I somehow forgot I bought this game last year. Since I was in the mood for a game set in Jane Austen’s fictional universe, I was all for it. Even when I discovered it’s not an adventure game, but a RPG (role-playing game) or strategy game. I hadn’t played this type of game before but hey, it’s Jane Austen. So I was willing to try.

Right off the bat, the game opens with a tutorial to explain that you’re the heroine in the world of Pride and Prejudice – which includes some elements from other two Austen novels: Persuasion and Sense and Sensibility – and your actions will determine your matrimonial path, and blah blah blah. I was impatient enough to leap over the rest of tutorials into the game.

A big mistake.

Because I somehow ended up marrying someone I didn’t expect to marry. To say that my jaw was on the floor would be the understatement of this century. I’d expected to marry Mr. Darcy himself. Oh no, Matches and Matrimony won’t make it that easy for the likes of me. Well chastened, I went back to the game’s tutorials and dutifully read all before trying again.

Matches and Matrimony: A Pride and Prejudice Tale is essentially a dating sim that revolves around your decisions in how you would pick an activity for each day of your five-day week — depending on your path, there are potentially fourteen weeks in total per game — and how some characters who might like you more or less, based on your responses. And this would affect the percentage of your sum and subsequently influence your matrimonial path.

Each activity has points, plus or minus, for each of nine characteristic traits: Willpower, Wit, Talent, Kindness, Propriety, Sensibility and Energy.

If you select ‘Go Visiting’ for one day of your week, it’ll increase Kindness (+6) and Propriety (+4), and decrease Energy (-10). And ‘Read a Book’ for another day, which would increase Wit and Sensibility while decreasing Willpower. ‘Rest’ for one day would mean Energy 40+ alone.

Note: sometimes it’d reverse unexpectedly. When you might expect more points for certain traits, it’d go in the opposite direction and decrease those much-needed points. (I later figured out why that happened, so you’ll probably figure out yourself, too.)

At the first try, I had no strategy – none whatsoever – so I randomly clicked on an activity for each day and hoped for the best. Oh, I did have a bit of a strategy: I’d made sure that I was nice to everyone. Never rude or confrontational. Good manners, always.

And that, readers, is how I ended up with that dreadfully dull cousin, Mr. Collins, as my husband.

Oh, the horror.

So, how you choose activities for your heroine each week does affect your path. Sometimes, crazily so. Likewise with your interactions with various characters throughout the story as their reactions will influence your path, positively or negatively.

To begin with, you get to name the heroine – clearly based on Elizabeth Bennet – however you like. I found this rather disconcerting, to be honest. I mean, ‘Fia Bennet’ doesn’t sound quite right, does it?

I did later have fun by naming my heroine after my baby brother, ‘Alasdair Bennet’, though. Pretty immature, but so fun.

While most characters are from Austen’s fictional universe, the details of some characters are different. Such as Mr. Wickham, from Pride and Prejudice, is renamed as Mr. Wickeby for this game, but everything he says and does in this game resembles those of Mr. Willioughby from Sense and Sensibility. Mr. Bingley’s first name went from Charles to Edward. For a while, I didn’t notice this change until I vaguely remembered that Edward is from Sense and Sensibility and that his surname is Ferrars. It explains why Mr. Bingley seems a combination of Charles Bingley and Edward Ferrars. I don’t think there are any more significant changes. Not as far as I can recall, anyroad.

Well, not all characters from Pride and Prejudice appear in this game. Younger Bennet sisters – Mary and Kitty – don’t show up. So, along with the Bennet parents, it’s just Elizabeth (you), Jane and Lydia (who’s renamed Lydianne for this game).

Did all those changes mess with my head? Yup. I think the game designers did it to make the game unpredictable for various paths to the nine possible endings.

In other words, what you know about Austen’s novels may work against you.

My sketchy recollections of the novels had clearly worked against me because I kept marrying the wrong suitors, from Colonel Brandon (Sense and Sensibility) to Captain Wentworth (Persuasion), or ending up alone as “an old maid”. I mean, I was left pretty nonplussed when I somehow managed to marry Mr. Bingley as well. And that cad, Mr. Wickesy (a.k.a. Wickham from Pride and Prejudice and Williboughy from Sense and Sensibility). I also ended up being well liked by the dreadful Bingley sisters and thoroughly disliked by my supposedly best friend, Charlotte.

The competitive cow in me was annoyed enough to replay the game to correct all that as well as to achieve the ultimate goal: marry Mr. Darcy.

Although the game itself was easy to master, finding the Darcy route wasn’t that easy. In fact, it was so challenging that I ended up playing the game repeatedly for a couple of hours, trying every possible route.

If you play this game just right, you’ll be involved with all main key plot points of Pride and Prejudice including the awesome confrontation with a certain snobbish Lady and the famous first proposal scene with Darcy and Elizabeth (you).

I oddly felt thrilled whenever the red line in Darcy’s ‘attachment’ bar increased. He likes me, he likes me! And I let out a little cheer when I finally married him. I admit I did feel a little pathetic afterwards but hey, I nabbed that surprisingly elusive bloke.

 I don’t think I’d have enjoyed replaying the game so much if it wasn’t for the game’s Skip function, though. This function allows you to speed through all dialogues and scenes you’d already seen until a new dialogue line or scene appears.

So you can replay the game until you reach your chosen ending.  I read somewhere online that three endings involve Darcy, but I had managed to reach just six out of the nine endings so there are two more Darcy endings I haven’t tried yet. Gah. At least it shows that this game’s replayability value is pretty high.

The game also has an option to save a spot any time throughout the game, up to 10 slots. And believe me, readers, you will definitely need this option.

Because when you realise you don’t like where your path is heading, you can’t return to change your selection of activities for that week. Once you’ve made your choices, your path is determined. So each time your heroine says “Now is probably the best time to save your game” before you could make your selection of activities, do it! You can save a game over a previous save when you run out of the save slots.

The game’s options page is pretty basic as it has functions for you to control the Music and Sound Volume, ‘After choices’ (stop skipping or keep skipping), Display (full screen or windowed mode), and Text Speed.

Also, bundled with the game are Austen’s full novels: Pride and Prejudice, Persuasion and Sense and Sensibility, that you can read within the game.

And of course, it has information guides (mostly to explain each character trait) and character profiles.

While it’d grown on me during the game, I found the general art rather frustrating. This sort doesn’t usually bother me, but since we  see the background art repeatedly throughout a game? And when we see Darcy’s supposedly magnificent home? It can make one wish the game makers had invested in a better artist.

Some dialogue exchanges – especially the ones involving Mr. Collins - were a tad long-winded. I did wonder if this was intentional, though. Occasionally, some parts felt repetitive but I can’t tell if it was due to my impatience or the pacing of the game itself.

It’s quite a short game, too. Perhaps between twenty to forty minutes per game, I’d say? Well, it depends on each path. The ’best’ path lasts roughly fifty minutes while each of ‘bad’ paths varies between twenty to thirty minutes. The shortest – and the worst – path is the Mr. Collins route, which typically lasts twenty minutes. Of course, it also depends on your pacing preference. I’m a speedy gamer, so it was a quick play each time. Well, except for that damn Darcy route.

And I really don’t understand why the game creators set Jane Austen’s novels in “Victorian times” (see left for the ‘TALENT’ screenshot). I don’t know much about period costumes, but I’m pretty sure some background characters are wearing 1880s-era clothes and hats, too.

Anyhow, the competitive cow in me quite enjoyed playing the game repeatedly so it deserves a B from me.

Suitable for all ages and ideal for players who are looking for a fun dating sim. Also for those who like simple RPGs with a bit of a challenge. Some parts of the game might have Austen purists twitching, but Matches and Matrimony: A Pride and Prejudice Tale is honestly a gentle fun and sweet-natured game.

Available in Windows and Mac at all major online retail stores including Big Fish Games ($2.99), Amazon US/UK/etc. ($6.99) and iWin ($6.95).

Related posts:

1. DVD REVIEW: A&E’s “The Romance Collection: Special Edition” — “Pride and Prejudice”
2. Thursday Afternoon Haiku Moment: Pride and Prejudice and Zombies by Seth Grahame-Smith
3. REVIEW: Cat’s Tale: A Fairy Tale Retold by Bettie Sharpe

A couple of months ago at a news site for mixed race readers, one commenter self-identified as an “Asian Cajun”, which got me remembering my journey of assumptions and corrections years ago as a romance reader.

At the time a few years ago, a huge number of “Cajun romances” – contemporary and historical – pretty much dominated the genre. In spite of this, I still didn’t understand exactly what ‘Cajun’ was.

Believe me, I tried when I investigated. I only had vague impressions. Such as “It was something to do with French and African heritages, maybe?” and “the majority of Cajuns speak French and the best-known Cajun community lives in Louisiana, U.S.”

I somehow came to believe that Cajuns had black heritage. At the time, I understood that Cajuns were historically seen on the same level of ‘Indian savages’, ‘coloureds’, ‘rednecks’ or ‘hillbillies’. I think this was why I believed that Cajuns were basically a group of mixed race Louisiana residents, with mixed Canadian Caucasian, French Caucasian and African black heritages.

I didn’t realise I was wrong until a discussion about interracial relationships in the romance genre cropped up at AAR. The reader, who asked for book recommendations, was particularly interested in those with black men as heroes. So, I suggested books by Linda Howard, Sandra Hill, Samantha Winston and some other authors. Quite a few readers quickly corrected me, explaining that not all Cajun families have black heritage. A couple thought I may have confused ‘cajun’ with ‘creole’. One suggested my mix-up was understandable because the Creole history and the Cajun history overlapped so times that some aspects are deeply entwined and some influences from each other can be found in each other.

Their correction and explanations had completely altered my mental picture of Cajun characters from romance novels, particularly Linda Howard’s legendary contemporary romances. Until then, when I read those romance novels, I had this imagery of mixed race people with black heritage. Most authors and readers treated ethnicity so differently at the time.
Particularly in contemporary romances. Such as restricting race-related issues to POC characters only, and restricting social mobility and social issues – such as class differences (rarely explicitly stated, though), universal social issues and wealth – to white characters only. As for mixed race characters? Authors tended to restrict the heavy use of physical descriptions and ‘exotic sensuality’ to mixed race people. Such as “elegantly almond-shaped eyes”, “milky mocha skin”, “a touch of exotic in smile”, “her oval face, the skin of white porcelain doll, framed by ebony straight hair”, and so on. It was almost all about sex where mixed race characters were concerned. Authors did used this to their Cajun characters as well. Such as describing Cajun characters – especially heroes – as tall, dark, exotic, and black-haired. Oh, and let’s not
forget sensuality.

