Yesterday I finished the 6th Harry Potter and confirmed watering-pot that I am, I got all choked up reading about Dumbledore’s death. Anyone writing popular fiction aspires to creating this powerful a reaction to her characters and their problems. Yet I think romance novelists have a special challenge. It comes from one of the defining characteristics of the genre: the HEA.

Don’t get me wrong. I love (and I know readers do, too) the HEA. But when we know it’s going to be all right in the end, why do we keep turning the pages?

I’ve mulled this before but as summer is coming (including a vacation near Cedar Point, Ohio) this time roller coasters came to mind. We get on them knowing we’ll (probably!) return safe and sound to the starting point. Yet they’re still a thrill.

Maybe it’s because of unexpected and new twists and turns. That’s definitely true of romance novels. Sometimes authors give characters seemingly unsolvable problems and part of the fun is finding out how they work them out.

Yet the good old “there-and-back” coasters, like the Blue Streak at CP which I rode as a child, are still fun. It’s still a real experience. Each time I ride a coaster I still feel the wind, the bouncing of my stomach with every up and down.

It’s the same when I read romances by mistresses of deep characterization like Laura Kinsale. I get so sucked into the characters’ point of view that my own awareness of the HEA fades. It’s the difference between watching a bunch of people screaming downhill versus riding the coaster myself.

So what makes the romance ride work for you? Are there any roller coasters (literary or the amusement park type) you plan to ride this summer? 🙂

Elena
www.elenagreene.com

Coming this Sunday, May 20, the Riskies will interview NYT-bestselling author Sabrina Jeffries.

Be sure to stop by and comment for the chance to win a copy of her newest release, BEWARE A SCOT’S REVENGE!

I’m reading one of my new research acquisitions, In the Family Way: Childbearing in the British Aristocracy, 1760 – 1860 by Judith Schnied Lewis, Rutgers U Press, 1986. (Do you have THIS one, Kalen???).

My heroine is going to have a pregnancy and birth in my new work-in-progress, so purchasing this book was a necessity! It promises to be interesting reading.

In the first pages (as far as I’ve gotten), Lewis makes the case for changing social values from 1760 to 1860, from the good of the group to the personal wishes of the individual. Her population of study is the British aristocracy and in addressing this issue, she says:

Whether family members chose to address each other by name or title is not only a sign of their perceived intimacy, it is also a clue to whether they see that relationship as predominantly a public or private one. It is thus one good index for tracing the role of domesticity.

Lewis talks about an evolution of the more formal modes of address before 1800 to more informal terms of address in the mid-1800s. So in 1780s, she says, Lady Stafford referred to her husband as Lord Stafford (and vice versa) and Lady Sarah Napier always wrote of her husband as Col. Napier. (I always think about the Bennetts in Pride and Prejudice calling each other Mr. and Mrs.). As time goes on, Lewis states that informal address, given names or nicknames, tend to appear–the Duchess of Bedford calling her husband Johnny, for example; the Earl of Scarborough referring to his wife, the Countess Fredericka as “dear Freddy.”

Lewis makes the point that: This switch to informal and even casual modes of address is significant in two ways. First, it clearly indicates that the individual takes precedence over the rank that he or she holds…Second, this verbal transformation identified varying levels of intimacy among people.

Gee. Another example of the Regency, occurring smack dab in the middle of this period, being a time of transition. Something more to think about – the clash of the needs of the group/family vs the needs of the individual; the changing nature of terms of address. This isn’t any surprise, really, but it is interesting to read about it in the context of how members of the aristocracy address each other.

Names are such a confusing area of writing Regengies. Just getting titles right is a daunting task, and presenting the variety of names one person holds and making it make sense to the reader is a challenge. I have a particular problem in this current wip. My hero is a minor character in Innocence and Impropriety and in the January 2008 book, The Vanishing Viscountess. He’s called “Pomroy” or “Pom” by his friend, Tanner (whose given name is Adam Vickery and whose title name is Tannerton). My editor said “Pom” is a derogatory term. The dictionary defines it as: n. – A disparaging term for English immigrants to Australia or New Zealand. Who knew?

So my hero can’t be Pom. To solve this dilemma I came up with a great uncle who conveniently has died so Pom’s father inherits a new title, Earl of Varney (or is it Varcourt?), thereby giving Pom his lesser title as a courtesy, making Pom Viscount Cavanley. I am trying to incorporate this convolution in the plot so it will mean something and not merely make readers eyes glaze over.

And I’m having Pom and the heroine using first names. Pom’s first name is Adrian, which could be a female name, but I liked it and enough is enough already!

At least Lewis’s book has made me feel that this first name basis made historic sense. It is always my modern, American inclination to make all my Regency characters use first names, but that is something that doesn’t fit the history, so I tend to swing to the other extreme of confusing accuracy.

Am I obsessing about this unnecessarily? Does anybody care if Regency names or titles are used correctly or not?

Cheers!
Diane

*Excellent website for getting titles correct: http://chinet.com/~laura/html/titles01.html