No, I’m not talking about all the sweets I’ve eaten for Christmas and my fear of rotting my teeth out, but morning breath. Oh come on, you know you’ve wondered about this too…you’re reading a really great romance, it’s the morning after the big love scene, the hero rolls over and tries to feel for the heroine’s tonsils with his tongue and all you can think is…ew, morning breath! But heroines never seem to have morning breath. They also always seem to taste like something wonderful…vanilla, sugar cookies, oranges and they always have an amazingly fresh, sweet scent. I admit it, I haven’t kissed many girls but truly, I don’t think this seems very realistic.
So that’s my weighty question for the day after Christmas, when you’re stuffed full of good food, rich desserts and wondering who’s going to be responsible for the dishes and picking up the bits of tinsil the dogs have shredded all over the house. How much reality do you want in your romance?
This question isn’t a new one, it comes up often in the context of condom use in romance. I’m firmly in the “if it’s contemporary, there’d better be a condom or she’s an idiot” camp, but I know a lot of people say they don’t want the fantasy of the book interrupted by the condom.
There’s not just that, though, but there’s the reality of historicals. Have you ever noticed how many authors, writing books in long ago England or Scotland, always seem to have heroines who like to bathe? Doesn’t that seem like an odd thing to have to include? But those were some unwashed times and if a reader were to think too hard on it, anyone doing the naked mattress dance together wouldn’t be too sexy because all you’d be thinking about was if she was going to be suffocated by the smell radiating from his armpits. Urgh. Too much reality, right?
And we won’t mention the reality of a hero/heroine sharing a cabin on a pirate ship…a cabin with a chamber pot. Yeah. Let’s not mention that.
So how much reality is too much reality, and when is there not enough? Do you want your heroines to bring a toothbrush and your heroes to have an emergency condom on hand every time? Or would you rather everyone taste like sugar and no STDs or accidental pregnancy exist in the land of fiction?
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I’m like you – if it’s a contemporary there better be a condom. But even if the author doesn’t write in a “condom scene” I just imagine that there is one…..unless the author later has a scene revealing to me that no condom was used (heroine muses, “If I end up pregnant it will be OK because I lurve the hero so much that I want a little part of him after he leaves me to fight terrorists, go on his dangerous undercover mission or run away because he’s a tool who has a fear of commitment”).
Then I get annoyed and book meets wall. Soundly.
Now in historicals? Ewwww, I just don’t need that much realism. Two words: dental hyigene. I don’t want to think about the fact that both hero’s and heroine’s teeth (if they have any left!) are most likely rotten. And I had never really thought about ship-board romances and chamber pots. Gee, thanks Angie. I think
I like what I call “common sense reality.” Morning breath is a reality, as you mentioned, and when people are seriously in love, it a) either doesn’t matter no matter how self-conscious one or the other of them is or b) you can write in a short snippet for the morning after where one or the both of them are sneaking off to the bathroom in order to brush their teeth in order to preserve the fantasy (or some variation thereof).
I’m definitely in the condom camp if it’s a contemporary. If anything, something like that heightens the romance for me because it’s an act of consideration. However, I will make allowances– if there’s not a condom, there better be a damn good reason.
You know, for me, it’s like so many other things having to do with writing– there’s a balance and it can all be achieved, yet at the same time, as an author, you have to resign yourself to the fact that you can’t make all the people happy all the time.
It it’s not totally jarring, I don’t mind. I’m in the ‘pro-condom’ camp with contemporary (as is my publisher — and the copy editor insisted I get some reference to disposal on the page). However, a novel is not a 24/7 accounting of what takes place, and the author chooses which events are worth of page time, hoping (at least I do) that the reader can fill in the blanks. I’m just as likely to wonder why nobody ever needs to use the bathroom upon awakening, or if there isn’t a condom, why is sex so ‘clean’? A little morning breath is one of those, “yeah, right, but no biggie” deals.
One of my ‘reality’ pet peeves is when an author DOES mention a character needing to pee and then never shows or even mentions the character having the relief moment. I hate reading with my legs crossed.