They however went further than with the usual mixed race crowd. While they occasionally referenced a history of discrimination and bigotry against Cajun people, they treated Cajun characters as everyday people with ordinary problems and needs. It had the kind of balance I liked. An acknowledgement of what those characters had to deal with while still leading ordinary lives.

That was how I came to believe Cajun people had black and white heritage. The moment I understood my understanding of ‘Cajun’ was wrong, my mind was so blown. It had also completely destroyed my almost only line of defence.

Some people had repeatedly scorned the mainstream Romance genre for being “so white”, but I frequently pointed out – while acknowledging it did have its moments of fetishising and otherising – there were many popular Cajun romances, particularly in category romances. Those were extremely popular at the time, mind.

I did avoid mentioning ‘savage Indian romances’ because… Heh, come on. Cajun romances seemed better in comparison as most Cajun characters were pretty much everyday people. A refreshing change from those where authors who routinely introduced “racial issues” to justify the existence of POC heroes or heroines in their stories.

I mean in a ‘Savage Indian’ romance, a warrior would have an issue with white people so he took it out on the “lily-white” heroine. In a Cajun romance, the hero would have an issue with greedy landowners, so he took it out on the heroine for being the daughter of a greedy landowner. The latter seemed better than the former, I felt.

It didn’t even occur to me to wonder why Cajun characters were treated so differently from other POC characters in the Romance genre. I just assumed it was their French white side – and I later realised, lack of references to actual racism – that made them more acceptable to readers. (Heh, I almost wrote “less scary”.)

I should point out that I wasn’t that aware of the old “one-drop rule” issue at the time. So to me, a Cajun person was a person of mixed race ancestry. It didn’t even occur to me that a Cajun person would be seen as African American if my understanding of ‘Cajun’ was indeed right.

Once I understood that I misunderstood, I went off Cajun romances. Mostly out of embarrassment and mortification.

So that’s one of many reasons why I don’t think it’s a good idea to learn anything from fiction. Not just because I was dumb enough to misunderstand ‘Cajun’, I didn’t have enough American cultural knowledge to understand all those little nuances. Thank goodness that I’m not alone. There is a friend who once admitted he nursed a misunderstanding about the Cold War for years because of those Cold-War spy novels he loved reading.

Have you had a similar misunderstanding about – say – a culture, profession, technique or such as the result of reading a staple of specific novels?

Related posts:

1. All m/m fiction is not created equal
2. Great Sex Shouldn’t Last All Night
3. Wherein Jane Offends Authors Against Fan Fiction

When I joined the ‘Deaf Characters in Literature’ (DCIL) project years ago, there were only three listed in the Romantic Fiction section. American author Harper Lee’s iconic novel To Kill a Mockingbird (the Tutti and Frutti sisters), Italian author Dacia Maraini’s 18^th-century historical novel The Silent Duchess, and British author Catherine Cookson’s it’s-all-grim-up-north family saga novel, The Mallen Girl. That was roughly seven years ago. Today, the Romantic Fiction section of the DCIL database has over 200 titles published last eighty-odd years. Yay!  There are still more to log, though.

Anyroad, this database reveals some interesting patterns and tropes among romance novels featuring deaf characters. Here goes my casual observations:

The majority of deaf characters are found in Category Romance, particularly Harlequin Superromance, Silhouette Intimate Moments, and Loveswept.

These characters are more likely to be female, usually as heroine or female relative. When the heroine is deaf, the hero is more likely to be a doctor (Elizabeth August’s Silhouette Romance, Lucky Penny) or father of a deaf child (Sandra Canfield’s Harlequin Superromance, Star Song). However, if a deaf character is 10 or under, then the character is likely to be male; usually Hero’s son or orphaned nephew (Bobby Hutchinson’s Sheltering Bridges and Rachel Ryan’s Eloquent Silence). In those cases, the heroine is more likely to be a speech therapist, deaf school teacher or – for a historical romance – a governess or companion (Barbara Hazard’s Midnight Magic).

While Category Romance has its share of deaf stereotypes and tropes, there is enough variety that it could use to save its face. Such as Susan Drake’s SIM Hear No Evil with deaf heroine as a muralist and hero as a Greek hotel owner, and Suzanne Ellison’s Harlequin Superromance, Words Unspoken, with deaf hero Gunnar as a marine biologist and heroine Meredith as his ASL interpreter.

Candace Irvin makes it more interesting with her action-packed SIM The Impossible Alliance by making her heroine ARIES agent Alexis Warner deaf. Likewise with Mary Kay McComas’s popular Loveswept romance, To Give a Heart Wings, for making her deaf heroine a photographer and hero a racing driver. Also, Julie Miller’s Silhouette Intrigue Police Business features a deaf, rich heiress as a murder witness whom hero police detective thrives to protect.

There’s Kevin’s Story by Sally Goldenbaum and Adrienne Staff (Loveswept, 1986, no. 165). Not only our hero Kevin is deafened and a sign language user, he runs a successful biscuit company; surprisingly rare for a deaf character in fiction. I say surprising because there were quite a few deaf business owners and entrepreneurs in real life last few centuries, but it rarely happened in fiction. I find this odd. Deaf people in real life – especially during 20^th century as a result of the International Milan Congress of 1880 – couldn’t get jobs, so they set up businesses of their own. Such as Irish born-deaf immigrant Michael O’Neal who founded a business that employed 100+ window cleaners across New York City between 1870s and 1890s. Kevin originally appeared in What’s a Nice Girl…? (Loveswept, 1985, no. 97) as a best friend of uptight hero Dr. Logan Reed who was falling for Susan, a perky Jewish woman. Apparently, Kevin was such a hit with readers that Goldenbaum and Staff decided to pen Kevin’s story, which they ultimately used as the title. FWIW, I thought Kevin’s Story was rather sweet and charming.

I don’t read Inspirational romances, but there is a listing of Arlene James’s The Heart’s Voice (Love Inspired, 2004) that features hero Daniel Holden who lost his hearing to an explosion during a military mission. I think there are more, but The Heart’s Voice is the one that was frequently recommended by Inspirational romance readers. According to some, deafness in Inspirational romance is generally used as part of God’s teaching as well as an emotional conflict between hero and heroine. Interestingly, the majority of deaf characters are male, usually as hero or a relative.

For Traditional Regency Romance genre, almost all deaf characters are female and widowed. Deaf heroes are as common as hen’s teeth. Also in this sub-genre, the two most popular causes of deafness are a childhood fever (typhoid fever, meningitis or scarlet fever) and domestic violence. I found the latter rather interesting because a beating usually leaves a person deaf in one ear, not in both ears. As one audiologist pointed out, if the beating was severe enough to render a person deaf in both ears, the person would be already dead. Heh!

For Historical romance genre, it’s fifty-fifty, but deaf heroes are more likely to be found in Medieval-era historical romances while it’s the 19^th century setting for deaf heroines. However, all deaf characters in American historical romance genre found so far are female (Catherine Anderson’s Annie’s Song). In fact, quite a few romance readers have recommended Mary Balogh’s Georgian-era historical romance, Silent Melody, and Catherine Anderson’s American historical romance, Annie’s Song.

For what it’s worth, I generally find Catherine Anderson’s books a tad too manipulative for my taste, which is the case with Annie’s Song. However when she stated in an interview that she did extensive historical research for this novel, I believed her because I didn’t come across any major clangers and common misconceptions, usually found in other romantic novels featuring deaf characters, in Annie’s Song. Kudos to Anderson. I’m sorry that I can’t say the same for Balogh’s Silent Melody, though, but it found a place in many Top 100 Romance Novels lists, so you might enjoy her portrayal of deaf heroine Lady Emily.

It’s interesting to note that romance authors tend to associate deafness with music or sound in their stories. Such as pairing a musician character with a deaf character, or use sounds to highlight a deaf character’s solitude. Seeing that it’s appeared in at least 80% of romantic fiction featuring deaf characters, it suggests that the majority of romance authors thought music and sound mattered more to their deaf characters.

A pity really, because the majority of real-life deaf people were historically more interested in art, literature, crafts, sports or other fields than sound-related fields, such as music. Notable people: our failed Scottish painter Walter Geikie who’s still regarded as a hero in the Scottish community for his biting social commentary and black-line illustrations of Scotland’s class system; 18^th century French publisher and author Pierre Desloges who wrote and published several political books during the French Revolution;  Irish 19^th century watercolourist Sampson Towgood Roch who set a trend with his 1820s portraits of ordinary lives;  15th century Spanish nun and feminist writer Teresa de Cartagena and French sculptor Hippolyte Montillie who created a bronze statue  L’Honneur dominant la Discords before moving to America in 1901. I must give a little shout-out to English carpenter Robert ‘Mouseman of Kilburn’ Thompson, who included his signature – a little mouse – on every furniture item he created. I find this adorable. Other favourites: American major league baseball player William “Dummy” Hoy and human anatomy illustrator Katherine Jane Gilmore in Victorian London. I nod towards MacCoinnich Bodhar (Deaf Mackenzie), AKA Francis Humberstone Mackenzie the 1st Baron Seaforth (1754-1815), who was a reformist in favour of anti-slavery, parliamentarian, and all-round pompous ass.  But I digress.

Across the sub-genres of Romance, almost all deaf characters could lip-read with ease and have no problem communicating with a wide range of people and often all day (lip-reading is as demanding as playing a fast-paced video game). It’s well known that lip-reading in a candle-lit or dim room is near impossible and yet, many authors had their characters lip-reading with ease in that condition. Authors occasionally forgot that their characters were deaf as many had those characters conversing in the dark, which amused me so much.

There is also a solid belief among authors (and readers) that deafness goes hand in hand with mutism, which I found frustrating because it’s the biggest misconception that Deaf, deafened and hard of hearing people are still battling against today. Mutism is a separate disability, which has nothing to do with deafness. The old terms ‘deaf-mute’ and ‘deaf and dumb’ refer to deaf people who chose to communicate in finger-spelling or sign language, not speech. The frequency use of these terms in 19^th-century news and Victorian fiction had unfortunately created and fostered an incorrect belief that it meant deaf people literally couldn’t speak.  It’s a shame that this belief is still very much alive in today’s fiction and, of course, the media.

