A career nurse who'd spent much of her 40-year professional life in psychiatric units, Riley turned to creative writing class as a hobby. And when she started writing historical fiction, although her plots were often charged - her first novel, Yamilla, is based on the story she remembers her grandmother telling, of a woman brought from Africa in slavery - she did so, she says, not as a political statement. "I wanted to write about people who look like me," she says.

Originally, according to an interview in the Taunton Gazette, a publisher turned her down, saying "black people don't read." But 20 years on, Riley and a host of successful African-American romance writers have had the last laugh. Despite attitudes like that of the racist piblisher, the 80s, when Riley started writing, was a fertile time for African-American romance. Authors like Elsie Washington and Rochelle Alers transformed "urban" niche fiction into a wider world of romantic fiction that included upwardly-mobile characters and plot-lines that resembled those of the typically affluent world of traditional romantic fiction. A boom in historicals followed soon thereafter. Since 1990, Riley has written 15 romances, with heroines ranging from women working in the 19th century whaling industry to contmeporary Iraq war wives.

Her latest novel deals, as she says, with "what makes a man stray and desert his wife and family," although, like many writers of the most dramatic romance, her own was stable: she was married to her husband for fifty years and says the relationship was very happy. Riley's is a good story to read right now for a number of reasons: it's always heartening to hear about the persistent health of the romance industry as publishing struggles - and I for one like that it's forcing some people to take this much-maligned genre more seriously, even if only as a major financial player. Then too, those who watch this sort of thing have cottoned to the fact that romance themes echo cultural shifts, and as much as the solid sales of romances dealing in factually-based African-American history, we should look to the fact that an author of 91 is more than capable of making good numbers and finding a wide readership. Inspiring? Definitely - but let's also hope the indomitable Ms. Riley gives confidence to plenty of others, and is not a one-off.

Black Novelist Romances Readers With Characters They Can Relate To [LA Times]
Author Mildred Riley Believes In Keeping Fantasies Alive [Taunton Gazette]

Related: R.I.P. Elsie Washington

The "Plot": Our heroine, Meg Culver, is a particular doormat: taken advantage of by her two older sisters, mousy, domestic Meg has been caring for their dying mother for the past few years. Now that their mother has died, Meg decides to stay on and be housekeeper for the new owners, since she doesn't want to leave. Mrs. Culver, the new tenant, has an obnoxious doctor son who treats Meg horribly. Then he offers her a job as a receptionist and an apartment to go with it, even though he continues to treat her with complete contempt. Sometimes he makes her act as housekeeper for his mother or grandmother. All the while he squires glamorous women around, who occasionally show up and insult Meg. Then he fires her. But! Surprise! It's because he has a new job for her - as his wife! Yay!

The Qualifications: "It would behoove you to mind your words, would it not?" he reminds her after they meet. He's always very concerned that she remember her "place."

"He didn't know why he thought of her sometimes; she was really nothing to look at."

She said shyly, 'The flat is lovely, Professor Culver.' And when he grunted in reply, she added, 'I think I shall like working for you; I hope...I'll do my best.'
'You won't stay long if you don't!'

When he comes to her flat to find she's adopted a stray kitten, and borrowed a book from the office to learn more about his work:

"I wasn't aware that I'd made you free of the books in my consulting room," he said softly...he had the look of an angry man...He said in the same soft voice, "And what is that bedraggled creature doing here, filthy dirty and no doubt flea-ridden?" His black eyes narrowed and his mouth had a nasty curl to it. "Haven't you got a little above yourself, my girl? Helping yourself to my books, bringing verminous animals into this house..." He was getting really cross; it was time to stop him before he was in a real rage.

When his glamorous girlfriend drops in on Meg uninvited: "We thought we'd do a bit of slumming, my dear...My god, can you cook, too? Ralph said you were a pre-war paragon with no ambition. We'll just sit down while you slave over a hot stove."

When he takes her out for tea: "The waitress offered her a great tray of rich cream cakes which she eyed with a childish pleasure which her companion, did she but know it, found vaguely pathetic."

While she's working as a housekeeper:

"There you are. Where have you been?"
"Packing for your mother, Professor. I came to turn off the lights, but perhaps you would do that when you go to bed?'
"Prim," he said nastily, and "A poker down your back," and he kissed her hard.

