characters, despite the (lamentable) fact that stock characters – and plots – often sell far better than Fresh and Different.
“So,†you might say, “isn’t that exactly why we need more insider criticism, to showcase both the good and the bad, to raise the level of romance storytelling to a higher plane?â€
Would that it worked that way. But, alas, it doesn’t seem to, far as I can tell. Why? Because, again, it’s commercial fiction. And an awful lot of readers obviously don’t give a rat’s bum about quality, they just want to escape with a fun or scary or tearjerking or sexy read for a few hours. It’s not about how good the book is, it’s about how good its sales are. Period.
So, yeah, mediocrity is alive and frighteningly well in our industry – although there’s always that pesky issue of who defines what’s good and what’s not. In any case, if reviewers haven’t been able to influence either readers or publishers to stop buying poorly crafted books, or, conversely, to snatch up the jewels that somehow sneak past the banality and thus ensure that author keeps getting those contracts, what the heck difference does it make if authors do the policing reviewing?
It’s often been said that romance authors are too “nice†to each other, that there’s some unwritten code against publicly bashing critiquing another author’s book. Of course, there are some authors who have no problem with reviewing other authors’ books, The Code be damned. Their choice. But does their doing so gain the genre respectability from outside? I doubt it. In any case, I’m not sure an author’s choosing to abstain from publicly criticizing her peers’ work stems from her being goody-goody as much as it does some innate, basic wisdom that says, You know, who needs the stress? Many of us feel we’ve got enough to do watching our own butts, thank you, without sticking them out there for everybody and her cousin to take pot shots at. Sure, we talk up books we love. When we get the chance to read, that is. But when you spend much of your life obsessing about how to get what’s in your head onto the page – and then whether enough people will get what you’re trying to do so you can do it all over again (yeah, writing definitely takes a certain masochistic mindset) – it does tend to make a body think twice about ripping apart somebody else’s work.
Yes, even when it’s so soul-suckingly bad you think it’s a joke.
Besides that, in a community of more than two thousand published authors, what criteria decides who among us has reached that exalted status where our opinion would be taken seriously by the world at large? Longevity? Awards? Bestsellerdom? Does getting one’s driver’s license automatically bestow the ability to explain how and why the car works? Okay, I suppose we can all name authors whose reputation would deem them worthy of such an, um, honor, but y’know…my guess is that they have better things to do. Like keep writing the books that put them up there on that gosh-darned pedestal to begin with.
That’s not to say authors have no say in molding the genre, outside of writing the best books they can. They can give workshops and teach and judge contests, if they wish. They certainly can – and should – cite weaknesses in the genre they’d give their eyeteeth to see addressed/fixed/banished. But once a book is in print…how much does their opinion really count, anyway, in the grand scheme of things?
IMO, there are plenty of folks already taking magnifying glasses to our books without a bunch of opinionated authors elbowing their way into the fray. And that’s fine – I’m not arguing against critiques or analyses in general, only against the idea that authors should feel obligated to horn in on the discussion. Especially since not only do I doubt doing so would cause any huge ripples in the literary world, but instinct tells me we’d more likely just end up sounding like a bunch of Mean Girls who get their jollies from ripping each other apart.
Which, if it’s respectability you’re after, would kind of defeat the purpose, no?
No related posts.
My brother is an English professor. I write science fiction, mysteries, and romance. I want to write romance. My brother the English professor asked me when was I going to get serious about my craft. I told him I am very serious about my craft. My craft is storytelling. And y’know what? That made perfect sense to him.
Telling stories — as opposed to constructing literary doorstops — is more folk art than high art, and that’s just fine. A whole lot more people enjoy folk art — and use it daily, make it a part of their lives — than pay any attention to high art.
And nowhere in the definition of folk art does it say anything about taking anything away from anyone or anything else. In the same way also I don’t think the word ‘critic’ can be found anywhere in the description of a storyteller. Nor should it.
I agree with KeVin. The tastes of the romance reading public are so varied, I could never imagine criticizing another author’s work. What I like in a romance may be vastly different from what someone else likes, that’s why there needs to be so many of us – so we can cater to a broad range of readers. I’ve had opportunities to become a book reviewer along with being an editor and a writer, and I’ve passed on those opportunities, because while I know what I like [and therefore I write that] I don’t presume to tell someone else what they should like or dislike. I’m not knocking authors who review, but I just don’t have it in me.
I’ve always thought one of the up sides of this business was that romance writers tend to be more supportive of each other. I’ve yet to meet another author who thinks of this as a competition and is looking to clear the playing field. I’d hate to see that attitude encouraged because everyone, especially the readers, will suffer for it.
