Beware Werewolves on Horseback

Without the internet to distract me, I’m always looking for something light to read while eating breakfast.  The local library has this great little monthly “Book Page,” which is filled with reviews of all the latest books, author interviews, a few columns and, naturally, many advertisements from publishers that are nearly as entertaining as some of the reviews.  

I have a bad habit of reading about stories rather than the stories themselves.  Leonard Maltin’s Movie Guide gathers no dust in my house.  I probably haven’t seen the movie you’re talking about, but I can summarize it and maybe even name some of the actors.  (Recently someone asked me if I’ve ever seen Never Been Kissed. “You mean the one where Drew Barrymore is an investigative reporter who goes undercover at the local high school and has a student fall in love with her, even though she’s falling for one of the teachers? Yeah, never seen it”).

“Book Page” fulfills my literary needs in the same way.  Literary fiction doesn’t hold my interest.  Current murder, suspense and crime stories are too dark for my taste.  Biography, history and memoir have to be about something or someone I’m very interested in for me to invest that much time.  But I’ll read about anything and everything.

I’m ashamed to say, the first page I look for is always the one with the reviews and ads for the latest romance novels.  Again, books I’d never read, but the summaries are insane.  Here’s one from this month’s “Book Page” that I promise, I am not making up: “New York Times bestseller [redacted] takes the passionate action way out west, as a vamp and a werewolf go undercover at a Wyoming dude ranch… with sizzling results!” [ellipses theirs].

Wait, what?!?  Even in a post-Twilight world, this is weird.

We can’t forget the Regency romances, with their lords and ladies.  Or the contemporary ones where firefighters/convicted killers with names like Teague Creek kidnap famous women doctors.  The names alone, as everyone knows, are the best part.  Kitty Savage, Brenna Spector, King Rifter (Title? Name? He’s another werewolf, so who cares?), Shirlene Dalton… Bill Moore (okay, they can’t all be winners).

People used to confuse us all the time.

 In the comments on my last post, some of us started talking about how wish fulfillment can trump plot and characters.  I haven’t read anything from the romance section of my local library (the pink stickers on the spines make me feel self conscious), but I have read Twilight and I can’t believe the characterization or plot can be any worse than some of these romance novels.  Both the Twilight saga and romance novels are huge industries, raking in significant amounts of money every year.  Why?

We’re always looking for escape in our stories.  Some offer nothing but escape.  Our lives can be lonely, fairly mundane, and we have to contain ourselves in polite society.  But in these books we are desirable, visit dramatic worlds, indulge in unbridled passion.  It doesn’t matter how unrealistic things are, we find catharsis in imagining ourselves in them.

I say “we.”  I don’t read that garbage.  But I find the same thing in some of my favorite TV shows.  Look at some of the USA Network’s most popular shows.  Burn Notice, White Collar and Royal Pains all feature guys who have lost their jobs (like most of us) and still get to live in luxury housing while wearing designer clothes (like some of us). 

Pictured: 3 technically homeless, unemployed slackers.

 The problem, is when we start to think we deserve the lives the characters have.  However, I’m sorry to report that the Marquise of Bourne isn’t going to save you from the life a governess, a rich doctor isn’t going to take you in, and if you lose your job you don’t get to dress in three-thousand dollar suites.

But werewolves and vampires on horseback?  That could totally happen.