How We Know He's Actually a Good Guy: He's "a wonderful son" and apparently a really competent doctor.

The End:

He kissed her quiet. "Later - I've other plans for the moment."
"Oh well," said Meg happily. "If you say so."

Advantages: Treats heroine like a servant the entire book, never lets her address him by his first name.

Handicaps: Lack of rapiness.

Earlier: Worst 80's Romance Hero, Contestant #1: Jay Courtland, Rules Of The Game

There's no sign of a bandana under that tri-cornered hat, but we still have no desire to be one of the wenches on Bret Michaels' Rock of Love Pirate Ship.


Apparently Brody Jenner has set sail as well. Our fantasy: that he and Bret will strike up a bromance and spare the womenfolk on board.


There's really nothing wrong with this photo of NFL player Will Demps, but we can't stop thinking about Bret and Brody, and it's hard to see through the tears.


It's cool that the editors decided Lance Bass being gay doesn't disqualify him from being a one of the "Hottest Bachelors," but his pose clearly says, "sorry ladies, can not have!" We've never seen a man pulling away from a woman on the cover of a romance novel, but if female readers are snatching up novels about gay male romance, why not have a genre devoted to women lusting after homosexual former boy band members?


Earlier: What Women Want: Gay Male Sex

The hot new craze in romance novels (which, as any economist/pundit/chart-wonk can tell you, is the barometer for mapping cultural/political/economic change) is "m/m romance": dude love, for women, by women. (Although writing under studiously gender-neutral names.) According to the Baltimore City Paper, publishers warmed up to this notion when they saw the popularity of Brokeback Mountain with female audiences, and, always looking for a new sub-genre, started encouraging these less traditional story lines.

Although these romances deal in standard love tropes, by necessity (especially in historicals) they tend to involve more realistic situations and setbacks. Here's the description of Trangressions:

1642, England David Caverly's strict father has brought home the quiet, puritanical Jonathan Graie to help his dreamer of a son work the family forge. With war brewing in Parliament, the demand for metal work increases as armies are raised. The indolent and deceitful David Caverly is bored by his father's farm and longs to escape, maybe to join the King's Army, mustering at Nottingham. David finds himself drawn to Jonathan, and after a passing cavalry trooper seduces the beautiful David and reveals his true nature, he determines to teach Jonathan what he's learned. When David is forced to leave the farm, and the boys are separated by mistrust and war, they learn the meaning of love and truth as they fight their way across a war-torn country, never thinking they'll ever see each other again.

Then there is theBrokeback-like genre of straight-living men - often friends, seemingly often police officers - struggling with their sexuality and forbidden love. These are not, as a rule, light stories, even when the subject would seem to be standard historical fodder. In Alex Beercroft's False Colors (no relation to the u-including Georgette Heyer romp of the almost-same name), the aforementioned naval romance, there's more anguish than romping, blouse-ripping and shanties. Says the City Paper,

The pivotal points in the story are markedly different from an m/f romance. First, Alfie admits his attraction to John, who hasn't yet faced his own orientation, and John is embarrassed and demonstrably repulsed. Fifty pages later, John has his first homosexual experience; it is anonymous and disturbing for John, more realistic than romantic. As the climax of the book builds, John is asked to choose between his career and Alfie. It's 1762, and John can either become the captain of his own ship or he can risk the gallows by unsuccessfully defending Alfie against sodomy charges.

Is it too "real" for the mass market? Borders and Barnes & Noble both shelved the novel in the less-trafficked GLBT section, and had Amazon (trying to re-group from its whole 'not rating LGBT titles' fail) not given it a boost, it might have faded away. Instead, it became a bestseller. One can only imagine that in time the genre will evolve to include lighter romances, in which the "issue" of same-sex love doesn't need to serve as a dramatic lynch-pin to the same extent, and the authors can simply have fun with characters who happen to be of the same sex.

But then, as the article's author points out, the genre may appeal because it deals with classic "forbidden love": romances depend on tension and conflict - see the popularity of the societal restrictions in Regency-set novels - and we've pretty much exhausted the boss-marries-secretary-for-convenience trope. Beercroft also says she welcomes a chance to play with traditional gender roles: "Unlike f/f which has the same advantage of equality, m/m allows the writer to use characters who are not mired in feminine gender roles either. So it has a big element of escapism to it, plus the advantage of two gorgeous heroes for the price of one."But maybe there's more to it than that: I have several (straight, female) friends who prefer gay male porn to the kind "aimed" at them; it's quite possible that authors like Beercroft are onto something. The book's popularity would suggest as much. And despite some people's surprise at women writing on the subject for women, there's a funny symmetry to it: it's an open secret that there's long tradition of gay men writing traditional romance under pseudonyms. As one friend (who's done just this) wrote me, "why should we have to categorize who can write what? A good writer can find readers, period - and why should this subject be "niche?" At the end of the day, it's just a romance."