I don’t think authors are the best judges, anyway. That’s why I don’t like authors as writing contest judges. They aren’t the audience. The readers are. I’m sure you’ve seen examples in critique sessions when somebody’s writing style is praised, but you’re thinking, yeah, but a nice writing style isn’t what sells a book to a reader. The story sells the book. It’s wonderful if the story is very well written. But frankly, we all have gotten enjoyment out of some quite badly written (especially as to prose style, not to mention gaping holes in the plot)romances. Why? Because the story so caught the imagination that we were not looking at the style.
I think Karen’s post makes good points, and I agree with her conclusions, but what struck me most about this post was not whether romance writers should review each other or not, but what it revealed about romance readers. “Done not deep” implies romance readers don’t care about depth, and then “an awful lot of readers obviously don’t give a rat’s bum about quality” really made me think. Is it quality these readers don’t care about? When they’re reading, do they think “These sentences suck, and the characters are cardboard, but hey this story is great.” There’s nothing wrong with that thinking, I just wonder if that’s really what’s going on in their heads or if it’s more complex than that. Maybe they’re young, or haven’t read a lot, or haven’t had a chance to develop a taste for deeper material. I know that happened to me as a reader. What I loved in my 20s and 30s no longer satisfied so easily in my 40s and now that I’m 50-something I am really hard to please.
You know, critical reading (i.e. analyzing what did and didn’t work FOR YOU) is an important past-time for anybody who’s serious about their own writing. But when I do this, it’s for me. It’s my opinion, my tastes, what’s helpful for me. When something doesn’t work for me, I identify why because it helps me see what to avoid doing in my own work. Likewise I analyze what worked well and how the author did it so I can improve. Seems like a big leap to think that my analysis would do diddly for anybody else. It’s very individual.
There are books that don’t work at all for me that other people love and buy in large numbers. I don’t think for a minute that I’d influence those readers to buy something else instead, nor should I. Those books work for them and why should they stop enjoying what works for them because it didn’t work for me?
I do recommend books that I love, that work for me, but I don’t see any point in doing the reverse.
[...] I’ve also read a couple of articles by authors (who are classed as commercial writers, but I gather would like to be classed as literary writers) dissing commercial writers in a round about way, and then read this blog on Romancing the Blog about commercial writing (in part). The RTB blog author seems to be saying that mediocrity is alive and well in commercial writing because commercial writers have to churn the books out too fast if they want to stay on the radar and make a living, so they don’t have time to make the book that good. She also mentions that readers don’t care about the writing that much, just a good story. No disrespect to her, but I was a bit stumped by this. [...]
As for publicly criticising (negative reviewing) each other’s work, it really doesn’t make a lick of sense to me. I don’t believe in shooting the wounded members of my team. If I did, I wouldn’t have a team left after a while. And I’d eventually have to shoot myself too.:roll:
Obviously I’m in total disagreement *g* since I’ve blogged about this before and since I review, but I’ll quote some stats (rather than just sharing my opinion) from the comment section of my post last year about authors reviewing – something that some in the romance community continually object to, while it’s a very common practice in mystery, to give one example. Why does that genre accept peer analysis, yet romance is so squeamish about the same?
Maybe it’s because I come from a “literary” background, but I totally disagree with this column. As a reader I have a major problem with how badly crafted some romance novels are (and how badly researched!). Most of my friends distain the genre for these same reasons. It’s not that they don’t want to read love stories, they don’t want to read badly written prose, or stories that simply make no sense. Well crafted romance novels DO exist, and my friends devour them when I point them out. I really wish we, as a writing community, put far more emphasis on the importance of craft.
Karen, I know you’re not saying that Romance shouldn’t welcome more analysis because that would only highlight the core level of mediocrity in the genre. Although I think there’s that tension point in your own *analysis*.
What I think is sad is that critique is always equated with criticism. And yet, when those mega fans go on and on about every little detail of a book or a series, that’s critique, too. Analysis = breaking something down into components and viewing them separately before putting them all back together.
Would such a thing make authors “mean girls”? Personally, I’ve seen way more meanness emerge from the “if you can’t say anything nice” club than from authors like Alison and HelenKay Dimon and others who are thoughtfully reflecting on books in their own genre. But then I tend to think that *pressure* to be nice tends to foster passive-aggressive anger. There’s so much talk of women being the peace-keepers, but sometimes I just wonder if we’re just trying to avoid conflict, which may not be the same thing at all.
I completely disagree. And- pubicly criticizing/goody-goody seems to drawing some lines. Good criticizim does not ‘rip apart’-key word being good.