In a light contemporary, I think all of that (morning breath, silly noises, messed up hair, etc) can be played for laughs, because we all know that initial “must be perfect”-ness of a young couple trying to impress each other. This could be done in an historical, too, because you know that silly, earthy stuff happened to them. But as far as the rotting teeth, etc., it doesn’t bother me if an historical doesn’t include them, because the fact that we are alive to discuss this today means it sure didn’t hinder them! Everybody stank, hardly anyone had indoor plumbing, and people brushed their teeth with salt or something else. I think it had to be like garlic–if everyone eats it, you don’t really smell it. Then again, I love realistic historical detail, so it doesn’t ruin the story for me if it’s there.
Oh, and at the risk of being too TMI, I;ve never understood the passages where breath, bodily fluids, etc., are “sweet like honey” or strawberries or whatever. Maybe I’m just too prosaic.
I’m in the pro-condom camp, too. I read and write mostly m/m. If it’s appropriate to the time period that a condom would be in use, it definitely jars me if I don’t see one. Every last loving detail of it doesn’t need to be expounded upon, but it should be there.
I also think “ew” if someone rolls over the morning after and gets a big kiss.
I think I’m in the opposite camp of most commenters here so far.
I say leave out the condoms, the bad breath, the chamber pots, and the malodorous body emanations! I already know darn well that in real life, the heroine isn’t going to have an orgasm every time and the hero is going to blow her off to play video games next Saturday night. It’s the magical illusion I enjoy. I like it preserved, even if that means I have to turn a blind eye to the realities of life, love, and lice.
I hate condoms in stories. I know I’m in the minority. If I want to read something with all of that in it I’ll read lit fict. Not that romance doesn’t concern hard subjects, not at all, but there’s a certain amount I want in (the emotional journey) and a certain amount I want out (farting, condoms, and lack of bathing). It’s to the point now when I read a story and I see the inevitable line of the foil packet ripping and think it’s the token throwaway line. I just don’t think teens (and don’t most women already know how to prevent pregnancy? They just ignore it-I’ll look up that stat) are picking up the books and saying , “Gee, Awesome Sexy Heroine uses a condom, I need to, too.”
I think I’d not care too much if the condom wasn’t mentioned, assuming it happened – like a previous commenter until a heroine muses on ‘oh, I should have…’ – but then if it *is* mentioned I’d be annoyed if there was no reference to removal or any of the after-sex stuff that may not be the most romantic stuff, but if you’re going for that realism you need to carry it through
[...] know, the article on Romancing the Blog today made me realize something. No, not that I hate condoms in romances-I’ve know that for a [...]
One reader emailed me about one of my books–I can’t remember which one now–where I didn’t specifically mention using a condom. She was the first to do so after nine books. I don’t think many people care one way or the other, but on the OTHER hand, because I write heavy suspense RS, maybe my readers don’t have an expectation of condom use because they’re not reading me specifically *for* the romance.
I *show* condom use with characters where there’s a character reason to do so. I do not consciously exclude it, but it really depends on the scene, the characters, the circumstances, and everything else. Otherwise, it’s unmentioned and the reader can choose to sheath my hero or unsheath him. Why state every little detail? In one book, my heroine did get pregnant and they used a condom the first time and not the second. There was a specific story purpose for this (my heroine did not want kids because she didn’t want to bring children into violent world.) Being pregnant had her addressing her last internal conflict and coming to terms with the past.
In terms of reality in books, I try to keep my suspense and forensic elements as realistic as possible. But sometimes, if I need a DNA test quickly, I write in a plausible (even if not likely) scenario to get them faster. If I need them delayed, I just state the truth: it takes weeks, or months, to get DNA tests.
We suspend a lot of disbelief in romance and in suspense. I mean, how many serial killers are there REALLY in the world compared in fiction, hmm?
I always mention the condom or lack thereof. In romantic suspense, I think readers expect a bit more realism.
While I’m reading, however, I can take it or leave it. If the hero doesn’t use protection, I assume the heroine is on birth control and don’t let it bother me.
Bathing is a more necessary detail for me. If the characters have been traveling through the desert for a week, they’d better find a natural oasis and wash away some of that grit before getting romantic!
Like the majority here, I’m pro-condom in contemps, but, Terry, you can tell your copy editor I don’t need the explicit disposal. That’s where my fantasy line gets crossed
since in romance, I’m fine with leaving out the annoying if realistic details that don’t contribute to the story.