Zipper Rippers [Baltimore City Paper]

In an extremely, ahem, thorough discussion of the recent "Love as the Practice of Freedom" conference - devoted to romance fiction and American culture - author Hillary Rettig stakes a claim for romance novels as a force for revolution! Romance writers have long fought for respect in a world and an industry that frequently ignores the genre's leaps in quality, in commitment to female empowerment, and progressive sentiments. But the fact is, that romance increasingly demands to be taken seriously: a quarter of all books sold are romantic fiction, a number that's not dropping with the Dow. It is, as the author puts it, not merely a reflector of the times, but "an important transmitter of values." As such, Romance Writers of America's decision to recognize GLBT-themed romance fiction is significant. Rettig would suggest that the fight for legitimacy really comes down to an ingrained sexism that sees the genre's focus on women, and on emotion, as fundamentally opposed to the masculine logic that characterizes good writing - those "emotionally-satisfying and optimistic endings" that bring so much comfort are offensive to a pragmatic sensibility.

But just recognizing romance as a legit genre's not enough, says Rettig: romance is revolutionary! As she puts it,

Perhaps it's because romance, love and sex are among our most potent avenues for self-knowledge, self-expression, self-liberation, and societal liberation. Done right, these activities erode barriers and boundaries, both within us and between ourselves and others, and therefore pose a direct threat to the fear-based, control-obsessed "strict father" model.

Basically, what she's saying is, love is the answer. And people are threatened by it.

While the rhetoric seems a leetle overblown, we're not quite ready to embrace the genre as a whole as a force for revolution - there's a lot to be said for sheer escapism, especially in trying times, and not all authors want the burden of revolution foisted upon them - it's clear that this conference was onto something. A lot of serious people dismiss romance as trashy and prurient, and they're invested in that idea. But it's not a coincidence that I and plenty of smart, well-read women I know turn to a romance on occasion for escapism - and check out the supremely awesome "Smart Bitches, Trashy Books" if you don't believe me. No, that doesn't mean bodice-ripping and "sexy abduction" or even saintly single dads. But it does mean a happy ending. Some people assume that because an ending is a forgone conclusion, there's no point in the journey. But anyone who's ever seen a cliche-ridden needlepoint pillow can tell you that's crazy talk. Says the author,

Now, if progressives and radicals would only incorporate more of the ideals and values of romance in their lives and work. It shouldn't be that hard: after all, the romantic revolutionary meme is ancient and powerful.

Cue Rahm Emmanuel in pirate shirt.

The Eroticization of Equality And Social Justice [HuffPo]
Smart Bitches, Trashy Books [Official Site]