I also thing it WOULD bring respectability and you can have an analysis without resorting to being a mean girl.
As far as respectability, it will take time. Good revieers are hard to come by and they take a while for their opinion to be established and bear some weight.
It’s sad that you feel peers are so unworthy to judge and would resort to ripping apart rather than giving a careful analysis.
Karen said:
“…an awful lot of readers obviously don’t give a rat’s bum about quality, they just want to escape with a fun or scary or tearjerking or sexy read for a few hours.”
What an insult. Unless we’re looking at different definitions to ‘quality’ here. If I wanted a poor quality fun, scary, tearjerking or sexy read, I’d write it myself and randomnly chuck adverbs all over the place laughingly.
If I want to get away for a couple of hours, and if I want to pay 6.99/5.99 as the vehicle to that sweet escape, you better believe I expect quality. Commercial fiction or no. You better believe that.
And when I don’t get it, I don’t say: ‘ah well, it was a romance – mediocrity is expected! mediocrity is the key to sales!’. I love ths genre. Let’s call it my baby. If my child keeps on failing at math because he’s just too damn lazy to study for it, I’m not going to say ‘ah well, he’s an artist, artists don’t have to worry about math. Mediocrity in math is expected of artists’ or whatever. He damn well better pick up a book and start the studying. I damn well better make sure he does.
Which leads me to this comment: “It’s not about how good the book is, it’s about how good its sales are. Period.”
You mention this in the same paragraph that you focus on readers but this comment I’m assuming is for publishers? So you’re saying what? The quality of a romance author’s work output is directly related to the publisher’s bottom line? So you sign up for a three book contract and because that means you only have a year to do each one (as opposed to those lucky duck literary authors who can swing along in the wind for 10+ years between their highly acclaimed works of art) romance authors don’t have to worry/care as much about their craft????
Say it aint so.
Who ever said time = quality when it comes to writing?
I’d be prepared to argue the opposite in most cases.
Also, it’s not so much that a writer can not be a good reviewer. Or a good critic — the two are, I think, different functions. A critic, in my lexicon, deconstructs a story to examine how it was done — it’s a tachnical disection, and something I’ve paid good coin for at writers’ conferences. A reveiwer measures how well the story accomplished its goal — which basically is a subjective assessment of whether or not the story worked for the reviewer.
However, being a skillful writer does not always make one a skillful critic or reviewer. The key word being skill. Both reviewing and critiquing require a completely different skill set from writing. I don’t critique as well as I write and it’s not a skill I’m interested in developing — so I don’t critique. Reviewing doesn’t interest me.
Also, as I said earlier, there’s a difference of intent between literary fiction — which focuses on technically elegant sentences artfully arranged — and storytelling — which focuses on, well, telling a story. Folk art or decorative art is not a lesser art than high art — it’s a different art. It serves a different purpose and plays by different rules.
These are not mutually exclusive — there is always room for that which is both. In art and in literature. It is more common, however, to find a thing to be more one than the other, and it’s best to judge it by the criteria under which it was created.
I’m with KeVin. Speaking as a critic and as a reviewer (of poetry, not of romance), I’d have to say that I think keeping the roles of author and reviewer separate makes a lot of sense.
Over the years, more and more newspapers have turned to poets to review poetry, and you know what? Their reviews are generally useless to general readers. Poets scratch each others’ backs, or pick fights, or come across as focused on how well they’ve turned a phrase or “defended the art.” (The art of poetry, that is–not the art of reviewing.) Yes, there are exceptions–Randall Jarrell, Hayden Carruth–but they’re getting fewer and farther between. No one wants to write negative reviews (what if that poet is the judge of a contest I want to enter?), except a few folks who then seem to pride themselves on disliking almost everything, leaving their columns both sour and predictable.
I’d love to see more good critics and scholars and book reviewers write about romance, the way Pam Regis did for a while in the Washington Post Book Review. Heck, I first heard about “Devil’s Cub” in a column by Michael Dirda, in the same newspaper. And I do love it when authors write about romance as a whole, or about their chosen genre. But actual reviewing by authors? Not a high priority for me.
Oooh, controversy!
Okay, I’ve been away all morning (not hiding out, I swear), and I’d planned on answering everyone in one post. Since that would make this post longer than the original, however….
Cindy: When I said many readers don’t care about craft, I meant that they’re not consciously aware of it when they’re reading. Most tend to not even notice, let alone be bothered by, technical issues like repetitions, cliches and POV switches that drive many authors (and the more discerning reader) bonkers. It really is all about story for them — the ideas far more than the words.