That said, I loved the excruciating detail in The Terror, a historic arctic advenuture story by Dan Simmons. That story was ABOUT the details. Knowing exactly how many layers of dirty clothing the freezing men were wearing immersed you in the world in an important way.
Jessa – yeah, I added as oblique a reference to the disposal as I could, just so there’s a mention that he left the bedroom for a moment.
However, one thing I’m seeing in all the comments is that condoms are for birth control. Frankly, I figure using them against STDs is a more responsible reason — at least I like a reference to why the characters are safe. When my kids hit college and the pill age, I darn sure made it clear that pregnancy was only a small part of the ‘danger’ out there.
I’m very big on reality and it jarrs me when it’s ignored. I just read an old Presents in which the heroine has to be rushed to the hospital with a possible miscarriage right after sex and damn, I would really have loved just a brief mention of a clean-up, because imagining the humiliation of being examined by a doctor in that condition makes me ill.
One of the reasons I like condom use, aside from the intelligence factor, is it makes a story seem more real and can also make it sexier. Just read a Linda Howard book where they deliberately eschew birth control – swoon!
[...] So please, bring a toothbrush and join in the conversation about morning breath over at RtB. [...]
I’ve used morning breath to good effect a couple of times. It’s just one of those things that to me is part and parcel of waking up beside someone
I’m neither here nor there on the condom usage, unless the book starts off with the couple using them and then doesn’t carry on, because then I’m waiting for the secret baby plot to pop up.
The thing that really gets me though, is the whole off comes the condom and it’s tied in a knot, all nice and neat. Seriously, who does that every single time, with no mess no fuss and no wiggling of fingers afterwards to get the gooey stuff off? Oh, and oral sex after a hard night of smexing… err, no thank you (now I’m going to have to go re-read everything I’ve written to make sure I didn’t have them do just that, rofl!)
I’m of the “no condom” camp. Now I’ve written it into two of my stories, but as a rule, I will purposely leave it out. OTOH, for some reason not mentioning morning breath of some sort makes me giggle, so I always do bring it up. Someone goes dashing into the bathroom first thing to keep up the illusion. Enh.
Different strokes….
I think it depends on the tone of the story. If the whole atmosphere is light and fluffy and fairy-tale-ish, then I don’t mind skipping the less fluffy realities. If there are parts of the story which are detailed realistically, though, then completely ignoring certain bits leaves an obvious hole.
I’m pro-condom in contemporaries, but not using one can be a good plot point, so I’m not going to wall-bang the book just because there’s no mention of a condom in a sex scene. And while I think the whole “Her womanhood smelled like sugared raspberries” thing is ludicrous unless played strictly for laughs, I have no problem with just not mentioning what it did smell like.
I’m a much harsher critic with historicals, though. I majored in history, emphasis medieval, and the bathing-every-day heroine always makes me eyeroll, and lowers my respect for the writer by a couple of notches.
Same with a 12th century castle where everyone has their own bedroom. Umm, no. Most people slept on pallets on the floor of the hall. The lord and lady slept in a niche in one wall, which had curtains if they were wealthy. I would love to see a medieval romance which dealt realistically with the sleeping arrangements. (And yeah, I’ll probably end up writing one of my own some day, just so there’s one out there. [wry smile])
Horses treated like cars is another glitch. You can’t gallop your horse for three days straight no matter how much danger your lover is in. A trained and athletic human can actually run farther in one day than a trained and athletic horse. People started using horses because they’re stronger, not because they’re faster. Horses aren’t faster over long distances unless used in relays — think Pony Express.
Knitting is not medieval. Samples that old which look knitted are actually made with njalbinding, which is a similar but different craft.
The average medieval lifespan being about thirty doesn’t mean most people were born, lived thirty years and dropped dead. Infant mortality was horrific until relatively recently, and all those dead babies brought the average way down.
And cetera. I think your average reader probably wouldn’t notice most of this, but IMO someone who’s writing a book about X is declaring herself to be an expert about X, and in areas where I have some expertise myself, I hold writers to a higher standard. I also assume that most writers who write about Y, where I’m not as familiar, will essentially know what they’re talking about and again, my respect for a writer goes way down if I discover later that they don’t.
As with body odors and such, I don’t really mind if details simply aren’t mentioned, so long as the flow of the story doesn’t feel ragged without them. But if something is mentioned, then I expect it to be reasonably accurate.
