The Value of the Underdog

I've noticed a disturbing trend in my own reading lately. Maybe it’s just me, but I’ve found that the last several romances in a row that I’ve picked up I’ve promptly put down.

At first, I began to panic. Was I becoming jaded? Immune to the wonders of falling in love that romance novels offer?

That is not a good state of mind for a romance writer to be in, let me tell you!

After much thought, however, I’ve figured out the problem: in all those novels I abandoned, the fact that the hero and heroine were going to fall in love was obvious. Of course you’re probably saying, “Well duh. It’s a romance.” Yes, it’s a romance, and I certainly had an expectation going into them that the love was going to happen.

But I don’t want to know it within the first chapter.

You see, in each of these books, the hero was the most handsome, the most rugged, the most virile. And the heroine was – you guessed it – the most beautiful, the most feminine, the most ravishing. And even worse, each one was immediately taken with the other’s otherworldly beauty.

Alright ... SNORE!

In situations like these it’s so obvious that the hero and heroine are going to fall in love that (to me, anyway), it’s not even worth bothering to read. There are no hurdles for them to overcome. There are no unexpected moments of tenderness. There’s nothing but lust.

What I like in either a hero or a heroine is the underdog quality. That there is an element of having to surmount some inherent obstacle – whether internal (looks, popularity, etc.) or external (conflict, social status, etc.) doesn’t matter. There just has to be some kind of roadblock there.

Take Lisa Kleypas, for example. In Blue Eyed Devil she writes a damaged heroine. Not only has she been physically and emotionally abused by her estranged husband, she’s also not a run-of-the-mill, cookie-cutter bombshell. Our hero, rugged, handsome, built like a brick ... well, you know ... definitely does not normally go for this kind of girl.

Yet it’s our heroine whom he can’t live without ... sigh ... giggle. That makes for great falling-in-love!

Here’s the thing about romances: we, as readers, expect the characters to fall in love. That’s the whole point of the genre, isn’t it? What makes the difference between the really memorable, giggle-inducing novels and the obvious snore-fests is that the characters themselves don’t expect to fall in love.

You’d think that’s obvious. Yet as evidenced by my last several failed attempts at getting through romances – it’s not.

Take another example. Love it or hate it, you can’t deny that the Twilight series is extremely successful. And I know I’m not the only one that was glued to my copy of the novel, obsessed with Bella and Edward’s love for one another – or, more accurately, Edward’s love for Bella.

That is where the underdog quality comes in. Bella is clearly not the most beautiful creature ever to walk the planet. And with a hero like Edward, of course Bella’s not going to expect him to fall in love with her.

But he does. And he falls hard. And we all giggled and sighed and hyperventilated along with her precisely because she did not expect it.

It’s a lesson we romance writers (published or aspiring) can all take: don’t make both your characters the best-looking. They should not both be rich or from similar social standings. There has to be some kind of flaw in one of them. Some reason that would surprise either one or both of them when they do fall in love. As we readers expect them to.

Make your story memorable. Make one of your characters an underdog.

Just don’t make both of them underdogs, because then you’re back to square one.

Being Confident in Your 3rd Person Omniscient Voice

Whether this is a well-known fact or not, I don’t know. But if you didn’t know this already, then here it is: writing from the perspective of third-person omniscient is the easiest way to write. It is the most versatile, the most flexible. And it is the most widely used. 

This is the perspective of the disembodied, all-knowing narrator. The third-person omniscient, or the 3PO, can jump from character to character. The 3PO is neither a he, nor a she, and yet is both. And most importantly, the 3PO does not need to justify how he/she/it knows what a character is thinking.

Why, then, do many authors writing from the 3PO point of view – or the 3PO POV, if you will (ha ha, gotta love those abbreviations; don't worry, that's the end of that!) – fail to take advantage of this inherent leniency by justifying their characters' thoughts?

What do I mean by that? Well, take for example the following passage written by a well-known, well-loved author of romantic suspense (who I won't disrespect by naming):

He smiled. It was the kind of smile that made her want to take a couple of steps back, turn and run for her life. But that would be the worst thing she could do, she told herself. She knew enough about animal behaviour to know that predators only got more excited by fleeing prey.

Did you see it? The justification?

At the least, that little she told herself is unnecessary. We already know we’re reading this character’s thoughts. We already know she’s thinking: that would be the worst thing I could do! That’s the beauty of the 3PO point-of-view. You don’t have to remind us that your thoughts are really your characters' thoughts.

Unfortunately, the she told herself is also distracting. One minute the reader is snuggled up comfortably in the character's head, and the next they're ripped away by that small, seemingly innocuous justification.

Worse still, it suggests a lack of confidence by the writer. It may be unintentional, but it’s there: the need to justify omniscient words by adding to it the context of a character’s relative position.