And I’m with you on the changing tastes thing — what worked for me twenty years ago doesn’t so much anymore. That’s not true for everyone, however — I know plenty of readers who are not only perfectly content reading the same types of stories/writing they did decades ago, but who also lament how hard it is to find “books like they used to write them.”
And those who do move on probably don’t analyze why, they just know that what they used to love doesn’t work for them anymore.
Kalen: As someone who puts a HUGE emphasis on craft — both in my own books (yes, even when under deadline contraints, which is why I’m borderline insane most of the time) and in the books I read — I agree with you: I, too, wish there was more emphasis put on craft. And actually, with the proliferation of contests that critique entries and workshops, there is more now than ever. Editors have said they’re seeing a much higher level quality of submissions these days than they used to.
But after a dozen years in this business, I’m also a realist. As I said in the column, over the years plenty of people — readers, reviewers, even authors — have blatantly called for higher standards in published work. And will continue to do so, I’m sure. But I just don’t see how authors reviewing — or critiquing, or analyzing — each other is going to accomplish that goal, for the reasons I stated in my article.
Stay tuned, I’m not done yet…:roll:
Robin: You know, I was worried about getting all balled up in the difference between analysis and criticism/reviewing, although I’m not sure in the final analysis (cough
), it would make a difference in my conclusion. As Kevin and Eric both point out, not all authors would be particularly good at either critiquing or analysis, which takes a different set of brain muscles than making up the stuff. That’s NOT to say some authors aren’t brilliant at both, but for many of us, dissecting’s just not our thang. Yeah, many of us do it to some extent as a means to improve our own craft, but putting those musings into comprehensible form for public consumption…could be scary.
And when I stated that I don’t believe most romance novels would stand up to serious analytical scrutiny, that’s because I tend to think of literary analysis in terms of looking for metaphors and deeper meanings and themes deliberately braided into the story. I’ve seen some of my books analyzed that way, and it just seemed to me a bit of a reach — even though I *do* think in terms of theme and metaphor.
Analyzing tropes and archetypes in general, though — fascinating. Like Jenny Crusie’s column on the Glittery HooHa from last week.
More to come…
It occurs to me that some of this has swerved way off topic, but such is the nature of discussion.
So, Dahlia — I knew when I said that many readers (notice I did not say ALL readers) don’t care about quality, that would raise a few hackles. Especially among those readers who do. I know I do. Picky doesn’t even *begin* to cover it.
But who among us hadn’t shaken our heads in dismay about why Author X (who “everyone” agrees is a terrible writer) keeps getting those contracts, while Author A (who “everyone” also agrees is fabulous) loses her publisher? How could such a thing happen? It happens because somebody (a lot of somebodies, actually) keeps buying Author X while poor Author A’s sell-through isn’t sufficient to warrant renewing her contract.
So, yeah, it’s about the bottom line. And the bottom line is driven by readers — albeit not necessarily readers with our tastes, or who even read this column.
Is mediocrity *expected*? No, I wouldn’t say that. But neither is brilliance, which is very sad. Publishers will definitely take an averagely written hot story (as in, what’s selling like gangbusters at the moment) over a well-written one deemed currently not in vogue. Sometimes, they’ll take both. But when the averagely written book seriously outsells the “better” one…well.
Story — or, so often these days, trends — all too often trumps quality. In an ideal world, it would be about the whole package — storytelling AND craft. But from where I’m sitting, that just doesn’t seem to be the case.
So I didn’t mean my comment to be insulting, just a dose of reality.
Youknow-I understand the point that Karen and others are trying to make, I do. My beef is this, there are a ton of review sites and mags out there, but when I break down and purchase what they review as must reads, I am disappointed. Why? Beause craft plays an equally important role to me as story-backwards as reviews go, I know, but that’s the way it is for me. So I want an ‘In House’ review.
Because I hate spending my money-and more importantly my TIME – on books that aren’t as well crafted as they could be.
Like CtC. I wasn’t bowled over by the story, but dang, what incredible craft. Stellar. Because of that I don’t feel as if I wasted my time, and I think I learned a lot, too.
I agree with Alison Kent. Thoughtful peer-reviewing would benefit the Romance world.
Some authors tell good stories but get lazy with their writing — they could gain more readers if they improved their craft, and critical analysis could point the way.
I don’t care about the opinion of the “literary big boys.” I’d just like to see us push ourselves to be better.