Angie
While I don’t necessarily stop reading a book because of it’s lack of mentioning a condom, I really appreciate contemporaries that do. I strongly disagree with anyone that believes that teens are taught good sex education in schools unilaterally. While many states have decent sex education programs, many places in the U.S. and outside of it do NOT. Moreover, I don’t know why, in the case of condom usage, that makes the scene less sexy. I use condoms and there are plenty of erotic ways to apply them. If you can’t write a good condom scene, then maybe you’re just lacking creativity. I understand sometimes it’s a deliberate choice, but if it’s not, it’s not that hard to include a condom.
As for the rest of reality in fiction, it depends. I laugh every time I read a period piece where the heroine has perfect teeth. (She might have good teeth, but perfect? Rare at best in those days.) I don’t want to know the teeth are rotting, but don’t add details that suggest the opposite of reality either.
As for the scent of things: if you think of how deadened people’s noses would have been to the everyday stench, it’s fully plausible that they’d think their partners smelled good considering they were used to the smells. Just a thought.
I think about the morning breath every single time I read a book that has morning sex in it. I’ve been a happily married woman for a really long time, and I have plenty of morning sex, but not a whole lot of morning kissing accompanies the morning sex. It’s just icky. No matter how in love or lust you are with someone. It’s easy enough to write it like that, no (sex with no mouth-to-mouth kissyface)? You can be real and still be sexy.
And I agree, the whole medieval/historical stinky thing would be a turnoff, so I’m happy to pass on that, although I’ve read several books where it’s alluded to, and done well.
I really like the stories that do mention it but if they do not mention using one I am imagining that they are. I’ve also read some books with the heroine that won’t kiss the hero because of morning breath and I don’t think I could kiss someone without brushing my teeth.
See, this is why I like paranormal and SF in my romance.
You just come up with technology or something supernatural that fixes those problems.
so i always thought morning breath was GROSS, and i’d notice it in books and such as well. but my current boyfriend is insane, such that he basically finds anything and everything about me (including burping, farting, and morning breath
) charming/sexy/cute, and he insists on kissing me in the morning and that he doesnt mind my breath. so now, i guess i can excuse the lack of explanation in most books that way–if they find each other SO sexy, maybe they just ignore the ickiness of MB like they would ignore a pimple on their lover’s back. also, when you’re worn out from a night of loving, who really wants to get out of the warm bed to brush teeth?
definately with the pro-condom folks up there–if they don’t use one, i wonder why, i wonder when the baby plotline’s gonna show up, i wonder if they’ve EVER HEARD OF STDs. jeesh.
Great post!
I’ve never understood the very blurred line between what is okay and not okay regarding fantasy/reality in romance novels (and I’ve written 10 of them!), especially in historicals. From what I’ve read, people weren’t very clean 150 years ago, bathing maybe once a week if they were lucky. All right, so there was a lot more involved to taking a bath than just turning on a faucet like we do today, but yuck.
I also say you’ve got to have those condoms. People in romance novels today often are in bed together within a few hours of meeting. I’m not sure they even know each other’s full names, much less if they’re carrying any infections or viruses!
Regarding morning breath, when you’re first in love and horny as heck there is no such thing as morning breath LOL. You just ignore it and get to the fun stuff!
As far as condom use, I like to see it addressed especially so younger readers have it emblazed in their minds that if they have sex there better be protection but I don’t freak if it isn’t. It’s fiction I’m reading after all.
I want more fear of STDs and less fear of pregnancy. I don’t mind the condom, but due to too much romance reading, I don’t miss it if it’s not there in a contemporary.
I want a passing nod to hygiene pre-sex, and no racing to the shower afterwards to clean up (as if sex is dirty). It can be messy, sure, but don’t present it like it’s dirty.
I know a lot of folks who don’t suffer lethal morning breath, so it doesn’t pull me out of the story. But if the couple spent the night going down on each other, then sleep on it, then wake up and kiss, I’m like, ‘woah!’
TMI? Impossible.
I write fantasies, but I decided in advance that any sex scene would take the possibility of pregnancy into mind. My pet peeve is when the hero and heroine have sex without ever thinking of that possibility or worrying about it afterwards (assuming they didn’t use precautions).
So in the one and only sex scene I did write, the hero doesn’t want to go for actual penetration because he’s concerned the heroine will conceive (it helps that they live in a very conservative society and he’s considerate as well as practical).