The she told herself is entirely redundant. The paragraph would exist nicely without it:

He smiled. It was the kind of smile that made her want to take a couple of steps back, turn and run for her life. But that would be the worst thing she could do. She knew enough about animal behaviour to know that predators only got more excited by fleeing prey.

If you’re writing from the third-person omniscient viewpoint – and it’s likely that you are, or will at some point in your career – have confidence that your omniscient knowledge, your omniscient words and your omniscient thoughts can stand on their own. 

You don’t need to remind readers that what you’re thinking is really what the character is thinking. We already know it. And if we’ve read more than ten pages into your book (the general make-or-break point for any novel), then chances are we trust your insider information and your judgment. We know you’ll translate your characters’ thoughts and feelings faithfully, and that you’ll bring us through to the story’s end.

We trust you to speak for your characters. You just need to trust yourself.

Historical Accuracy: Is it Okay to Bend the Truth?

Last night one of my favourite movies was playing on TV: Braveheart.

I know, surprise, surprise, huh? A romance novelist who writes Highland historicals loves Braveheart. Shocking!

Every time I watch this film, though, it gets me thinking about the topic of historical accuracy and, more specifically, when it's okay to disregard.

I'm not going to be a purist and pick apart the entire directorial interpretation. But what I am going to make mention of is the fact that in the movie, the Scots are wearing the belted plaid.

Kilts and plaids such as this were not worn in Scotland (or anywhere, really), at this time.

I read somewhere (exactly where escapes me, and isn't important anyway), that Mel Gibson and his colleagues decided to incorporate the plaid into the film to distinguish Wallace's Scots from the English soldiers during the busy and dramatic fight scenes. I am sure also that audience expectation played into that decision somewhat. After all, what is a good, Scottish movie without a dose of some good, Scottish plaid?

I face the same problem when I write my novels: I create stories in time periods where kilts were unknown. Yet I've put them in anyway. I am not alone. In fact, the entire genre of Highland historical romance relies heavily on this inaccuracy. Look at any book cover and you'll find plaid. And chances are the book you've picked up is set sometime before the last half of the 16th century, when kilts were known to have been worn.

I write my heroes in those sexy skirts because my readers expect it. I write my heroes in those sexy skirts because, heck, I expect it!

Of course the perfectionist in me worries that I'm doing a disservice to my readers. Am I selling out? Am I lying to them?

The rational part of me soothes my conscience, however. Here's the way I see it: for those of us who know the joys of historical romance, reading offers escape. It offers a chance to slip into a fantasy and get lost there. And whether it's historically accurate or not, our Scottie hunks are tartained to the waist (a shirt above that is optional).

It is known well enough that kilts were not a part of Highland dress until the late 1700s. The literature is out there. Highland historical romance novels have never been, and will never be, considered academia.

Therefore I don't need to feel bad that I'm indulging in a fantasy (read: pure lie). So the Scots of ages past didn't actually wear kilts. The Scots of ages past probably weren't as smooth and clean as most of the models on our covers.

But the Scots of our history-obsessed, hopelessly romantic imaginations are. And I don't think any of us Highland-loving lassies care one whit about what was historically accurate and what wasn't.

So I say: bring on the kilts!

Update: A Noble Arrangement (Book 1 of the Douglas Clan Series)

I am so excited to share an excerpt of my next project. I am currently working on A Noble Arrangement (working title - I'm still undecided on this one), which is book one of the Douglas Clan series. Each of these books will be stand-alone, but will feature recurring characters. I've got book two swirling around in my head right now! : )

For an excerpt of A Noble Arrangement, visit my Goodreads page here.

This series presents a new challenge to me: it is the most historically involved writing I've done to date. The Black Douglases, and their feud with King James II (aka Fiery Face for the large, red birthmark on his cheek) actually existed and are well-documented in history. I'm finding that structuring a fiction story around actual, historical figures presents a difficult, yet rewarding, challenge. I can't wait to see how it turns out!

Thoughts? First impressions? I'd love to hear from you!

Cheers for now,
Veronica.

The Heroes We Love

I picked up Smooth Talking Stranger by Lisa Kleypas from the library, and in about 1.75 days I was done. Dishes went unwashed, laundry unfolded and kitty litter boxes unscooped as I giggled and sighed, page after page, over the best kind of falling in love.

Or, at least I thought it was the best kind of falling in love.

Imagine my utter astonishment when I came across a two-star review on Goodreads for this novel (click here to read full review). This reader did not like the hero and how he fell head-over-heels in love with a heroine who, for matters of self-preservation, denied her own true feelings for him.

I was aghast. I was agog. My jaw hit the floor! She didn’t like this book?!

Now, in no way am I saying this reviewer was wrong. We readers are all entitled to our own opinions about the books we read. It just so happens that this reader cannot stand a hero who chases after the heroine. She makes that very clear. And I have nothing against that. Good for her for knowing her mind.