::Some authors tell good stories but get lazy with their writing — they could gain more readers if they improved their craft, and critical analysis could point the way::
In theory, perhaps, although I still maintain that craft and readership simply doesn’t correlate in the real world the way most of us would like to think it does. I’ve simply seen too much evidence to the contrary. Even if it did, however, how many writers would actually pay attention to what another author thinks about their craft? Would they think, Hey, she hates run-on sentences, oops, better not use those anymore? I doubt it. And again, who decides which authors get to tell others how to improve their craft?
For instance…I’d like to think I’ve got a pretty good handle on what constitutes decent writing. I’ve always been a voracious reader, always loved language and paid attention to all those pesky grammar and syntax lessons in school. I’ve studied the classics and read outside the genre. As a writer, I work hard at my craft. I pay attention to articles and whatnot that make sense to me, applying what I learn from those articles to my own work. Every one of my books goes through four or five editing passes before my editor sees it. I’d like to think I’ve got an eye for spotting good books, too — nearly every book or sample of writing I’ve given a thumbs’ up to in contests has gone to sell or win/place in a contest.
HOWEVER…an awful lot of contest entries that haven’t exactly bowled me over have also gone on to sell. And when I’ve seen those books in finished form, trust me — there’s not a whole lot of difference in the final product than there was when I critiqued it as a contest judge.
In other words, precious few people took my comments to heart. Imagine.
Then there’s the RITA, already criticized for being peer judged, because — the thinking goes — authors don’t look at books the way readers do (which I don’t totally agree with, but we’ve already had that discussion.:roll:). Because we DO judge at least partly on craft. Some of us even mark down a good story poorly told. But then again — considering the wide range of scores many authors get, clearly even authors can’t agree on what makes a book good or not.
So even if the goal is improving the craft overall, if the comments go unheeded, or are contradictory…what’s the point? If they’re even seen, that is, since unless someone actually e-mails a critique to an author (which would be beyond tacky, IMO) that’s not a given. Not all authors troll the Internet looking for reviews — in fact, many deliberately avoid it.
But there’s something else: As much as I, too, would dearly love to see the level raised across the board, the idea of imposing some universal standard (as if a bunch of authors could even agree on such a thing) on romance authors that says prologues or adverbs or passive voice or frequent POV switches or whatever are always, always wrong makes me shudder.
In a business rife with pressure, one of the few freedoms writers have left is the right to tell their stories in their own words (although one hopes those words are correctly spelled and used in grammatically correct sentences). It’s then up to publishers to determine whether those stories are “good enough” to sell — not other authors. And homogenization — already seen all too frequently in unpublished writers’ work due to fears of “breaking the rules” — is a much bigger threat, IMO, than crappy writing.
In any case, the desire to improve has to come from the individual writer, not from the outside…even when the “outside” is from the “inside.”
As Kevin and Eric both point out, not all authors would be particularly good at either critiquing or analysis, which takes a different set of brain muscles than making up the stuff.
Oh, believe me, I’m not wanting ALL authors to join the fray; my concern is more that I feel the community is so unwelcoming to critique, both by readers and especially by authors. And you know, I think that goes for authors talking *positively* about other author’s books, as well, beyond the cover blurb and friendly support/plug comment here and there. And I especially think this is too bad because I like hearing what other people who write in the genre appreciate about different books. I won’t ever substitute that for my own judgment, but certainly I think it can add to it. And I’m not talking specifically about reviewing, either, since I agree with everyone who has said that a good reviewer is someone who is skilled in that type of writing (although I disagree with Eric that the roles of author and reviewer should be separate). One of the reasons I think it’s sometimes tough for readers to see authors as “readers first” is that we can’t often interact with them *as readers* because of all the weird taboos around not offending another author. When I heard tale of a prominent editor saying she wouldn’t work with any author who she heard said anything about another author, I had two thoughts: 1) well, you must not expect anyone of real talent to challenge THAT declaration, and 2) given what your existing authors have said in public, I think you’ve already violated your prohibition.
As for what literary analysis is and does, I realize that people think of it in a certain way, but the field is so incredibly wide that what you’re talking about is not fully representative of the field or the practice. Not that I should expect the Romance community to know that, but it’s hard to even get to that explanation (IMO that’s part of the advanced class, right after what’s the difference between commenting and reviewing) because of all the baseline hostility to what I’d call “close reading.”
Robin, I think most authors do talk about books they love as much as they can. I know I do. It’s just I have much less time to read now than I used to — it just took me three weeks to eke out enough time every night to get through the latest SEP! And I know a lot of other authors in the same boat. In fact, you can hear the roars of glee when we send in a book and take a week to do nothing but read! Bliss!
