Wow. Talk About a Throw-Down.

For those who missed it, here is La Laliberte's scathing challenge, issued in response to my Heartless post:

You may chide my trash ignorance, but I assumed that was something of an epidemic, not only within one author's "oeuvre", shall we say, but even spilling over into others. For example, how many romances have I read? Two. You probably even know which ones, I'll give you a second to think. Yes, you're right. All the Queen's Men by Linda Howard and Julie Garwood's The Prize. Now, imagine my surprise when I go to pick up Judith McNaught's Kingdom of Dreams that you left with Aley and all of a sudden the noble Royce has reappeared in all his hunky-hairy-dark-age-hero glory! And he what? Somehow convinces the daughter of his enemy to love him and have steamy sex with him, etc?? Or at least, I would assume that's what happened... I stopped reading after I learned that Nicolaa (pronounced Nee-co-LAAAHHH) had somehow turned into her '80s counterpart... Jennifer. (Jennifer? Really?) So please, give me a good one or I'll give up on the whole genre. In fact, can I offer a discussion topic? THE BOOK you would recommend to convert a neophyte into a romance lover--and don't get me wrong, I thoroughly enjoyed The Prize and even All the Queen's Men, but now I need guidance. Help.

Oh, my dearest, darling Lady Liberty. How thrilled we are that you emerged from the Food Service cave to taunt us.

To begin I have to plead no contest to the charge that the first two historical romances you read had heroes named Royce. Not going to explain it, not going to excuse it, just going to say that it is an unfortunate coincidence.

And now on to the indictment of sameness.

I think the main problem is that you are reading the evolution of the genre backwards. (Say WHAT?!) OK, so here's the thing: Judith McNaught, at the time A Kingdom of Dreams was published (circa 1989) was working off of existing themes and, believe it or not, moving them forward. By a couple of inches.

So Judith McNaught is, for lack of a better term, the dinosaur. She's the one you're supposed to read the first time, when you have no idea what the genre is about. And right about the time you realize that all of the stories have the same structure, you find Julie Garwood, and you are so frakking relieved that the relationship is no longer the central conflict that you do a little happy dance. And by the time you think it's time to read about "real" characters in a more modern setting, you move on to Linda Howard.

In other words yes, you did the whole thing backwards.

Now I'm not saying that that makes McNaught obsolete (or that it excuses Garwood's inexplicable move into bland modern suspense). Those of us who popped our romance cherries on them can still look back with some fondness, the way you look back with fondness on high school-- skipping over the bad parts mostly, and really really remembering the good times with nostalgia (McNaught's Double Standards, which I would never recommend to anyone, will remain on my keeper shelf forever).

There is an element of sameness in the genre, but it is not something that should be confused with lack of imagination by certain writers. Sorry, but the new definition of romance involves two people who are perfect for each other, and the fact that come hell or high-water, there will be a happy ending.

That in no way precludes interesting characters, plot scenarios, or outside the box thinking as to how exactly they are going to get there, which can be messy as hell.

And to be honest, even the whole virgin thing is out out out in modern romances, unless you can come up with a not-unreasonable explanation for a 28-year-old who has never had sex. Like, a real, rational reason.

On to recommendations for beginners.

I am going to maintain that ANY Julie Garwood is the perfect introduction for beginners in historical. There are only maybe three of hers that I am not completely enamored of, and they are wonderful without being overly dense. Moderns? Erin McCarthy seems to be kicking ass and taking names, especially in the real-world-not-all-the-same-scenario realm (and Lisa Kleypas, the mastress of sweet historicals has progressed herself into some seriously yummy contemps).

For me and paranormals, if you're not reading Kresley Cole, you're not living. Like, for reals.

OK, Mme Laliberte, the challenge is now to you. Name the genre you'd like, and I'll get you a title.

(And you can read it in the car with me on the way to Utah. WAHOO!)