There’s also a belief that there is no degree of deafness as almost all authors have made their deaf characters completely deaf*. Complete deafness in real life is as common as violet eyes, e.g. it’s a rarity. However, there are some authors who chose to go against that. As far as I can see, Catherine Anderson, author of Annie’s Song, is the only one who showed that her deaf heroine could hear some sounds, but couldn’t identify them anyway. This is very common among deaf people in real life, the past and the present.

*There are some authors who opted for the cochlear implant route, such as Neesa Hart’s contemporary romance, A Kiss to Dream On. All right, it’s getting a bit awkward now. Generally, a cochlear implant cannot restore hearing as it’s just a permanent form of a hearing aid, but many romance authors chose to believe it can restore full hearing and portrayed it as such, accordingly. However, it’s a sensitive – and often, controversial – topic for many, particularly Deaf people and parents of deaf children, so I won’t discuss those books here because I don’t want to be dragged into a debate about the ethics of cochlear implants. Anyroad, it doesn’t change the fact that complete deafness is a rarity.

Speaking of rarity, we still haven’t found a SF romance, futuristic romance or – apart from Vivian Arend’s Wolf Signs (Samhain, 2009) with deafened heroine as a werewolf – paranormal romance that features deaf characters. Does anyone know any?

There are deaf characters in LGBT fiction, but the cataloguing is still rather chaotic because a few suggested titles with those they characterised as deaf when in fact they aren’t. Their disability is mutism which, as I said earlier, has absolutely nothing to do with deafness. In gay fiction, there are 12 titles listed and for the m/m genre, about eight. I read only two, though, which are St. Nacho’s – Z A Maxfield (Loose ID, 2009, contemporary m/m) and Learning to Dharn – Ann Somervile (2011, alternate historical reality m/m). I suspect there are more, so I welcome suggestions and recommendations.

Surprisingly, there is no romantic novel that features a deaf lesbian, deaf asexual person or any other LGBTIQ person. Believe me, we’ve trawled through the Pink Library on our knees with a fine comb. All we could find is a couple of casual references, found in an avid reader’s diary, to an unidentified short story. Rather strange, don’t you think? But if you know there is one out there, please do let us know.

I think I have rambled long enough. Here are some books that may interest you:

The Raging Quiet – Sherryl Jordan (Simon Pulse, 2004, YA historical fiction)

Set somewhere in medieval-like England, farmer’s daughter Marnie marries a lord’s son to ensure her mother could continue living at their farm after her father dies. Her husband, who’s older than Marnie by twenty years, takes her to a coastal village to live at his beloved cottage.  As she struggles to settle in her new life, she’s treated as an outcast by suspicious villagers. She makes a daily escape to the countryside where she one day meets Raven, a seemingly wild-natured handsome boy her age.

Marnie eventually discovers he’s deaf, not a devil-cursed lunatic that the village thinks he is. This prompts her to learn hand gestures to communicate with him, which helps to deepen their friendship and ease their loneliness. It’s Happy Days for them, until her husband’s killed in an accident. This prompts the village to believe that Marnie had used witchcraft to kill her husband, to make room for Raven in her life. Marnie pretty much goes “Are you really that stupid, villagers?” while Raven nods in support. That’s when everything goes to the dogs for all involved.

Although it’s a YA novel, it’s one of the most compelling I read. To be honest, I can’t even articulate because basically, it has to be read to believe. I felt Sherryl Jordan did a decent job with her portrayal of a deaf character. And frankly, by making dates and places as vague as possible, Jordan got away with certain details she wouldn’t otherwise have with a straightforward historical novel.

Mouth to Mouth – Erin McCarthy (Brava, 2005, contemporary romance).

See Jane’s review of the 2009 reissued edition here to find out why it won a B grade off her. http://dearauthor.com/book-reviews/review-mouth-to-mouth-by-erin-mccarthy/.

Ashblane’s Lady – Sophia James (Harlequin Historical Romance).

In spite of my dislike for this (not only because it’s set in Scotland, I wasn’t keen on James’s portrayal of a deaf character), author Jane Beckenham gave Ashblane’s Lady a grade A, as seen in her DA review here.  http://dearauthor.com/book-reviews/guest-review-ashblanes-lady-by-sophia-james/

The Tailor’s Daughter – Janice Graham (St. Martin’s Press, 2006, Victorian historical novel).

Gifted seamstress and trader’s daughter Veda Grenfell falls in love with Harry Breadalbane, a viscount and heir to Earldom, but she believes she could not marry him because of a huge class gap between them. And yet,

I know zero about Victorian fashion and all that sort, but this story – told through Veda’s eyes – had my attention from its opening line – “We all believed I had passed through the worst”, which goes on to describe how typhoid fever almost took her life but left her deafened instead – to the end. Not a typical historical romance either.  I agree with one GoodReads reviewer who describes this novel as “schizophrenic” for not being able to make its mind up whether it’s a historical romance, historical fiction or historical mystery. This leaves an impression that it’s a mildly messy hybrid of all three.  In spite of this and the occasionally modern voice, I enjoyed it all the same. Must be one of those rare days when I’m not so nitpicky.  I’d tear it into pieces if I dared to re-read, I bet. Silly, really.

Baby, I’m Yours – Susan Andersen (Avon, 1998, contemporary road romance)

Bail enforcer Sam McKade mistakes deaf school teacher Catherine MacPherson for her twin sister Kaylee, who’s wanted for grand auto theft, and takes her on road from Seattle to somewhere in Miami. It’s been a while since I read it, but I remember enjoying it quite a bit.

Technically, it’s not a ‘deaf’ book but Catherine is a CODA (child of Deaf adult) and a deaf school teacher. There is a brief scene in which she communicates with a deaf stranger in sign language, which was a pleasant surprise.  At least Catherine is a lot nicer than Judith Lee, also a deaf school teacher, from Richard Marsh’s Edwardian-era detective novel, The Adventures of Judith Lee (1916). Well okay, Judith Lee is cooler for knowing Jujitsu, which she used on baddies without qualms.

Note from Jane: this is the book that has the hilarious typo and is only $2.99!: Goodreads | Amazon | BN | nook | Sony | Kobo

I haven’t read those books listed below, but they were recommended by romance readers over last few years:

Sweet Talk – Susan Mallery (HQN, first book in the Keyes Sisters trilogy).

It won a grade B from Jane who reviewed it here. http://dearauthor.com/book-reviews/overall-b-reviews/review-sweet-talk-by-susan-mallery/

Heart Sounds – Michele Johns (Harper Monogram, 1993, American historical romance).

A friend swore on her family’s fiercely protected recipe book that this American historical romance features the best portrayal of a deaf character she’d come across.

Beyond Paradise – Elizabeth Doyle (Zebra, 2004, pirate historical romance).

Somewhere in the Caribbean during the 1660s, the legendary but imprisoned pirate hero Jacques has somehow turned posh girl Sylvie Davant into his hostage during a bid for freedom from his dank prison.

The Gate to Eden – Cathy McDavid (Dorcester, 2006, American western historical romance)

Widowed Maddie Campbell solicits donations from the rich (translation: steals from the rich) on the behalf of a struggling coal-mining community and her young deaf daughter. It gets dicey when a mysterious lawman turns up in their town to investigate robberies.

A Hearing Heart – Bonnie Dee (Liquid Silver Books, 2009, American western historical romance)

It does enough to win a B grade from Jayne, as seen in this review here http://dearauthor.com/book-reviews/review-a-hearing-heart-by-bonnie-dee/

On my current deaf/romance reading list, I have Tessa Dare’s Regency-era romance Three Nights With a Scoundrel (2010) that tells a tale of Julian Bellamy craps himself when he realises he has feelings for Lily, his dead best friend’s deaf sister.  I also have Antony John’s acclaimed YA novel, Five Flavours of Dumb (2010), featuring a deaf school student who somehow become the manager of a rock band called Dumb.

Do you have favourites you would like to share? Quite a few recommended Suzanne Brockmann’s military adventure romance, Into the Fire, and Tessa Dare’s Regency romance, Three Nights With a Scoundrel, actually. Did you enjoy those? How about Kristen Hannah’s rather unconventional handling of her heroine’s deafness in her time-travel romance, Once in Every Life? How do you feel about the general portrayal of deafness in fiction? Or other disabilities if you like.

Cheers for now.

Related posts:

1. If You Like Ancient World romances
2. Illustrated Romances
3. Tailor-made Romances

You know that times are tough for writers when a dorky smile isn't enough. Alas!

Describing the books, I'd mention the gadgets and zombies and giant squid (those are popular, right?), but when it comes down to it, they're romance. The world looks a bit Victorian and a bit Regency, but it's not truly either – and the stories feature characters who fall in love on their adventures through that world, which can be both a wondrous and dangerous endeavour (see previous mention of gadgets, zombies, giant squid.)

Everyone has their definition of Steampunk and you, of course, have yours, but not many have explained the origins of their definition, so I’m grabbing this chance to ask: What are the origins of yours?

I first heard the term "steampunk" from one of my professors about ten years ago, while reading Neal Stephenson's THE DIAMOND AGE for a Pop Culture class. So that was the first time the actual term made its way into my head, but I was aware of the *idea* of steampunk for longer, and through various formats.

For example, I remember reading about the London Science Museum creating a working difference engine, and "what if" speculation went hand-in-hand with it. Or reading about Victorian inventions that simply didn't work – but there's always fun in imagining they did. And on the fictional side, there were shows like "The Wild Wild West" (I have my grandpa to thank for that, and Will Smith to blame for my seeing the movie in 1999.) And then it seems like every time someone in a comic book or novel travels back in time, the guy from the future constructs some gadget out of gears and gunpowder, and armored knights end up riding bicycles.

Just little things, adding up over the years – and so by the time I first heard the term steampunk, I was already familiar with science fiction within a historical setting. Steampunk just gave it a name – and a cool name, at that.

What is your definition of Steampunk?

Science fiction in a historical setting that predates a widespread use of electricity and/or internal combustion engines powered by diesel or gasoline. But although I say "historical," the actual era doesn't matter all that much to me. If the alternate history timeline creates a world where people are still running steam engines in 2511 A.D., that's just as steampunk as a story set in the Victorian era. In that case, the pre-modern technology gives the feel of a historical setting, which works well enough for me.

