I read an extremely offensive and ignorant blog post recently by a man trashing romance novels, readers and writers. Even though I’d love to rant and rave about what a complete ass he was being, I will hold back. (Please someone hold me back!)
Okay, a little better with a glass of wine. So his main message was that romance authors know they are writing the equivalency of a children’s book (not the content, obviously, but the quality) so we shouldn’t be commended or receive praise for our books because they don’t hold a candle to “true” literature. Whatever that means.
And that’s not all. He goes on to criticize women who read romance novels as being childish for buying into these ridiculous notions of being swept off our feet by hunky men and carried away to an HEA in a distant sunset.
Now I probably shouldn’t mention that this blogger writes fantasy and sci-fi, which someone with less morals than I would point out that he should’ve outgrown these ridiculous notions of magic, death rays, and aliens by now. I probably shouldn’t add that his profile stating he “will work for pizza and root beer” isn’t exactly intellectual genius. Hypocrisy anyone?
I think more wine is needed.
So, according to this blogger, reading romance is intellectually lazy because adults should only read to learn, not to be entertained. Sex has no place in books. Romance writers are inferior. The content in a romance novel is meaningless.
Personally, I think he’s just jealous that Romance is the bestselling fiction genre.
Let’s toss the conversation to you. Are you childish for reading romance novels? Can you feel your brain cells dying off one by one as you get swept away with the white knight on his noble steed? Let loose ladies (and men). I know you want to.