Also, not all romance authors read a lot of romance (some don’t even like reading any kind of fiction, especially when they’re actively “on book”) in large part because we want to keep our Muse segregated from everyone else’s. I’ve found that concentrating my scant reading time on other types of fiction keeps my brain — and hopefully my writing — fresh.
Not true for all romance authors, certainly. Some still read like fiends. And romance, at that. But that might be one reason why you don’t hear us chatting about each other’s books, even in a positive light, very often — because we simply haven’t read them.
Not true for all romance authors, certainly. Some still read like fiends. And romance, at that. But that might be one reason why you don’t hear us chatting about each other’s books, even in a positive light, very often — because we simply haven’t read them.
Good point, Karen; I’ll keep that in mind.
Karen, I’m sure you know that you stuck your neck out there and I want to thank you! This is the first RTB post in a long time that made my heart rate jump, and, dammit!, we need to put it out there if we’re serious about this genre. It’s not going to surprise anyone that I disagree with you but I’m glad you said what you did. Really. Truly. Honestly.
We need to talk about this.
I believe that expert criticism of any genre is essential. While I decry the lack of reviews of romance fiction in mainstream media, I am angered beyond belief when the reviews are written by people who “don’t really read romance”. If you do not know the mores of a genre, how can you effectively critique a work? If you are not familiar with the history and current conventions of a genre, how can you judge its place in the canon? And, yes, romance fiction has a canon. It’s very fluid but as we become more sophisticated as a genre (as opposed to a market), we are developing a canon. Books like Loretta Chase’s “Lord of Scoundrels” are continually cited as favorites by readers while so many books fall by the wayside because they rise above the crowd, they define the canon. They stand up to serious literary criticism (as defined by the genre, and I believe all serious literary critics must respect the rules of genre).
The falling by the wayside noted above is not limited to romance fiction. It’s an industry epidemic. A lot of not-great books are published every year.
Romance fiction, particularly, is a genre where insider baseball criticism is sparse. It is the norm in literary fiction and I do not buy into the “commercial” argument about serious criticism of romance fiction. If we, the experts in the genre, shy away from discussing the good, the bad, and the truly awful of our genre, we do ourselves a disservice. The people who can speak most eloquently about the genre choose to remain silent; we have a serious problem of “good girls don’t”, meaning that we leave the analysis of our genre to outsiders who review without a clue.
Does it really do the romance genre good when published book reviews are written by those who don’t know the genre? Does it really do the genre good when the reviews are written by those who adhere to the “see no evil” precept (they exist — bad reviews, by some, are seen as verboten, no matter what the quality of the book)?
Readers don’t care about reviews, at least not how we like to hope they do. I speak as a reviewer and reader. I find that readers often want me to validate their perceptions of a novel. They want me to give enough information to make a determination about reading or not. They also want to know what makes the story worthwhile. And — this is important — they want me to be honest. Readers know crap. And the worst thing that can happen to an author is when readers decamp en masse because an author fails them. Dishonest criticism leads to failure.
I don’t buy your argument that “99.9 percent of romance authors don’t have the luxury of taking two, three, seven, fifteen years between books, as do many of our literary cousins” because those literary cousins, by and large, aren’t making a living off their fiction. Literary authors, like genre authors, face many marketing challenges and make choices related to prolifigacy versus quality. I honestly believe that overly prolific writers sacrifice quality. I also believe that serious critics of the romance genre should talk about the fact that pumping out a gazillion books a year doesn’t offer a better experience for readers (especially if, as you say, they “don’t give a rat’s bum about quality” [I disagree]) doesn’t make for better fiction.
Is it really better to write and publish something that will be tomorrow’s memory than to put serious work into creating the best of all possible books? Even if you fail to achieve the exalted status of “classic” — a title afforded to relatively few books of any genre — isn’t it far better to strive toward the best possible examples of your genre? I think it’s time to abandon the notion that it’s just commercial fiction and quality does not matter.
Finally, there is a constant demand in romance fiction to be taken seriously. Okay. Fine. Let’s do ourselves a favor and be proactive. Serious criticism of our work is an important first step. If we don’t treat our work as important, then who will?
While I’m sure there were other errors, this would read better if it didn’t say:
But said…
Such is the difference between writing a real article and commenting in a tiny box!
I’ve written two reviews, by request, for Amazon. For Stephen King’s Lissy’s Story, and for Patricia Gaffney’s upcoming Mad Dash.
I loved both books. And I found the reviews incredibly hard to write. Articulating on paper the thrust and the shine of each of these stories, what I loved about them and why, was WORK. I don’t want to write reviews. I want to write books. That’s my job.