There have been some heated discussions about Steampunk as some feel there are definitive elements that differs Steampunk from Alternative Historical Fantasy and Gaslight Fantasy. Do you agree with this school of thinking?

Yes, except that I'm going to add a BUT as big as my own. As I described above, my definition of steampunk is "historical science fiction." And so the more supernatural/fantasy elements that are used in the worldbuilding, the more those books move from steampunk to gaslight and fantasy – BUT.

I also don't think that it's feasible for readers, booksellers, and publishers to keep differentiating between these subgenres on a large scale (the problem of labelling and shelving alone would have booksellers across the nation *headdesking* together). And so I wouldn't be surprised if every alternative history with steampunk elements is going to be lumped into a "steampunk' category. Like "paranormal romance' contains demons, vampires, fairies, shapeshifters, and so on, I think "steampunk romance' will inevitably become a catch-all term for historical romances that contain even a hint of gadgetry or a dirigible, even if the paranormal elements are stronger.

Does this bother me? No. (Not any more. I'll admit to biting my tongue the first few times I heard of books containing vampires and werewolves and systems of magic being described as steampunk.) Do I understand the frustration that steampunk purists are feeling? Absolutely. (I also suspect that there are quite a few who are just as irritated by the idea of steampunk romance.) Unlike paranormal romance, which is a big umbrella underneath which all of those supernatural creatures like vampires and demons naturally fit, other subgenres are being crammed beneath the steampunk romance umbrella. I think it's perfectly understandable that steampunk fans are saying, "Hold on a second. Tell me again why you're calling that steampunk?"

But I also don't know if there's a better alternative to cramming them together as they enter the romance genre. Steampunk romance is so new, and there isn't a lot of it – but there are several books which look a lot like steampunk, and share the same elements, and they fit more comfortably under this umbrella than under "historical paranormal" or something similar. And so I don't have a problem at all if books that are better described as gaslight, or "steampunk-y," or "with steampunk elements" are just called steampunk.

It's not perfect, but I think it's easier to have the steampunk classification more open than narrow – especially for readers new to the genre (and most romance readers are.) If a book with steampunk elements opens up a new subgenre for them because of a shared name, I'm happy with that.

You pitched the Iron Seas idea to an editor two years ago, describing it as “The Pirates of the Caribbean meets The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen“. Were these films the ones that sparked the idea?

Oh, god no. Ha! I hadn't even seen The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen at the time I pitched the books (I'd heard too many terrible things about it). No, I used those movies as examples simply because "steampunk" wasn't on the romance-reading radar at the time. It was only last year that we saw BONESHAKER, LEVIATHAN, and SOULLESS come out, and speculation and buzz about the genre began to pick up in romance circles. Two years ago, there wasn't even that.

And so I didn't want to scare my editor or my agent by throwing "steampunk" at them, because it wasn't an established romance subgenre, and no one had any idea yet whether steampunk would be marketable. So I compared it to movies that I thought would offer them the best visual idea of what the series might look like, and to show that there was an audience for it. (Perhaps not so much with the League movie, but definitely PotC.)

So the movies didn't inspire or influence me at all, but they did help me sell the Iron Seas. My editor came back and said that the steampunk series sounded different and fresh, and bought the first two books on the basis of that pitch … which was a huge leap of faith on her part. She was familiar with my voice and my previous work, of course, but I hadn't even given her any pages at that point, just the idea. Maybe the steampunk buzz began earlier among publishers, and it was just a right-pitch-at-the-right-time moment.

Those first two books are Here There Be the Monsters and The Iron Seas?

The first novella and novel, yes. The second novel, tentatively titled Heart of Steel, will be out next year.

I was petrified when I started your novella, Here There Be the Monsters, because I so badly wanted it to live up to my idea of a Steampunk romance as other authors' Steampunk-labelled romances – although great reads – didn't. Some are pretty much Gaslight Romance and some, Alternative Historical Fantasy. Honestly, you have no idea how ecstatic I was when I found that Here There Be the Monsters really is a Steampunk romance. But what makes it work is the romantic element. This is your intention, isn't it? Did you find ensuring the world-building wouldn't overwhelm your characters' romantic relationships difficult?

I love steampunk, but I love romance more. So I always try to tie the romantic plot and character arcs to the main action of the story, so that the worldbuilding elements provide as much of the romantic and external conflict as possible – but the romance itself drives the story.

Is it difficult? Yes and no. I always worry (in this series and in my Guardian series) that the worldbuilding details and the external conflicts will overwhelm the romance – but I think this is true in any subgenre of romance. Spy subplots and political intrigues and clothing in historicals. The suspense part of romantic thrillers. The details of magic systems in paranormals. It doesn't matter what subgenre you're working in, you have to make certain that the romance isn't overwhelmed by the world you're building.

For me, the easiest way to maintain that balance (and it doesn't always work) is by making certain that the worldbuilding provides the romantic tension and shapes their characters. Whatever stands between my heroes and heroines has been created by the world itself, and so the only way to clear a path to the HEA is to describe that part of the world – and describe the problem they face – and so both are presented at the same time to the reader. When all of that work is done, and the romantic conflict and the world are well established, then my characters can solve the problem (or maneuver around it.)

So it's all tied together. I don't switch between the romantic plot and the how-does-this-world-work plot. The progression of the romance can't be separated from the progression of the worldbuilding or the external plot – and I try not to have any Meanwhile, back at the ranch, a dastardly plan unfolds- moments. The hero and heroine are always in the center of the action, and so even if they aren't gazing lustfully at each other, they're together and moving forward.

What I find interesting about both stories is that they take place after Rhys Trahaearn (hero of The Iron Duke) freed Britain from the control of the feared Horde. What's the story behind this decision, regarding the timeline?

Two reasons, both completely selfish. I've been writing the Guardian series, which is on a long arc toward an ultimate victory. But as much as I love the Guardians, I didn't want to do the same thing again with my steampunk series: Small victories with each book, and the stakes rising with each installment. Building up a few characters to be the Big Hero/ine in the final book, the ultimate confrontation. It's a new series, and I wanted to do something different.

And I don't intend to continue with the Guardian series after the last book in that arc, but a part of me wants to. Because I want to explore the aftermath and the consequences – no victory comes without a price, and a part of me wants to tell the stories of those who paid for it. And so with the Iron Seas, I had the victory over the Horde come first.

So I've got a powerful empire on the verge of collapse. I've got nations, small and large, scrambling for power, for their place in the New World, and desperately trying to hold onto the ruins of the Old World. I've got villains who aren't as easily identifiable (no demons here), heroes and heroines who've been beaten down and scared to death, but are still trying to build their little piece of Earth into something better. There's no big arc, just isolated stories about different parts of this world.

And between the two series, I'm writing everything I want to be writing right now, and it keeps writing in both series fresh.

In the Romance genre, the settings of British-set romances are usually England and Scotland so it's pretty much left to two authors Mary Balogh and Margaret Moore to wave the Welsh flag through their romance novels. Why did you choose Wales as Rhys Trahaearn's stomping ground?

Three reasons: coal, iron, and an early vision of The Iron Duke that didn't pan out. In the Iron Seas world, everyone on the British isle has been affected by the Horde occupation, and all of its population oppressed and changed in some way – but the Welsh got the worst of it as the Horde severely modified their bodies and enslaved a good portion of the population to work the mines.

Originally, I'd planned to have the first book in the Iron Seas series engage with the conflicts and issues that arose between Wales and England after the Horde left, especially in regards to coal and iron – resources that everyone needs, under the control of a population tired of being used to procure it for a foreign ruler. But as I worked it through, I realized the book was becoming far more political than I wanted it to, and was lacking the sense of adventure that I'd envisioned for the series. So I changed the focus, but Rhys Trahaearn's birthplace remained the same.

How do you pronounce Rhys Trahaearn's name, anyway?

He would pronounce it trah-HI-arn. But everyone in London who learned his name by reading the newssheets or who first heard it in the parlors and streets would probably call him trah-HARN.

One of most interesting things about your Iron Seas stories is the sinister Horde and its nanotechnology, and how it affects various characters including those two heroines – and formerly, children of the Horde – Ivy, who has artificial arms, and Mina who has a nanotech-infested body. How much research did you do on technology, or did you make up as you went along?

For the nanotech, it was a little bit of both – research and just making it up – but even the made up stuff didn't seem so farfetched after doing the research. It seems that every week there is announcement about nanotech and the incredible things it can do, or some future application for it is revealed and under development. So some of the uses that I made up for it in the Iron Seas didn't feel that impossible. And although the Horde's technology evolved differently than ours did, they were using steam-powered tech 500 years before its widespread use in our "real' timeline – so I thought that was enough time for them to have developed nanotech.

As for the other technology – the steam engines, the influence machines, the dirigibles – I've tried to root that as close to reality as possible, and almost all of it comes from research of real historical tech. There are differences, of course – Leonardo da Vinci truly did design a human-shaped automaton, but he never built an army of them as he'd been rumoured to have done in the Iron Seas world – and I've taken a few liberties with efficiency and functionality, but there is very little in the Iron Seas that couldn't have been created or hadn't been designed by a real historical figure.

The title of your latest novella, Here There Be The Monsters, who are the monsters?

If we define monsters as something huge and frightening, there are several in the story. [Very mild spoilers ahead!] The megalodons and kraken are real monsters in the physical sense. Mad Machen is a human monster, but only because it's an image that he's carefully constructed. The slave traders are monsters (and the worst of the lot, in my opinion.) Ivy's fear of the Horde and of being controlled is a personal monster, as is Eben's fear that he can't offer her everything that she deserves.

So there be many monsters in the novella.

I think quite a few readers are aware that your favourite character from the Guardian series is Colin Ames-Beaumont, who has his own story in Demon Moon. Of all characters in The Iron Duke and Here There Be the Monsters, who’s your favourite character so far and why?

I have a hard time choosing between Ivy and Mina (my two heroines.) I love the heroes, Eben and Rhys, and both stories have several secondary characters about whom I could easily write a story (or five) about: Constable Newberry, Lady Corsair, Dame Sawtooth and Jasper Evans, and Scarsdale, just to start.

Pretty much every character in the Iron Seas has been through some form of hell, so it's not that Ivy and Mina are stronger or have survived worse than anyone else. But at the beginning of their stories, they are both in a position where they don't have much power – in society or compared to the heroes. They're vulnerable, and they *know* they're vulnerable. So they both have to use their wits and their will to get what they need, and to protect themselves … and they have to be smarter and often more stubborn than the people who can overpower them. They have to be bold women, but they aren't fearless – oftentimes they are scared to death, but they still take chances to protect themselves or the people they care about.