• Nadya Suleman, the newly-famous mother of 14, has hired an agent. Nadya says she hopes to become a TV childcare expert. • A new study has found that the context in which women recover memories of their childhood sexual abuse can greatly effect the authenticity of those memories. • Authorities in Egypt have been forced to address the rising rates of sexual harassment in Cairo, what was once considered one of the safer mega-cities in the world. • A woman from New Jersey has launched a website, 52Weeks2FindHim.com, to help in her husband hunt. Neenah Pickett has been on several dates with men who contacted her online, but says she rules out anyone who sends her a picture of themselves without their shirt. • Women with higher levels of a hormone produced midway through pregnancy have a higher risk of developing postpartum depression, study says. • A recent study has found that, among high school biology, chemistry, and physics students, there is a noticeable bias against female teachers. • Canadian researchers have developed a new tool to screen for breast cancer, which they believe may help doctors better tailor treatment to individual patients. • Authorities say that a kindergartner found a stash of Oxycontin in her pants that had allegedly been hidden there by her live-in uncle. He is being charged with possession and reckless endangerment. • Screw astrology! In Japan the hot new sham science is blood typing. Matchmakers, kindergartens, and companies are all using blood types to determine compatibility. Unsurprisingly, the theory was first imported to Japan from Nazi race ideologies in the 1930s. • The Royal College of Obstetricians and Gynaecologists and the British Fertility Society have issued a joint statement that warns women against freezing their eggs for "lifestyle reasons" on moral grounds. • Doctors (different ones, we assume) have issued a warning against wearing large earrings because they could potentially damage earlobes, leaving "unsightly" scars. • A trial is scheduled to open Wednesday in a lawsuit filed eight years ago against Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus over animal abuse claims. • A leading biologist has described blushing as one of the "biggest gaps in evolutionary theory." Unable to determine any solid reason for blushing, scientists theorize that it may have been a deterrent against lying, designed to favor the most honest among us. • The now-defunct strip club Scores has left behind a treasure trove of cheap wine, marked down to 97% of its original price. • New research has indicated that a strong jawline is one of the telltale signs that a women will be unfaithful. • In response to the lame damsels in distress that populate romance novels, writer Andrea Pickens has created a trilogy about three kick-ass female spies. • Science has brought us one step closer to our all-women utopia! For the first time, developmental biologists have turned adult cells into egg and sperm cell precursors. • An elderly couple from Washington have passed away after 62 years of marriage, a mere six hours apart. (I haven't seen it yet, but I think there's a Notebook reference to be made here). • Historians have found the diary of a Victorian S&M slave Hannah Cullwick. The 19th-century notebook explicitly documents the sexual relationship between Hannah and her master Arthur Munby. They believe that Hannah turned down the opportunity to become a Victorian lady, preferring instead to continue living as Arthur's slave. • 

Square-jawed heirs to fortunes and self-made moguls are a staple of the romance novels, but recent shenanigans have tarnished the tycoon's image. Says one Mills & Boon editor, "The hero has to own the company, build it up themselves through strength and integrity. They are not answerable to anybody. The key to their success is they made it themselves. You never see characters who've got something for nothing." Although writers will probably take a hiatus from captains of industry, she adds that after a time, there may be an opportunity for redemption stories: "They can lose everything but they have to get everything back."

Romantic heroes have always been subject to trends; apparently ER's popularity launched a generation of dashing doctors. The latest leading men? Rugby players. In fact, Mills & Boon has partnered with the Rugby Football Union for a series of officially-sanctioned rugby romances. As The FT points out, "this is a sport untainted so far by the sex scandals that have plagued the football scene." To say nothing of Wall Street!

Romatic Heroes [Financial Times]

Reporter Lucinda Dyer spoke with Borders romance buyer Sue Grimshaw, who claims: "A clinch is never passé, but it is always evolving. A tastefully done clinch is a must-have for debut authors." Editorial director of Avon books, Carrie Feron, says: "We're pro-clinch at Avon. Clinches are important when readers don't recognize the name of the author, but it doesn't have to be the clinch of 20 years ago." Pocket books executive VP and publisher Louise Burke explains, "While we still use the clinch to indicate a sexy romance, we always try and make it fresh with color and type."

I went through a historical romance phase, stuff like Mischief, by Amanda Quick, the pen name of Jayne Ann Krentz. The synopsis is rather typical: "Innocent but intrepid" Imogen Waterstone enlists the aid of the fearsome and "cold-blooded" Earl of Colchester in her "dangerous pursuit of justice and revenge." But thankfully, the cover doesn't have some dude in breeches grasping at a generic redhead. I found out about the book from a review in a ladymag; I'm sure I never would have read the story — which was a frolicky, completely enjoyable beach read — if there'd been a clinch on the cover. Illustrations of couples embracing seem cartoonish, silly and downright redundant.

Apparently, I'm not the only one who finds the clinch off-putting: Sarah Wendell, cofounder of a blog called smartbitchestrashybooks.com, says: "Many readers hate it. Hate it. At best, the clinch can be a visual exercise in Technicolor hilarity, or at worst a complete and total embarrassment for the reader." But a reader on Romancing the Blog is not one of those embarrassed. She writes: "I've been reading romance for 30 years. The clinch cover is like an old friend. It's comforting and warm in a way new covers aren't. With a clinch cover on a historical, I know exactly what I'm getting. I'm getting transported back in time to a faraway place by the kind of book that hasn't disappointed me in decades." As Sarah Wendell of Smart Bitches Trashy Books says, "Clinch covers will probably never go away: they sell."