This review, however, was a startling reminder that ... we don’t all like the same things. Believe it or not, our tastes in hero/relationships are as diverse as we are from each other.

One tends to forget that once in a while.

For me, I absolutely love an alpha-male hero who falls inexplicably, head-over-heels in love with the heroine. Especially if she’s not your typical, extraordinarily beautiful type. There is something so giggle-inducing about an ordinary girl who cannot for the life of her figure out why this out-of-her-league man has become so besotted with her. But he is. And he's not ashamed of it.

My favourite romance novel is Perfect by Judith McNaught. In it, hardened, cynical playboy movie star Zach Benedict falls in love with pretty-but-not-modelesque, small-town teacher Julie Matheson. And he falls hard! Seriously, my copy needs to be replaced, I’ve read it so many times.

And now that I think about it, this is similar to the scenario I wrote in my Highland Loyalties series. Jane is by no means the most beautiful girl to ever matriculate out of England. But handsome Highland warrior Robbie MacGillivray falls unquestioningly in love with her. There is no "does he/doesn’t he" when it comes to his love for Jane. He does. Absolutely he does!

I applaud this reviewer of Smooth Talking Stranger for speaking her mind, and of course I respect her right to feel differently than I do. This was just a startling reminder that we don’t all like the same things.

So I put the question out there: what type of hero do you love the best? Do you prefer your hero, or your heroine to do the chasing? Or is there another scenario you best like to read about? And what are your favourite books which best illustrate this?

Would love to hear your thoughts!

Author Interview with Romance Lives Forever

Hello all,

A quick post to let everyone know that my latest author interview with Romance Lives Forever, blog of fellow romance author Kayelle Allen, has been posted.

Check me out here for details on how to win a free kindle copy of my latest novel, Legend of the Mist.

Cheers,
V.

Adding Detail to Historical Romance

Last night I finished writing a guest post which (hopefully) will appear in December on 4covert2overt - A Day in the Spotlight. The piece was about putting detail into your historical romance novels and making sure that a) you’ve got enough in there, and b) it’s accurate.

I won’t rehash the article, but after it was done I decided I want to say a bit more on the subject. What prompted me to write the post was a reader review on Amazon for Legend of the Mist (my latest novel, for those of you that don’t know). In it, the reader said: “the author took quite a bit of information from the ancient times and made it relevant for me.”

I’m thrilled to hear stuff like that, because obviously that is the most challenging part of historical romance: making it believable and relevant. I’ve had comments and reviews like this before, where the authenticity of my historical detail is praised.  I’ve even had someone remark that they thought I was an expert in the genre.

No, I’m not sounding my own horn, I actually have a point. And here it is …

I’m not an expert. Not even close.

What you see in my novels is the result of a combination of critical thinking and a lot of Googling. And here’s the other thing … it’s not a difficult skill to master; anyone can do it.

Take, as an example, Legend of the Mist. In it, the brochs of ancient Scotland are a key feature. I describe not only what they were used for, but also how they were constructed in enough detail that they are easy to visualize.

But believe it or not, up until February, 2013 when I read Monica McCarty’s The Chief (in which a broch was featured) I had no real concept of what a broch was. All I knew was that it was an ancient stone structure that had fallen out of use by the time of Robert the Bruce. What that structure was for and what it looked like I had no idea.

It could just as easily have been a commode as a castle for all I knew!

To find out, I Googled “what is a broch,” and (besides the occasional image tagged with a misspell of “brooch”) I got enough information to describe one. Only then did I decide to add it to my story. If I hadn’t read The Chief there would probably be no broch in Legend of the Mist.

I can give another example from my first novel, Bride of Dunloch. In it, I had to figure out how Jane would have boiled water alone in the woods to care for a wounded enemy warrior named Robbie. And, of course, the first image that popped into my head was a cast iron cauldron hanging over a fire on a tripod.

This is where critical thinking came in handy. I had to ask: how realistic would that have been? Did peasants use tripods? What about hunters and nomads? It’s unlikely that tiny, feminine Jane would have snuck a heavy tripod from Dunloch castle out into the woods in the middle of the night.

It was then that I realized I would need another way for her to boil water.

So I looked it up by Googling “how did people cook in ancient times?” And not long after I found the specifics of stone boiling, where stones heated by fire were dropped in pots of water to create a boil.

There’s no secret to knowing that kind of detail. It’s nothing more than knowing when to ask the questions.

This is an easy skill to acquire if you are a writer of historical fiction. What I do, anyone can do. When you’re in the writing stage the internet should be your best friend. Assess your manuscript with a critical eye and determine where detail is required (hint: lots of places – the more the better). Then look the detail up to ensure it’s accurate. This is what will make your historical novel stand out and resonate with authenticity.

Remember: your readers are investing a lot of time and effort in you and your historical romance. What better way to show them you appreciate it by investing time in the detail that they want to see?