And I love that about both of them. They aren't the same character in any way – Ivy is much sweeter than Mina, who has a tendency to dislike and distrust everyone she meets. Mina is more emotionally reserved, whereas Ivy is quick to laugh and to anger. But I really loved writing both, and being in their heads – I honestly can't choose between them.

Not even with a gun pointing at your head?

Ah, well, if a gun is pointed at my head, then it's probably being held by Lady Corsair – and by this time next year, after I've written her book, she might very well top the list. So Lady Corsair it is!

But, okay. If I have to choose, it would probably be Mina. But Ivy has robot arms! -okay, still Mina, and perhaps only because it was my first time writing a heroine with a family who loves each other so fiercely. Most of my characters are Guardians or vampires, so their families are long dead – but Mina's relationship with her mother, father, and brothers was an enormous part of her character, and it became one of my favourite parts of her character, as well.

For what it's worth, my current favourite is Lady Corsair (a world-weary but easily amused, savvy and mysterious captain who appears in both stories). Will there be more after the third Iron Seas story?

As many as I can write without repeating myself – or until my publisher says, "Enough!" I've set up the world so that I can explore a different part of it with every book, and so I hope to keep the series fresh. Each story should stand alone and bring something new to the Iron Seas world.

The second novel will be more of an on-the-ground, Tomb Raider/Indiana Jones type of adventure (there I go again, comparing them to movies) and in the third, I hope to write with a Western flavor – with a twist, of course, since the U.S. doesn't exist in the Iron Seas world, and the Wild West develops a bit differently than in our world.

At this moment, however, I only have contracts for two books and one novella. So those are coming for certain, and the rest depends upon both reader and publisher interest.

I'm desperate to know your answer to "How can there be a Wild West if the U.S. doesn't exist?", but I'll stick with this question instead: Will you have a map of the Iron Seas world drawn up for us readers at your site?

I hope to have maps and an alternate history timeline up by the time the Iron Duke releases. They won't be needed to understand the world, but I think would be nice extras. So, yes. I can't promise that the maps will be pretty (I have to rely on my Photoshop skills) but they'll be there.

Nice one. Thank you so much for finding the time to do this interview.

Thank you.

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As I explained to her, I couldn't recall those book titles easily – let alone spell or pronounce them – when making book recommendations to various friends. I can only say, "Urm, just google her name when you get home. That's if you could even remember to do that." The only ones I could remember were Many Roads Home and On Wings, Rising (but I sometimes cocked this one up by remembering it as "On Rising Wings").

The debate got me thinking about a reader's memory and book titles from the romance genre. Some say the romance genre probably has the biggest output of novels in history of literature. With so many romance novels around, how do we remember certain books?

I think there are two usual ways of remembering a book: a title or an author. It depends, though. There are some readers who manage to remember both. There are some readers who couldn't remember either, so they could only remember the details of a story.

For the romance genre, I think it's an author's name that readers remember the most, which is somewhat different from readers of general literature who are likely to recommend just titles alone. Gone With the Wind. A Clockwork Orange. White Teeth. To Kill a Mocking Bird. Fight Club. Women in Love. Life of Pi. Far From the Madding Crowd. Birdsong. Forever Amber. The Beach. Pride and Prejudice. My Brilliant Career. The Da Vinci Code. The Poisonwood Bible. Whether you read all of these or not, it's likely you recognise certain titles as the work of so-and-so.

That's not usually the case with romance titles; probably because the majority of romance titles tend to be generic. Or awkward as hell, like some of Ann Somerville's book titles and HQN author Carla Cassidy's legendary HQN title, Pregnesia.

Sure, there are some titles that the majority recognises, such as Dream Man, Outlander, McKenzie's Mountain, Lord of Scoundrels, Rejar, and so on. But these tend to appear frequently in lists of favourite books, which make it easier for some of us to memorise those titles.

So I believe it is authors' names general romance readers remember the most. And I truly believe that without an author's name, most readers would struggle to recognise a non-distinctive title as a certain author's work. Once we know whose books we're discussing, we recall titles quite easily. Take a recent book discussion for example. Someone asked about Nobody's Baby But Mine and there wasn't a response. One person asked, "Who wrote NBBM?" It was Susan Elizabeth Phillips. That prompted a mass of responses from readers. I have to admit when I saw that title, I thought it was a Susan Andersen book, but I eventually realised I confused it with Andersen's contemporary romance series (Baby, I'm Yours; Be Mine, Baby, and Baby, Don't Go).

And how about a book series with similar titles? It practically kills me! Sometimes, I have a problem remembering which story belongs to which title. Such as Mary Balogh's Simply series, Amanda Quick's one-word titles (Mistress, Seduction, etc.) and Meljean Brook's Demon series.   I still don't know how readers manage to do this with a longer book series, such as J.D. Robb's In Death series, Lora Leigh's ??? series, and Laurell K. Hamilton's Anita Blake series. How do you do it? Without checking a book database or reviews?

I did wonder if book titles taken from songs or films would work better because of a memory association? Julia Quinn's film-inspired titles, such as Ten Things I Love About You (Film: Ten Things I Hate About You), How to Marry a Marquis (How to Marry a Millionaire), The Viscount Who Loved Me (The Spy Who Loved Me), To Sir Philip, With Love (To Sir, With Love), and so on.   (Note: many of these films were based on novels so let's ignore this little mountain.)

How about Harlequin/Mills & Boon book titles? Would it be unwise of me to go there? Hell, yeah, but I'm going there, anyway.   I'm talking about the sort of these titles – I'm hyper-linking those titles in case you don't believe me – The Nurse's Brooding Boss, From Playboy to Papa!, Tamed: the Barbarian King, And Babies Make Five, High-Society Secret Baby; Propositioned Into a Foreign Affair, Daddy Devastating; Fixed Up with Mr. Right?, Mistress: Pregnant By the Spanish Billionaire; Bachelor’s Bought Bride, Twelve-Gauge Guardian, One Night with the Wealthy Rancher, Posh Doc, Society Wedding; Lost in a Stallion's Arms, The Illegitimate King, Good Girl or Gold-Digger?, Bedded by Blackmail, and Executive’s Pregnancy Ultimatum. You get the idea.

I can understand why this kind of these titles exists. A typical HQN/M&B title usually summarises the key elements of a story to help readers – usually while shopping in a supermarket – to decide which to buy without having to read a book blurb. In a way, a HQN/M&B title functions just like a headline of a magazine or newspaper.

But honestly, some HQN/M&B titles are sheer (excuse my language) bat-shit crazy and hard to memorise.   How do readers remember any of those titles? Could you easily recall those titles when making recommendations to friends?

In short, what I'd like to know is how do you remember generic or awkward book titles? Or even remember all titles of a series? Could you even remember which story goes with a title of a book series? What is your usual method of remembering book titles (or indeed, authors' names)?

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The book series revolves around four childhood friends, who share a love for weddings that led each to develop a speciality of their own: photography, bakery, organisational skills, and floristry, which in turn led them to form a wedding planning company: VOWS.

Vision in White (ViS from now on) is the story of photographer Mackensie “Mac” Elliot and high school teacher Carter Maguire. (I should say at this point that even after finishing this game twice, I still haven’t quite fully understood their story, so forgive me if I cocked up some story details during this review. Please feel free to correct me in comments.)

Official blurb:

When a casual fling turns steamy for a brilliant wedding photographer, life remains less-than-picture perfect. Relying on girlfriends to cope with the reality of her past, will Mackensie capture the romance, or will her narcissistic mother and fear of commitment be the prophetic snapshot of her future? Take part in Nora Roberts’ best-selling novel in

Nora Roberts Vision in White

, a fun Hidden Object game.

I haven’t read the novel so I went into this game blind. When the game opened to a splash page, my first thought was “Pretty.” And a couple of seconds later, the next thought: “White. A lot of white.” I had no idea how much this would affect me later in the game.

Before the game started up, a video of Nora Roberts herself appeared. I didn’t have sound on -   thanks to a sound card problem – and there were no subtitles, so I didn’t know what she talked about. I’m assuming it was a welcome introduction. After the usual round (configure settings in Options if necessary; type in your name in Players and then click to play), a dialog pop-up appears:  Timed Mode or Carefree Mode.

In  Carefree mode, you take time playing the game and in  Timed Mode, it’s thirty minutes per chapter with a countdown, which can be seen on the clock face. As far as I can see, difficulty levels and four mini games in both  Timed Mode and  Carefree Mode aren’t different.

I had forgotten to let the timer run its course to see what would happen. Having played  ViS twice, I don’t have the energy to fire it up again. Perhaps a DA reader could confirm my guess: when you run out of time, you have to start from the beginning of a chapter you were in.

In the main layout, there is a bar located on the left side with a clock face at top, a list area in the middle, and a Hints system with four decorated letters – VOWS – below. Those four letters are hidden randomly within a playable scene. When you locate all VOWS letters, you gain a hint. Some were devilishly hard to find, but fret not: the Hints system will recharge itself within a minute if you couldn’t find all VOWS letters when you have no hints left.

The Hints system has a feature I’d not seen in other games I played so far. When you click on the Hints system, an orange rectangle arrow appears. You just simply point and click it on an item on the list, allowing you to decide instead of letting the game decide which item it’d highlight. I really liked this feature.

Vision in White is a surprisingly straightforward HOG, with four rotating mini wedding-related games: cake decoration, photography, flower arrangement, and table escorting.

Each of those mini-games – which didn’t take me longer than a minute – is tied to each of four best friends: Mac the photographer, Parker the organiser, Laurel the cake maker, and Emma the florist. When you complete one of those mini games through the game, you gain a bonus hint. You can skip a mini game if you don’t need a bonus point.

I skipped every instance of the cake decoration mini-game because some colour shades were too subtle. The icing, for instance, has eight colours: ivory, white, pale green, beige, darker beige and so on. I admit that each time this mini-game appeared, I swore at the monitor. I detested it that much.

Almost all objects in playable scenes are related to Mac or Carter’s life – clothes, shoes, photography items, organising, wedding theme, school room, and so on. I was grateful for this, to be honest. Each HOG scene is related to the events within the story. For example, when Mac’s friends decide to cheer Mac up by taking her out to a night club, we get a playable scene of champagne glasses, shoes, handbags, ear-rings and telephone numbers all over the place inside a hired limo.