Saying I just want to do my job, thanks all the same, isn’t saying I don’t accept, even welcome reviews, critiques and criticisms of books. It’s saying I don’t want to take on that extra task. I craft fiction–that’s how my creative process works. I’m not wired to write analysis. And I don’t wanna.
“Also, not all romance authors read a lot of romance (some don’t even like reading any kind of fiction, especially when they’re actively “on bookâ€) in large part because we want to keep our Muse segregated from everyone else’s. I’ve found that concentrating my scant reading time on other types of fiction keeps my brain — and hopefully my writing — fresh.”
Karen’s right. I never read fiction when I’m writing — in fact I don’t know any writers who do. The fact that I usually write short stories means I read a novel — or anthology — a week between stories. As I’m currently on a novel, I haven’t read any fiction not related to what I’m doing. (It’s part of a series, so I’ve got a dozen paperbacks full of bookmarks and sticky-notes I keep poring over, but this is not reading.) When I need a break, I read a travel, science, or history magazine (always researching the next idea or setting).
When this novel is “in the can” and the short story I’m committed to immediately after is in the hands of the postal service, I plan on spending at least two weeks catching up on my TBR.
After that it will be rewrite novel to editor specs followed by at least a week of romantic suspense binging to remind my writing muscles of the tropes and structure, then I’m plunging back into my own romantic suspense WIP – which has been WIL(imbo) while I hit a few contracted deadlines.
From what I understand, my pattern differs from most writers only in degree. In the midst of my write/recharge cycle, I have neither the time nor the inclination to craft a public-consumption-quality critique of anyone else’s work. I don’t think many other writers do, either.
One of my biggest problems with this whole discussion is the assumption that reviews are written for authors, to help them with their craft, to mold the genre.
Since when?
Reviews are written for readers, to help them decide what books might interest them, to help them weed out hot button issues.
Reviews are not written for authors. Period.
::I believe that expert criticism of any genre is essential. While I decry the lack of reviews of romance fiction in mainstream media, I am angered beyond belief when the reviews are written by people who “don’t really read romanceâ€. If you do not know the mores of a genre, how can you effectively critique a work? If you are not familiar with the history and current conventions of a genre, how can you judge its place in the canon?::
Kassia, I agree with you. I got no problem with expert criticism.
But why would that expert criticism *have* to come from authors? And in fact — as has been said often enough, I think — writing the stuff doesn’t make you an expert on it. While I can certainly think of some academic-minded romance authors who tend to look at both their and others’ work from an analytical standpoint, most of us don’t come from that kind of background. We’re just storytellers. Opinionated, sure. But as Nora said — and as I’m sure those of you who’re in the authors-should-critique camp would agree — writing reviews is HARD. And frankly, most of us simply don’t have the time, energy or inclination to take on that task on top of what we’re already doing. Enough, already!:lol:
I’m not saying it’s wrong for an author to review another author’s work, I’m only giving you reasons why most of us don’t. Our reasons are as varied, and as valid, and anyone else’s reasons for not reviewing. But since, say, some of our most respected movie or theater critics don’t actually make movies or work in the theater, it seems to me that the genre could — and already does — benefit just as much from thoughtful, careful dissections of the genre by articulate, analytically-minded onlookers as it would by those of us perhaps too close to see the forest for the trees?
Just a thought.
Readers don’t care about reviews, at least not how we like to hope they do.
Kassia, this is the one sentence in your excellent post I didn’t understand. Before I decide to feel offended by it, can you explain what you meant?
Telling stories — as opposed to constructing literary doorstops — is more folk art than high art, and that’s just fine.
I just don’t think this is true, Kevin. Or perhaps it’s more that I don’t believe in the separation between “high” and “folk” art that you have posited relative to genre fiction and literary fiction. Now I’ll grant you that genre fiction *talks* about story all the time, but I think it’s one of those distinctions without difference. Basic elements of craft translate across genres and different types of creative writing, IMO — characterization, effective use of language, thematic consistency, plot, narrative style, metaphors and other tropes, etc. That some craftspeople within the different genres and writing types might emphasize some elements more than others doesn’t make this as much of an apples and oranges comparison, IMO. There are authors in Romance who use language and metaphor and theme and characterization with incredibly power, subtlety, and layering, and there are literary fiction authors who use plot and voice with astonishing power. IMO it depends more on the writer and on the culture of the community (what is valued) than on any intrinsic or definitive differences.
