Many life lessons can be found in the 1999 classic "10 Things I Hate About You." For example, flashing the soccer coach can get your would-be boyfriend out of detention, and male models are generally undesirable in every way except their looks. (Both true, though I admit to no personal experience in either case.)
The most applicable life lesson for a writer, however, can be found in Allison Janney's character. She fills the obligatory teen comedy role of the wacky authority figure (think Principal Rooney in "Ferris Bueller's Day Off"), spending her office hours as a high school guidance counselor crafting a thesaurus-enhanced work of erotic literature starring, you guessed it, the effervescent Reginald.
Beside the fact that Janney is a scene-stealer in absolutely everything, her character's identification as an author has always led me to wonder about her back-story. Was she an aspiring writer that found work as a guidance counselor (ie gave up on her preferred field), or a guidance counselor that found an outlet in writing out her erotic fantasies while simultaneously, you know, counseling teenagers?
As with any genre, the bulk of erotic romance novels (writer Mary Roach discusses the difference between pornography, erotica and romance here) are badly written dime novels. But unlike horror or comedy or drama, this presumption of poor craftsmanship defines the overall reputation of the romance category.
I mean, how can you take this seriously as literature?But romance novels are a serious market. It is the most popular genre in modern literature: In 2008, out of more than 47,000 fiction books published in the U.S., about 7,000 were romance novels, which generated $1.37 billion in sales -- a solid eighth of the market. A quarter of the American population -- more than 74 million people (90% women) -- read at least one romance novel that year. And of those, almost 30 million (mostly married women in their 30's and 40's) are regular romance readers.
Not to mention that the genre is one of the oldest. Vātsyāyana wrote the Kama Sutra like 1,600 years ago. Two hundred years ago, Jane Austen provided a cornerstone for the non-erotic body of romantic fiction work. Even Mark Twain got in on the fun in 1880 with the rather risque 1601, which (it goes without saying) created some waves.
So who are we to be choosy? Getting published is getting published, and a paycheck is a paycheck. With a literary landscape so saturated with both good and bad romance novels (mostly bad, or at least horrendously cheesy), aspiring authors would be smart to re-think their scorn.
According to stats drummed up by romance novelist Brenda Hiatt (author of our representative book cover above), the payout for a romance novel is anywhere from a few hundred bucks to more than $100,000. Top-paying publishers are, not surprisingly, the giants Random House, Ballantine (a member of the Random House Publishing Group) and Grand Central Publishing (formerly owned by Time Warner, now a part of the Hachette Book Group). But a number of smaller publishers -- notably Harlequin, Pocket, Silhouette and Berkley/Jove -- provide a pay-out of at least $10,000-$20,000, which ain't bad for something that probably does not need to be labored on for years (or even months) on end. Royalties tend to hover around 6-8% for print and 30-40% for electronic, which is standard in the publishing industry.
Writing romance has the potential to be a lucrative side gig, and there are plenty of pseudonyms to go around, and yet to people who take themselves too seriously (ie literary critics and most writers), the romance genre is a joke. We've been cultured to assume that romance novels are trashy, pathetic and aimed at lonely women. And many of them are. But wouldn't it be great if the industry could evolve to the point where writing any brand of romance or erotica wasn't a dagger to the heart of a mainstream career? Where a pseudonym wouldn't be necessary to preserve credibility as an author?
Not everything one writes needs to be published. The best part of being a writer, in fact, is not the moment of publishing but the moment of composing something that really carries weight, that means something to you and could possibly mean something to someone else. That last part is the gravy on the publishing boat. I'd never embark on a journey to write something I wouldn't consider publishing, and I don't think I'm quite ready to proudly post my name over sentences like, "He played with her disheveled, mahogany hair with one hand as the other slowly crept up her creamy leg, pausing to trace the skirt hem that lay flat against her long, lithe thighs." *
Of course, I'm being hypocritical: I criticize the genre's reputation for bad writing and then dismiss the writing process as easy, when obviously it's not. But some authors publish more than half a dozen romance novels a year, so it can't be all that hard, can it? (Hi-o.) For now, I'll content myself with dreaming up double entendre pseudonyms and searching for a genuinely well-written erotic romance novel. (Suggestions welcome for either.)
The big question on writing romance: Is the juice worth the squeeze? Reginald's quivering member would probably say so.
* Wow, a thesaurus of some kind really is necessary.