Some hidden objects were near impossible to find, because some were colour-coordinated with bigger objects. Some objects were so tiny that it bordered on pixel hunting. At times like this, I relied on Hints to help me out because too many times, my eyes kicked and screamed when I had my face close to the laptop monitor screen to find those objects. So this would probably frustrate those with poor visibility.

Vision in White is eye-pleasing, but I eventually dreaded playable scenes with all things white or other pale colours – the snow, wedding dresses, table cloths, windows, pale pink flowers, white-grey VOWS letters, snowflakes, white birds, and so on. There was so much whiteness that it surprisingly hurt my eyes. Because of this I had to take breaks from the game. Not all scenes are that pale, but there were enough to affect my gaming.

Although every scene is tied to the story, I didn’t have a strong sense of the story itself. It’s a series of impressions, really. A synopsis of the story, even. Actually, I admit I thought Mac was actually Nora Robert herself, probably because of the NR video at the start, because both have red short hair and a similar taste in clothes. Heh!

As far as I can see, Mac appeared head-strong, assertive, a go-getter, and passionate about photography, but commitment-phobic due to her mother’s antics. She became friendly with a client’s friend, Carter Maguire, who came across as a warm, friendly, laid-back and considerate person. As the game progressed, it became clear that the angst lay with Mac and that Carter was pretty much her pillar of support and stability, which I thought was nice. It was a bland and safe romance, basically, but it would be good for players at 14 or over. As far as I can recall, it doesn’t feature drugs, smoking, irresponsible actions and such. There is an implication of Mac and Carter going upstairs after an evening together, but you never see them kissing and sharing a bed. There is a negative portrayal of Mac’s mother, though.

Looking on the bright side, the  ViS storyline is  much more coherent and “realistic’ than the one in  Harlequin Presents: Hidden Object of Desire. Although I have no idea if the game was faithful to the novel, I think players who have already read the novel would probably enjoy it a lot more. You don’t need to read the novel first to play the game, though. Well, it didn’t affect my game play.

As a player who prefers adventure-style HOGs, I found ViS rather dull, but there isn’t anything wrong with  ViS. It was bland and inoffensive, but it delivered what it promised. It’s a matter of gaming preferences, really, as it seems much more suited to those who prefer traditional HOGs. With this in mind, I feel  ViS deserves a B-.

The next game adaptation of Nora Roberts’s  Bride Quartet series is  Bed of Roses, featuring florist Emma Grant and architect Jack Cooke, and it’ll be released at the end of this year. Further adaptations of the  Bride Quartet series will be released during 2011.

Vision in White is available as free one-hour demo: Windows. As far as I can see, the Mac and Linux versions are not yet available.

Related posts:

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Sometime last year I heard about Harlequin Presents: Hidden Object of Desire, created by Gunnar Games, for BigFishGames.com. As a veteran traditional adventure gamer and long-time romance reader but new to Hidden Object Gaming (HOG), I couldn’t resist giving Harlequin Presents: Hidden Object of Desire a try, so I bought a downloadable copy.

The official blurb:

Allie’s on a quest to find some breaking news in the Kingdom of Adamas, but must now choose between her friend`s well-being and true love! The bachelor Prince of Aristo is the most enchanting man she has ever met, but she must fend off his charming advances long enough to figure out what is going on. Help Allie find valuable clues in

Harlequin Presents: Hidden Object of Desire

, an exciting Hidden Object game. Please note: the included free Harlequin novel contains romantic themes.

The last line – “Please note: the included free Harlequin novel contains romantic themes.” – amused me so much that I couldn’t stop smiling while I waited for the game download via BigFishGames.com to complete. It took between fifteen and twenty-five minutes on ordinary broadband, so I imagine it’d take roughly an hour and half for those on dial-up.

Because of a book cover on the start-up page, I thought the game was an adaptation of Sandra Marton’s Harlequin Presents romance, Billionaire Prince, Pregnant Mistress, but I was wrong. The cover is to show which book is offered as a freebie in form of a digital book (PDF), which comes with the game.

Hidden Object of Desire sets in Harlequin Presents’s Royal House of Karedes universe, which has so far spawned eight Royal House of Karedes romances – written by Sharon Kenderick, Melanie Milburne; Natalie Anderson, Carol Marinelli, Marion Lennox; Kate Hewitt, Chantelle Shaw, and Sandra Marton – during 2009. Oh, I see. On with the game, then.

As the game starts, an open book appears. American reporter Allie (no surname) and her photographer Shaun, are in Adamas, a wealthy-looking town on a Mediterranean island, to cover the Aristan crown prince Adrian Karedes’ thirtieth birthday celebration. Okay dokey. I clicked to continue.

After Allie and Shaun arrived outside the hotel, a pop-up dialog appears:

The story-based conversations that appear at the beginning and end of each scene can be toggled on and off in the options menu. Would you like to skip all story dialog now?

I had no choice but chortle at that. It seemed such a weird option. However, had I known how the story would go at the time, I would have clicked “Yes’. Double-clicked, even.

In the game layout, there is a bar on the left side, which has three areas: the list bar, the Hint bar, and the Menu bar (which contains Play, Options, Load, Quit). In Options under Menu, there are two options: Easy or Hard. I tried both ways and the differences lies with the Hard level, which doesn’t offer colour-coded clues; mini games are a little more challenging (read: more interesting); a hint bar takes a bit longer to recharge, and the HQN logo isn’t always easy to locate.

In the main screen area, this is where you pay attention to either a puzzle or an episode of the story, which usually occurs between puzzles to mark the progress of the story.

You, as Allie or Shaun, must solve puzzles and mini games to advance the plot. What kind of puzzles and mini games are these? Well, the majority of puzzles are the hidden object games. Basically, a list of objects appears on the sidebar and you have to hunt for those listed objects in a location, such as a hotel room, a swimming pool, a bar, a prison and so on.

The location is filled with various objects. Some are outright weird, such as a bunny in a hotel room. When you find it, you click on it and it’ll disappear while the object on the list is crossed off. In each playable scene, there is always one object that advances the plot, such as Allie’s party outfit, Shaun’s camera, or pieces of paper (which might then become a jigsaw puzzle).

When you’re stuck or tired of finding a certain object, you simply click on the Hint bar to show a circle of lights over the elusive hidden object.

There are three ways of charging up the “bar’ of the Hint option:

• locate and click a hidden Harlquin logo in a scene (it appears in every playable scene) to give the Hint bar an instant full charge.
• the Hint bar self-charges within thirty seconds
• click on two hidden objects in a quick succession will feed a shot of charge to the Hint bar.

If you randomly click around the playable scene too often in a go, the cursor will freeze for a couple of seconds to remind you this is draining the Hint bar. The rest of the puzzles are jigsaw puzzles, memory games ( and logic puzzles (all involves numbers, which I initially found alarming as I’m dyscalculic, but I managed to solve them without help; it’s that easy). If you get stuck or bored with a certain mini game, you can always click on “Skip’ (which appears after a minute or so) to bypass this mini game.

The overall design makes it simple enough for anyone to learn how to play the game with ease.

Still, how was the gameplay? And the story? Ha! What story? Actually, what romance? Let’s be fair-’ there is a plot of sort, which involves a conspiracy against the Prince and it’s down to Allie and Shaun to put a stop to it. It’s quite sad that this plot is a lot more interesting than Allie’s romance with the Prince.

Their romance is narrated through brief conversations and super-short “dates’ in chat bubbles and still graphics (and one in a while, a comic strip). And there is always something happens that cuts their date short. One dance, oops! I have to go. Hi! I’m so sorry I was busy. Want to go for a horse ride? After a cheesy comic strip, oops! I have to go. And on it goes. I mean, seriously, the romantic development of Allie and her Prince barely exists.

In a way, it’s quite ironic that for a game to revolve around the Harlequin branding so heavily, we as players don’t get to see the actual development of Allie and Prince Adrian’s relationship. Prince Adrian dashed here and there so when he or Allie made love declarations, it prompted me to say, “Based on what? You didn’t even see him that much. You saw his advisor a lot more, for heaven’s sake.” I felt it would be better if it was Prince Adrian who solved the puzzles, not Allie’s colleague Shaun who seemed to have more fun by getting tangled with a conspiracy to steal the Prince’s place in the throne.

Either way, Allie and Prince Adrian of Harlequin Presents: Hidden Object of Desire wins an award for having the shortest courtship in history of romance genre. I was going to say one day, but I can’t be sure. There isn’t really a good sense of time transition. At least, not for me.

As for the gameplay? I felt there were too many Hidden Object sequences that didn’t seem to be that interesting. I would have liked it more if it was balanced with mini games and puzzles. I enjoyed the Map puzzle (on the Hard level) the most. It was challenging and interesting.

Although I was new to casual gaming, I wasn’t impressed. I was gutted, to be honest, especially after I played a couple of other HOGs. Because it could have been so much better. Good HOGs do exist. Such as Empress of the Deep: The Darkest Secret, which is probably the best and most enjoyable HOG I played so far.

Could a romance work within a HOG? A couple of months ago, I was roped in as a beta tester on Tiger Eye, Part 1: Curse of the Riddle Box, a HOG adaptation of Marjorie M. Liu’s debut romance novel, and having played it, I certainly think it’s possible.

But this doesn’t mean Hidden Object of Desire is the worst game (A Vampire Romance: Paris Stories wins that award; hands down) because it isn’t. It’s just that- well, it’s average. Forgettable, even.

If Harlequin issues another HOG, I’d probably go for it because I can’t help but hope it’s an improvement on Hidden Object of Desire. Until then, I’d advise you to give the free one-hour trial a try to see if you would enjoy it.

Chances are- you probably would if you don’t have the time to devote to a game longer than twenty minutes per day. I played this game four times (for the sake of this review!) and each time, a list of objects was different, which could justify the cost in terms of replayability. C+

Mac version (10.4) and Windows version (XP/Vista) A one-hour trial is available for both operating systems. Full game: US$6.99 All major payment methods (including paypal) accepted and gift certificates available.

I’ll play and review Vision in White (based on Nora Roberts’s novel of same title) and Tiger Eye, Part 1: Curse of the Riddle (based on Marjorie M. Liu’s novel) next.