The Forever Clinch [Publishers Weekly]

[On a frivolous note, it should be said that these books do have great clothes: lots of polyester pants suits, neck-tie blouses, the occasional shawl and dresses that hint at "soft feminine curves." If approached by New York Magazine's "Look Book" or even the Time Out's "Public Eye," — hasn't happened — I always planned to characterize my look as "Harlequin heroine circa 1981, pre-makeover" (since I still have the undesirable specs, curly hair of a woman denying her femininity.)]

I recently came across the most appalling specimen of this genre I've ever encountered: 1980's Promise at Midnight by one Lilian Peake, which might be called the ur-HarRo. Shona Carroll is a sad-sack pianist engaged to a flautist named Calvin, who's always insulting her. 'Average, Calvin had called her, not good enough to carry her far in the world of music. Certainly not to the heights to which he aspired. And she agreed with him uncomplainingly.' She joins him on a cruise as his accompanist, ('she knew it was praise because he didn't curse her') where she is promptly thrown against The Hero, Marsh Faraday, by the ship's tossing.

Marsh Faraday, naturally, has a granite-like profile with 'etched lines betraying a worldly cynicism' and seems to have no expressions other than "mocking smiles", "taunting looks," "faintly derisive" eyes, "cynical amusement," and, just to shake it up, the occasional "unsmiling gaze." Due to turbulence on the high seas, Shona gets thrown against his steely thighs every couple of pages. "If he thinks, she told herself, he can reduce me to simpering adulation of his male physique and magnetic good looks by assessing me as if I were being auditioned for his harem then he's mistaken."

Long story short: fiance takes up with a blonde and declares they need to keep their engagement secret; Shona agrees; Marsh Faraday suggests they have a pretend affair for unclear reasons; sexy abuse ensues.

His mouth hit hers with a force which ground her lips against her teeth." She breaks away but, "as her muscles had tensed, so his hold had tightened. Now, in his anger at her body's repulsion of him, his arms became like cruel bonds. 'After that supreme bit of 'I'm your for the taking' act, you have the cheek to imply, with all the female 'no-go' signs you can muster, that you want me to get the hell out of here?' In his anger his nails were making piercing dents in her flesh." She says she's engaged. "'The devil you are!' He threw her from him and she staggered. 'Not judging by the way you pressed yourself against me when I caught you, the way you kissed me back when I kissed you. You felt like a woman who's been wandering in the desert for months, devoid of all male contact - and do I mean contact!

"That's not true,' she flung back, knowing he was right but knowing, too, that nothing would make her admit it. 'It-it was a reflex action, pure and simple. I-I hated it, really. I hate the - the very taste of your lips.' With the back of her hand, she wiped her mouth. The ship pitched again and again she was thrown off balance. This time he let her fall. She went backwards against the bed, hitting her head against the telephone and radio as she went down."

Wait, you're not entertained? Aroused? Huh. And we haven't even gotten to the part where he throttles her. Or spanks her in public. And by the way, I'm also leaving out, like, twenty pages of insults from both men, indulgent 'my-son-is-such-a-scamp' talk from his mother, a speech about how "when the prey is juicy and desirable and casts scent trails behind it, then it can't complain if the predator springs and captures it and proceeds to tear it apart" and a couple more fake engagements.

And then, of course, he explains how it was all for her own good because he loves her.

"I know what you deserve,' he said, and his hand reached out to close her lips which were opened on a gasp of protest. 'Marriage to me, and that's what you're going to get.'
'Are you proposing?' she asked, her body trembling now for a different reason.
'Not proposing - informing, demanding, stating. And you're agreeing. Right?'
Her brown eyes melted as they gazed into his. 'You're dictatorial and you're overbearing and you're a tyrant, Marsh Faraday, but -' she curled into him, 'I love you so much and I've loved you from the moment-'" He mashes her mouth.

For all our sakes, let's hope our mothers weren't reading these while we were in utero, as they remain one of the most disturbingly perverse phenomena I've ever encountered, a slap in the face to any women's rights gains that were concurrently taking place. (I'm guessing that my own mother, a member of the short-lived "Women's Bank of New York" at the time, was probably not receptive.) Oh, and if you see any, send 'em my way - lest we forget and all that. And, um, I need the fashion inspiration.

Promise At Midnight [Amazon]