Robin — I have found that readers are interested in reviews for two reasons, though, like all human activity, these are not the only reasons (meaning in my experience which is, well, mine). The first is to get enough of a sense of a book to decide whether or not to buy it. For these readers, deep analysis of story structure and fiction elements isn’t critical. They aren’t always necessarily interested in the reviewer’s opinion, even. They will read the book and draw their own conclusions.
Then there are the readers who come to reviews after the fact. They want to validate their experience, disagree with the reviewer, or further the discussion. I personally like those who fall in the middle because I think more about the book that way. Re-evaluating my beliefs is a favorite thing for me. Also, I love the debate that comes from informed readers.
Karen — Writing reviews is hard. I am one of the weirdos who took book reports as a challenge, not a regurgitation. I really love digging into a story and discussing it and dissecting it. No, not all authors are suited to this, though I think that reviewing or critiquing our fiction leads to a better understanding of what makes a good romance novel. Critical thinking about the genre can only lead to good, though I understand it’s not for everyone.
As for the time, inclination thing, I dunno. I really don’t. I get what is being said, but I also think that there are a lot of really smart, well-educated romance authors who, if encouraged, could contribute to intelligent discussion about the genre. And maybe it’s a matter of semantics. There is, very often, a difference between a “review” and critical analysis. Reviews, in my mind, are written for the consumer — as Alison noted, these are the key customers of reviews (though I would argue that authors would be well-served to pay attention to what good reviewers say about their work).
Critical analysis (you equate the two concepts in your lead, but, well, I’m a contrary creature) is written for readers, students of the genre, and, yes, authors. It involves discussing the craft, the technical aspects of storytelling, historical/societal analysis, even contrast and comparison of other works. This is not stuff that the average person enjoys (though I may be wrong!), but I know that there are many authors out there who have these skills. I also think that this is the kind of thinking about our genre that hasn’t been encouraged outside a few academic venues.
I still look back to your argument that this is commercial fiction. So was Dickens. Dickens might have been the greatest embodiment of commercial fiction prior to mass production and distribution of book-length fiction. Commercial doesn’t negate the need for serious analysis.
As an aside, wouldn’t better critical analysis of romance fiction lead to better teaching of the craft? It would lead to workshops that truly analyze the elements of great romance fiction and teach the craft of writing rather than the surface of the craft (though I recognize that many workshops/presentations are limited by external forces). Still, I can dream….
Alison, bless you for making that point. When I used to write restaurant reviews, it seemed much more understood that the review was meant for the diner, not for the restaurant. The restaurant needn’t give a (marinated) fig for anything the reviewer had to say.
But too often I see certain readers blogs act as if authors have some sort of imperative to listen to their reviews and make the necessary adjustments in the work. Reviews are often DIRECTED at the authors, as if they are quarterly assessments from a boss to an employee.
When I review a book, I mean it to recommend (or not) a story to another reader. When I want to talk to an author, I write fanmail.
This article and the comments have really made me think. First, I completely agree with Alison that reviews are for the reader, not the author. And as Kassia said, romance books are neglected in the mainstream press. Considering our numbers in the industry, this is pathetic. I think it’s because reviews focus on hardcovers and it takes a long time for a romance author to have the sales numbers to warrant moving to hardcover. However, debut mysteries (for example) are commonly released in hardcover (and much lower print runs than we get in mass market.)
Case in point: PW reviews four mass markets every week (usually romance, but some suspense/mysteries that are released as PBOs.) But they review dozens and dozens of hardcovers split by genre.
In addition, romance and other authors are already writing reviews–they write them anonymously for PW.
I have no problem with author reviews. I think the problem is it will be difficult to get the mainstream press to run them.
As for writing them, ugh. I tried once (on my blog) for a debut thriller that I absolutely loved. I’ve since re-read my “review” and it’s awful (my review, not the book!) It was basically, “I loved this book.” Which I did. I don’t think I can go much beyond that
Okay, I’ve come late to this discussion, and a wonderful one it was. But I just wanted to say that as a person whose publishing life has been primarily as an editor and book reviewer, rather than as a fiction writer (although I have a tiny track record in that, too) I find that writing book reviews comes easy. Dead easy. And that is because as an editor I spend most of my time analyzing story structure for what works and what doesn’t, and asking myself why it works. Or doesn’t. So, no, reviewing is not an arcane art. But it requires exercising muscles that are very different from those engaged when one writes fiction.
I mostly agree (99.9% to be precise) that reviews are for readers, and I write mine that way, but when a writer reads a review of her work, it might be wise to keep an open mind about maybe fixing what didn’t work for the reviewer–but only if she gets that “zing” that says “Wow, she’s right, I should have caught that. How can I fix it next time?”