Have you come across this demarcation—a description of a novel with peppers to explain how “spicy” the writing gets? It’s a handy indicator.
Have you come across this demarcation—a description of a novel with peppers to explain how “spicy” the writing gets? It’s a handy indicator. If you don’t know, according to farofeb.com:
0 – Cozy, no heat (otherwise called “clean” but that sounds judgy regarding the rest of them)
1 – Low Heat, kisses and some intimation with a fade to black
2 – Smoldering, sexual tension, some spice but not graphic, mild language
3 – Hot, more detailed spice and language
4 – Scorching, very detailed spice, graphic language to describe sexual acts
This is all without venturing into erotica, but sometimes the line between scorching and erotica can be blurry in my opinion. For the record, I don’t mind spice in my reading and sometimes I prefer it because it means it’s likely not a YA book, which I’m currently not interested in.
But that’s not what this post is about. It’s about being a writer when the peppers loom. Some of the people who read books 1 and 2 in my Enchanted Path series didn’t read book 3 and likely won’t read book 4 because of spice. One of the subplots of my series is a growing relationship between the MC and her childhood friend. I’d call it slow burn, but then some readers expect that to happen within one book instead of an entire series. It starts between 0 and 1 then grows over the series to between 3 and 4.
How do I account for this at a time when readers essentially want to know everything they’re getting in a novel? Is this a case of the journey being more important than the destination? Do we really need signposts for a meander? These aren’t textbooks or dictionaries. I read for relaxation and to disconnect with the outside world. Then again being an avid reader, I sometimes count on those quick trope descriptors to save time.
There’s no easy answer. Reading is a personal pursuit and so is how you approach it. In the meantime, I hope those of you who don’t mind 3 or 4 peppers, grab some milk and read A Mage’s Path coming November 30th.
Romantic comedies (and any romance genre for that matter) are our modern-day equivalent of fairy tales. At least the “girl-finds-a-prince or the boy-is-given-a-princess-type” fairy tale. It has a discernable formula—two people meet, they fall in love, an obstacle separates them (and according to Hallmark movies, that’s at the hour and thirty mark), and then all hurts are mended to a happily ever after conclusion—and often used devices. One of the most used is the List.
Romantic comedies (and any romance genre for that matter) are our modern-day equivalent of fairy tales. At least the “girl-finds-a-prince or the boy-is-given-a-princess-type” fairy tale. It has a discernable formula—two people meet, they fall in love, an obstacle separates them (and according to Hallmark movies, that’s at the hour and thirty mark), and then all hurts are mended to a happily ever after conclusion—and often used devices. One of the most used is the List.
You know what I’m talking about.
My first conscious awareness of it was as a kid watching When Harry Met Sally
One character, typically the guy, but I’ve seen some good lady lists too, enumerates all the reasons they can’t picture life without the other one. The one with the list always seems angry and frustrated to have to relate the list. The profess-ee stands, usually with tear-brightened eyes, in bewilderment. I’ve seen this done well and…not so well. Even so, I think it’s something that is glaringly absent from more traditional fairy tales.
“I think it’s adorable that cleaning products make you twitchy and you insist on going around barefoot.”
Prince Charming to Snow White
“No one eats apple pie quite like you.”
Prince to Rapunzel
“I love how grounded you are even though you live in a tower.”
If you’re thinking those aren’t really lists, you’re right. I think it’s what keeps the romance out of fairy tales. Relationships are transactional and haphazard. It's like marrying the firefighter who rescued you from a burning building when thanks (albeit profound) and maybe baked goods would do the trick. I suspect if either party were pressed for specifics about why they were together, the reasons would be unsatisfying.
Why do I bring this up? I suppose the breezy offerings at this time of year for books, movies, television and even music. Some tropes are admittedly overused, but some are as welcome as a cool breeze on a summer day. And it led me to wonder, where do fairy tales fit in? My conclusion: they don’t—at least not in a way that makes me want to use them as a romantic ideal.
