Squawk Radio Invades!

As many of you know, yesterday, the Quills — along with the help of notorious (and traitorous) rogue reporter Kitty Kuttlestone — managed a coup of unprecedented proportions. They hijacked the enormously popular writers’ blog Squawk Radio while the Squawk chicks were out performing selfless good deeds to make the world a better place. So today, the Chicks are invading Quills turf. And we’re not leaving until our demands are met. We want changes in the Romance industry, and we want them NOW. And while we’re waiting, we’ve got a little work to do on the Running with Quills site.

Okay, let’s get this show on the road. Eloisa, start painting this elegant black border puce. Xtina, paste those Fabio covers on all the Quills books. Connie, find Kitty and put those fur-lined handcuffs to good use. Lisa, start brushing that blue eye shadow on the Quills’ publicity pics. And for the piece de résistance, Terri, break out the Donny Osmond posters. Me, I’m gonna mix us up a big pitcher of Mai-Tais. We’re gonna need our strength.
—Elizabeth Bevarly


Teresa Medeiros says, "KILL ME OR KISS ME BUT PLEASE DON'T BORE ME!"

I've always said that I love to both read and write books where the hero and heroine are always on the verge of either killing or kissing each other, but I think that's just my way of saying I love a healthy dose of passion in my romances. I once had a conversation with a writer friend who said she believed a romance should end with the hero and heroine both realizing that they COULD live without each other but that their lives would be immeasurably enhanced if they ended up together. How very mature! How very enlightened! How very...dull! I knew in that moment that her future didn't lie in romance and shortly after that she ended up leaving romance and establishing a very successful career in women's fiction.

And this is why — because the most powerful and primal theme in classic romance is, "I would die without you." Without Beauty, the Beast is left writhing about in the garden, clutching the rose Beauty gave him as he gasps his last breath. Without that prim spinster or bubbly belle to win his heart and save his soul, our dissolute rake is doomed to spend his life in the empty pursuit of pleasure, perishing of liver failure or syphilis in some London gutter.

You can diss some of the early books in our genre for their "politically incorrect" sexuality (which is sort of wickedly delicious in retrospect), but you can't deny that there was passion on every page. There was something eternal at stake and that something was a heart, a life, and perhaps even an immortal soul.

Eloisa James says, “IMO, TSTL!”

I'm putting my demand right out there. I'm sick of heroines who are so wildly intelligent that they are writing pamphlets that will help the future Darwin at the same time that they blaze trails through the marriage market and -- in their spare time -- do a little jewelry thieving to benefit the poor, spending their nights dancing over the roofs of London.

What ever happened to the good, old TOO STUPID TO LIVE heroine?

I loved her! BRING HER BACK!

I demand a woman who wanders into the medieval warlord's castle, nearly gets run over and shot about fourteen times, has no idea of the complexities of warfare but manages to tell the hero exactly where to go when he tries to do something underhanded, tames all 14 feral dogs, and brings peace and prosperity to all of England. By being goofy and silly and virginal and all that stuff.

I want the kind of story where the big, mean warlord is so whipped by his wife that he melts at her smile--even though he thought she was too stupid to survive, and so did all his mean, nasty male cohorts.

I'm sorry...I'm a professor and I'd rather my daughter got a college degree...but those were GREAT STORIES!

Elizabeth Bevarly Says, “BRING BACK THE ADVENTURE!”

When I first started reading romance novels, they were filled with intrepid adventures in exotic locales. There were archaeological digs in Denmark. Trips down the Amazon. Banking wars in Hong Kong. Haunted castles in Scotland. Yachting in the Mediterranean. Shipwrecks in the Caribbean. And that was just in the short category romances. In historicals, heroines were escaping the life of a concubine in China or a harem in Arabia. There were lady pirates in the South Pacific, antiquities hunters in Egypt and assassins in Renaissance Italy. Elephant safaris through sun-splashed India and treks across snow-covered Russia. Even here in the States (what few we had back then), there were sweet southern ladies bringing Yankees to their knees and scrappy colonial women turning into spies to help sink the Brits in the Revolutionary War. And I miss the pioneering spirit of the Westerns.

These days, the greatest adventure romance heroes and heroines are allowed to have is driving without a seatbelt. Oh, no, wait. They can’t do that, either. It might set a bad example. Look, I like ranchers and corporate raiders as much as the next chick, but come on. Where’s the adventure? Where’s the excitement? Where, dammit, is the ROMANCE of romance? In literary circles, IVANHOE is considered a romance. So is MOBY DICK. And that’s because of the larger-than-life adventures that occur in both those books. What happened to today’s romances? How come nobody gets to travel outside American or British borders anymore? How come nobody gets to live dangerously? What happened to all the fun? I want adventure put back into romance!

Of course, the Squawkers (contrary to some people’s beliefs) are not fools. We left half our trusty chicks to guard the Squawk fortress. And naturally, they have demands to make, too — they’re very demanding women. So visit http://www.squawkradio.com to read Lisa Kleypas, Christina Dodd and Connie Brockway express themselves rather forcefully (like they know any other way to express themselves) on the changes they want in Romance.

I mean, in romance books.

Yes, Kitty, you may pour me another Mai-Tai.

No, you may not stick your straw in the pitcher.