If I write a sequel, I think I’ll mention primitive condoms. Weren’t those made out of lamb intestines or something?
I can go either way, but I think it depends on the story/characters. Some stories where the hero/heroine is sweet, considerate, timid – I kind of expect a reference, but for the hard and hot ones it doesn’t register if there is no mention and sometimes does (especially if the scene is intense) when it is.
As for historicals, I was okay without bathing references (I filled in the blanks myself) until one of my favorite authors spoke about not writing scenes where there’s south of the border action because of the whole non-bathing issue. So now, I kinda like to know they love the bath.
Well, I’m with you about condom use in contemporaries. It better be there or I’m going to have issues with the heroine’s intelligence. Of course, I’ve read some really good contemporaries where the action is so intense the condom is forgotten, which I would assume is realistic, but that omission is dealt with after the act. I’m not too sure about the morning breath/toothbrush issue.
As for historicals, too many details about personal hygiene, or the lack thereof, might just ruin the story. So, tempering the reality is definitely necessary.
I dunno…I think I might fall somewhere in the middle. I also fall into the “just leave it out” category sometimes as well.
I don’t want to start reading about morning breath that smells like sweaty butt or sex fluids that taste like chicken…but peaches and cinnamon? Um, no. I’m more likely to be pulled out of a story by blatant falsehoods than by omitted truths or even gritty reality. I’d rather just not read about it all and make up my own reality than read something completely WTF phony.
I think there’s a danger of writing modern sensibilities into historical novels. Medieval man or woman wouldn’t have been brainwashed with mouth-wash commercials and probably thought of morning breath as a fact of life. On the other hand, we’re writing for a modern audience with different expectations so some compromises are in order. You see that in the way speech is handled ( historicals these days are as likely to use modern speech as period speech) as well as mannerisms.
Keep reality out of it! I find myself wondering if girls back then (in historical romance novels) shaved their legs. But I really would rather it be sort of dream-like. I definitely don’t want to consider morning breath. Although, haven’t you ever noticed how love can keep you from noticing the stinky morning breath. Or maybe that’s just me…
L,
http://www.atlastmylove.com
As a reader,
I don’t want to hear about condoms, morning breath, periods, going to the bathroom, or anything else not moving the relationship forward.
Heck, I read medieval romances.
I don’t want to hear that my heroine is 14 years old
and will likely die in childbirth
by the age of 30 either.
Talk about a downer.
As an author,
I figure
my job isn’t to teach
my very intelligent readers
about safe sex or basic hygiene.
My job is to provide a fantasy
they can escape to.
Actually, I thought my hero’s concern about not impregnating the heroine did move their relationship forward. She was very experienced, but he was the first man who was willing to stop short of penetration because of the consequences to her.
I think if he had stopped to get condoms, she would have felt the same way – touched that he cared enough about her to undergo the inconvenience.
[...] James did a great post at Romancing the Blog a few days ago about reality in romances. “How is it,” she asked, “that the hero [...]
I’m with Leah, I think the morning “imperfections” can be played for laughs. I can also see the humor in a situation with the heroine dragging TP on her heel as she walks out of the bathroom, After all, if Cary Grant and Katherine Hepburn can pull it off, it must be okay!
I’m very in favor of condoms in contemporaries. Several people have said “I don’t want condoms, I don’t want morning breath”, but I don’t think those necessarily go in the same category. There’s a huge difference between glossing over the chance of getting someone seriously sick or forcing them to either have an abortion or a child; and glossing over gross smells or something like that. I also wouldn’t want to read a story where, say, a couple have sex while one of them is driving: I just couldn’t ignore the huge risks they’re taking, even if it would make the story more fun. For me, when the characters don’t use a condom and they haven’t been together long enough for diseases and babies to be nonissues, it raises a big red flag: maybe they’re too insecure to think for even a second before jumping on top of each other? Maybe they’re too short-sighted to even consider possible consequences? Whatever it is, it brings me out of the story and makes me worry about the unpleasant, real-life problems the author probably wanted me to ignore. Sure, mentioning the condom brings up the fact that STDs and unwanted pregnancies can happen, but I’d rather know that they can happen in the story but won’t happen to these characters, than worry about the characters probably needlessly.