Related posts:

1. August Harlequin Presents Lightning Reviews
2. Malle Vallik, Harlequin’s Digital Director, Answers Questions on Harlequin Horizons
3. REVIEW: Hidden by Eve Kenin

Solanin is one of those rare comics that manage to something memorable out of a predictable story premise: a coming-of-age story revolving around the lives of twentysomething college graduates.

The heart of the 432-page comic are Tokyoites Meiko Inoue and her long-time live-in boyfriend Shigeo Naruo, whom she’s been dating for six years since their college days. Naruo is the vocalist-guitarist and lyricist of a struggling rock band, Rotti, but he has no motivation to go far. He instead spends time at home, playing video games and strumming on his guitar; generally being a layabout and a dependant on Meiko’s small income. Neither is showing interest in marriage or all other mod cons. Meanwhile around them are their three close former college friends, who are also members of Naruo’s struggling rock band, Rotti.

The story opens with Meiko working in her office job and she isn’t happy. She – at 24 – is becoming acutely aware of the passing time, and that she might be sinking deep into the rat race as another faceless office worker. It isn’t what she was born for, even though she doesn’t know what she was born for. All she knows is she wants to change. She decides that Naruo – and his band Rotti – may be the key to making her undefined dreams come true. When Meiko announces to Naruo she wants to quit her job, he encourages her to go for it.

And so she does, unknowingly opening a new chapter of their lives that would soon force them to recognise the reality of their future that could affect their relationship, their dying childhood dreams and the purpose of their lives. As they – as well as their former college friends – struggle to figure it all out, something happens that will turn their lives upside down.

That’s the only summary I’m prepared to give because solanin – two volumes bundled as one volume – has a very simplistic storyline that can be summarised in just one page.

Considering a huge number of autobiographical comics out there and the fact solanin actually doesn’t offer originality, I must admit I was surprised how much I liked solanin. This kind of story exists everywhere – in comics, novels, films, and songs, but in this case, it left a deep impact on me and I’m not even sure why.

I suspect it may be because creator Asano clearly has mixed feelings towards his characters. Once in a while we can sense – for example – Asano’s regret through a character’s dialogue or action, which makes us believe it had happened to Asano in real life. It might not, but that’s how intimate solanin seemed. He doesn’t make it that embarrassingly intimate, but just enough to draw you into his characters’ world of memories, reflections, vague misgivings, complicated maze of a long-term relationship, and a hope that refuses to die.

It sounds as if it’s a heavy, woe is me and serious story, but it isn’t. It’s a quiet slice-of-life tale with touches of gentle humour and stark glimpses of universal themes that affect all our lives.

Not only the storyline is simplistic and somewhat episodic, the art is also simplistic and straightforward. In spite of its simplicity, almost all characters are likeable and easy on the eye. There are some bits in panel backgrounds that will make you smile quietly. Asano also has the ability to intensify emotions within his characters and "moments", which makes the simplicity of art work in dialogue-free panels even more poignant.

When the story ended, I didn’t know what to think or say. It wasn’t even dramatic or even, "Holy cow! That was the greatest piece of comic literature ever!" It wasn’t. It was more than that. It left me a feeling I needed to be alone and quiet for a bit. And a thought that the best we can do is to move on, like what those characters may be doing after The End.

In spite of being on a am-so-hot-for-you-that-I’m-going-to-pimp-you-to-everyone-I-know kick for solanin, I did have a couple of problems with it.

First problem, the comic’s navel-gazing occasionally interfered with the story flow. I could imagine some readers may be impatient with the pacing, but the pay-off will be worth the patience as it did for me.

Second problem, considering a number of characters involved, their life issues can be too similar, which can make it a repetitive read. I would have like it a bit more diverse. Occasionally, I felt a couple of characters were neglected. Such as Gotou’s girlfriend who were part of all their lives, but we still don’t know much about her and I found that somewhat frustrating. Why was she so patient with her antic-loving boyfriend? Why was she so understanding about Meiko and Naruto’s fight? I would love to know more about her, but I suspect if Asano allowed that, we would have a three-volume book instead of a two-volume book.

After reading solanin, I read reviews to see what they had to say and almost all experienced the same reaction, which is a pleasant surprise. I think the reason why it’s a hit with many readers is, one could sense Asano’s compassion, sincerity, wry humour and occasional gentle exasperation towards his characters and that experiences and themes in solanin are truly universal.

Although it’s rated 16+, I think it’s fine for readers age +14 and above. In spite of these characters’ college ages, there is no scene of drug abuse, glamorous violence, gratuitous nudity and such. Some characters are smokers, which might be a concern for some parents. I believe sensitive teenagers would probably enjoy solanin because although, there aren’t any fast action scenes, dramatic romantic storylines, or good-looking characters, it’s almost a gentle guide of what may happen in life. It still makes a good read for adult readers, though, because it may remind some of us how it used to be.

If you’re new to comic-reading and would like to start with something simple that will leave you emotionally satisfied, or at least won’t feel you’ve wasted your time, I highly recommend solanin. Grade: B+

Be good, be bad & be safe,

Jaili

This book can be purchased at Amazon.

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The average age of heroine in U.S. romance novels is between 24-26 (and possibly younger in historical romance). And yet according to the Romance Writers of America RWA), the biggest slice of romance reader demographics is “women aged 31-49 who are currently in a romantic relationship.”   (http://www.rwanational.org/cs/readership_stats#Readers**).

Could it be the same reason why the majority of readers prefer their heroines to be virgins or virginal: reclaim the innocence?

**The Age of Romance Readers

The mean and median age of romance novel readers is very close to that of the general population.

• Mean: 44.6 years
• Median: 44.9 years

Those aged 31 to 49 are more likely to read romance and comprise 44 percent of the readership.

Related posts:

1. Genre Labels Poll
2. 2008 Romance Reader Stats
3. Discourteous Discourse & Why Erotica Is Killing the Romance Genre

A passing mention of Twelve Reasons Why I Love Her during a conversation about graphic novels caught attention of the romance reader in me, which prompted me to ask the friend what it was about.

He described it as "a Memento-like story of an average guy’s life with his new girlfriend. It’s all right, I suppose."

His girlfriend pointed out, "You cried and hugged me, didn’t you?" The friend blushed and pretended he didn’t hear her recollection. I cautiously asked, "What, the romantic interest died?"

The girlfriend flashed a grin and answered, "Unlike a certain classic novel, no one threw themselves in front of a train. Don’t worry, it has the, what do you call it again? H.E.A.? You’ll love it."

Unfortunately, although it was published in 2006, Twelve Reasons Why I Love Her is already out of stock. But I decided to review this graphic novel because I was able to score a copy at a small London comic shop. If I could get it, then it should be reasonably easy to get a copy from elsewhere or a library.

Twelve Reasons Why I Love Her is not told in usual chronological order. It’s not even a typical story. It’s broken into twelve vignettes – each has a song listed under a chapter heading – to chart each crucial turning point in the story of Evan and Gwen, two twentysomething New Yorkers, from their first meeting to the present.

Evan is a reasonably easy-going bloke with a tendency to put a foot in his mouth and has somewhat streaks of jealousy and hot temper that oft lands him in Gwen’s bad books. He can be emotionally immature sometimes, but he’s self-aware enough to recognise his flaw. He’s clever enough to be a quick learner when come to making a relationship work by knowing when and how to grovel well.

Gwen is a self-assured and fiercely loyal woman who doesn’t shy from speaking her mind or getting what she wants, but while she is happy to enter a relationship, she has underlying emotional issues that she quietly struggles to resolve. At least she does try to be upfront and honest, the best way she knows how to, without losing a sense of what’s right and wrong (which is highlighted in an adorable vignette).

With their ongoing attempt to settle into their new relationship, will an emotional leftover from Gwen’s past tear them part?

Twelve Reasons Why I Love Her is a simple but adorably honest look, through Evan’s eyes, at a relationship that’s filled with poignant moments, occasionally quirky conversations and little conflicts that many might recognise. It’s almost a love letter from Evan to Gwen to explain why, as the title implies, he loves her.

Evan and Gwen are likeable, but I’d like to share what I learnt. I had mixed feelings about Gwen’s seemingly smug personality, supported by a series of her smirks. I lent the book to my husband to see how he may see Gwen. He found her rather sexy and witty, especially when she was brimmed with quiet confidence. I realised then that I had (mis)interpreted her confidence; a trait I’m used not to seeing in a romantic heroine, especially not in romance novels. It’s both an embarrassment and a mortifying revelation on my part. I think it’s because writer Jamie S. Rich chose to highlight – through Evan’s eyes – the best side of Gwen, even when she was at her worst.

Evan, on the other hand, didn’t get that kind of protection from Jamie S. Rich as we got to see his immature moment or two. It’s actually quite interesting to see how the couple are viewed through Rich’s eyes. It made me wonder if that was how my husband saw me. I asked, of course, considering me being such an inquisitive creature. His answer was quite interesting, similar to Evan’s perspective. Oh, I liked this book for that alone.

The darkest vignette was, I felt, clumsily handled, but when I re-read the book, it worked. However, I still think it needed another vignette to give the Freddie issue some kind of closure. I suppose it may be intended that way, so that we the readers would try to imagine what might have happened – if we were to re-arrange all vignettes in chronological order – in a period between this vignette and the final vignette. Even so, I still would like another vignette. My all-time favourite is, to my surprise, the final vignette.

Since this review is primarily for romance readers, Twelve Reasons Why I Love Her does have the HEA.

Illustrator Joelle Jones’s art is very easy on the eye. The strong black line art is elegant with a strong streak of the 1960s. Almost in Audrey Hepburn style and yet contemporary enough to fit in with today’s world, which makes it rather timeless.

If I were to highlight a selection of romantic comics/graphic novels for romance readers, Twelve Reasons Why I Love Her would be in the selection. I’m still sorry that it’s currently out of stock. Perhaps one day Oni Press will have a mind to do another print run for this rather adorable story.

Twelve Reasons Why I Love Her gets a solid B+ from me, now a devoted follower of author Jamie S. Rich and illustrator Joelle’s works. I managed to get my paws on Jamie S. Rich’s prose novel The Everlasting and illustrated novel, Cut My Hair. I look forward to reading those.

~Jaili

Related posts:

1. GUEST REVIEW: Thirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher
2. Top Ten Reasons I’m Thankful for Romance
3. Four Reasons Why Ebooks Are My Preferred Reading Format

Earlier I sat here at desk, looking out to a window, thinking that it was great the vast expanse of the world is out there with its rich and varied cultures and peoples. If I had the money and the time again, I would travel for as long as possible to enjoy the sights-’some may be memorable and some upsetting-’and to gain insights-’deep and shallow-’from the surroundings and the encounters with strangers. I think many of us were born for such an existance.

Adventuring is part of my family’s lifestyle; almost a way of life. I left home at sixteen because it was expected of me. All my relatives, at least once in their lives, have travelled abroad and some lived there for months and even years. They have returned home when they have felt ready to hang up their travelling bags.   Some of us remain transplanted. I haven’t yet to return home because I feel like I still have much of my journey left.

As it stands, I don’t have the money or, more importantly, time or opportunity.   I’m deskbound these days. For times like this, the best means of travelling is a book. This is why I read every day. Unfortunately, it’s hard to find a contemporary or historical romance novel with an "exotic" setting these days. If there was one, it isn’t usually stated in a book blurb. I usually find them through the word of mouth.

I don’t understand why the romance genre nowadays is so  restrictive with its range of settings. A book is a window to the world, isn’t it? Why offer just a handful of familiar (and overused) countries? Whenever there is a romance conference, there would be a panel of editors that peddles the same old statement: romance novels with exotic settings don’t sell. I do realise the cause of apathy lies with readers, but I want to know why.

Do we prefer to read stories with familiar settings because it’s easier to imagine and therefore doesn’t   interfere with the storytelling? If we were to do word association with 1820s London, a woman in an Empress dress and a chap with a funny-looking hairdo, speaking Heyerseque dialogue springs forth. 1820s Shanghai? What comes to your mind?

When readers mention Europe, what they really mean is Europe that consists just England, Scotland, France, Ireland (Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland) and Italy.The Harlequin Presents’ categories overcome some of these self imposed and silent geographical restrictions. The settings in HPs include Spain, Portugal, Australia and New Zealand and, of course, the popular Sheik settings. For the most part, the rest of Europe, Eastern Europe and the Netherlands are  frequently ignored. The rest of the world doesn’t seem to exist for romantic fiction.

What strikes me interesting is that romance novels of yesteryear – historical and contemporary – were much more international. It wasn’t unusual to find a contemporary romance set in South Africa, a Medieval-era romance in Germany, or a 19th century historical romance somewhere in Russia. Many historical romances were set during the Gold Rush in the US; some in South America, and on the seas somewhere in the world.

Where did these go? Why aren’t readers interested in them now? Does it mean readers of yesteryear were more adventurous than we readers are nowadays? I’m thinking, yes and no. Paranormal romances, SF romances, futuristic romances and urban fantasy romance novels are quite popular. Aren’t these exotic? Why, if these are welcomed with open arms, aren’t contemporary or historical romances with exotic settings popular as well?

I used to believe long-time romance readers felt they overdosed on those exotic settings and so they opted for something familiar, but it’s been more than ten years. And there’s a new generation of romance readers, too.

Could it be that knowing too much makes it hard to hold the suspension of belief? If this is true, how could anyone enjoy reading English historical romance? 19th century England wasn’t pretty. The most exotic setting some seem to be willing to accept in historical romance novels nowadays is India. No one seems to care about the socio-political implications of using British characters as part of a romance sets in India although Meredith Duran’s The Duke of Shadows touches on those issues briefly.

No one blinked twice when an author made Australia a penal colony once again in a futuristic romance. No one said a thing about a contemporary romance in which the author completely ignored the existence of South Americans to focus on an American couple on a run somewhere in South America. If these readers didn’t care, why restricts the world in the romance genre to a selected few? If readers and authors could be selective with how a country or time was portrayed, why not for the rest of the world?

At least, if there were more choices, I could afford to ignore historical romances with Indian settings (because I don’t feel comfortable with the idea of romanticising the British Raj) and some readers would enjoy those. A bit of something for everyone, so to speak. And with epublishing becoming a commonplace, why not?

Surely it’s time to bring back exotic settings? If now is not the time, then when is the right time?

Related posts:

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I asked Bam if she would do a conversational review with me. Without a blink, she agreed. She even did an awesome summary:

Slither (2007) is a splatter-horror and dark comedy about a beautiful, hapless schoolteacher Starla Grant (Elizabeth Banks) and her husband, the small town’s wealthiest douchebag and the unfortunately named Grant Grant (Michael Rooker), who falls prey to the mind-altering alien slug that burrows itself into his chest after he pokes it with a stick while out for a moonlight stroll with the town slut, Brenda.

In the light of the morning, Starla feels guilty for being a bad wife and attempts to make it up to Grant by seducing him to the tune of "Every Woman in the World" by Air Supply, but Grant returns from his evening walk… changed. Suddenly, he’s a little more aggressive, ravishing Starla senseless. And then there’s his unyielding appetite meat, the bulk of which he buys from the local grocery store and the rest he takes from his neighbors and by that I mean their pets. He stocks his meat supply in the basement and puts a giant lock on the door, telling Starla not to open it because he is hiding her anniversary present in there.

I bet by now you’re wondering where the delicious Nathan Fillion comes in. Well, what’s a small town without an aw-shucks, salt-of-the-earth sheriff with a rakish grin and a secret, unrequited love for the beautiful schoolteacher? Fillion is charming as Bill Pardy, the aforementioned sheriff in a town with no crime or evil-doer to bust, except for the mayor who gets belligerently drunk and cusses at the townsfolk.

He spends his work hours sitting in a squad car with his trusty deputy waiting to catch speed demons. In fact, he is napping in his car with his hat over his face when the meteor carrying the alien slugs streaks across the sky and lands in the woods.

When Grant mutates into a giant squid and the townsfolk turn into zombies controlled by the slugs that have managed to shove themselves down their throats, Sheriff Pardy finds himself bemused and ill-equipped to deal with the madness.

Backed by the gun-toting rednecks he had deputized to help him fight the monsters and the drunken mayor who invites himself to the hunting party, Bill Pardy struggles to save the town… and Starla!

Jaili: When Slither was released I thought it was just a B-movie, so I ignored it. Last year a friend lent me Slither DVD and ordered me to watch it. At this point I should admit I wasn’t a fan of Fillion. I loved Firefly. I even loved Serenity, but that is because it features my all-time favourite actors, Chiwetel Ejiofor.

With that in mind, I didn’t have high expectations for Slither. In fact I settled in for a spot of ‘Aw, look! How far Nathan Fillon has fallen!” but ended up loving it. And you know, it’s a Harlequin romance. Or rather, a Harlequin Romance’s Night Out to Dorky Horrorland. I didn’t expect that at all. Did you?

Bam: I have to say that I’ve always seen Fillion as a romantic lead, so I did expect the whole Harlequin small-town romance aspect of it. I think it would have been a wasted opportunity if director James Gunn didn’t exploit that angle, which he did.

Starla was married to Grant and she married him ’cause he was a successful business owner. Well, she was poor and she didn’t want to be poor anymore. It was implied that Grant “rescued” her. Sheriff Bill was in love with her and it was implied they had some kind of flirtation when they were younger, but Starla was more interested in “getting out”.

Jaili: Starla made a speech about sticking by Grant when he was a monster.

Bam: I think Starla felt guilty that she wasn’t being a better wife. She knew she didn’t love Grant but since she had “small-town values” she had to stick with him because that was what a good wife did.

Jaili: I didn’t pick up on that, actually. Because I remember they had a very affectionate relationship at the start.

Bam: Starla had a “little girl” crush on Grant at the beginning, impressed by his Cadillac and his big house.

Jaili: Ooh, good point. I remember Sheriff Bill did all these things trying to impress Starla, ranging from displays of bravado to getting the schoolgirl to tell Starla that Sheriff Bill saved her.

Bam: Yes, exactly! Well, it’s apparent that Sheriff Bill came from a nice family while Starla came from the wrong side of the tracks as implied by Kid-Starla sneaking into Kid-Bill’s room to tell him she’s running away to Hollywood to become a star

Jaili: Of course! Yeah Starla wanted him to be her bodyguard. And he called the police instead. (laughing)

Bam: And let’s not forget Grant had to work on the night of the Moose Dance, leaving Starla to go by herself and then Sheriff Bill Pardy asks her to dance.

Jaili: Here lie the stars above their heads…

Bam: Seriously, it’s a frickin’ Harlequin American Romance.

Jaili: Yeah, definitely. Tormented heroine, hero with a serious case of unrequited love, token schoolgirl, husband whom the heroine doesn’t really love, and the secret guilt she carries. Oh, and let’s not forget the town slut.

Bam: Oh, but she definitely gets hers! What do you think makes Starla a typical romance heroine?

Jaili: What you said as well as martyrdom, guilt, serious attempt to take marriage vows seriously, to the point where she doesn’t flinch that her husband turns into something she no longer recognises. She’s a former beauty pageant queen and a school teacher, to boot. What’s your favourite moment of the film?

Bam:

Trevor: That’s one match I’ll never get.

Margaret: [zipping Gina Kid's jacket up] Ain’t no mystery. Starla was raised in them shanties off St. Luke, dirt poor. All she ever wanted was to be a lady. Ol’ Grant Grant, he’s always been made of green.

Trevor: Gold digger, huh?

Bill Pardy: Oh, hell, Margaret! Starla’s mother left her, her daddy’s a drunk, she was 17 years old. Ol’ Grant pulls up in a big ol’ Cadillac, house on the hill, and college tuition? What would you do?

Margaret: [Lifting a handkerchief to Gina Kid's nose] Blow.

Bill Pardy: Hell, if he had a ‘gina, you’d'a married him, too.

Gina Kid: What’s a “‘gina”?

Bill Pardy: [after an awkward pause] It’s a country. You know, where “Ginese” people come from. Learn to eavesdrop better.

Jaili: Oh yeah, that had me laughing out loud. That’s what I didn’t expect from Slither: it’s funny! Did you expect that?

Bam: Well, I expected grossness definitely because James Gunn is a Troma alum… as for the funny parts, I knew Nathan Fillion has a bang-on comedic timing, so the zings were going to come fast and furious. What I didn’t expect, now that I think about it, was how much I was going to enjoy it.

As a fangirl, you go into these things to see your favorite actor or a movie by your favorite director and you’re thinking you’re probably going to enjoy it anyway because you’re a fan, but even if I weren’t, it’s just a genuinely funny, fun movie. I enjoyed it so much I would have enjoyed it even if I weren’t a fan.

Jaili: I only knew director James Gunn as a scriptwriter. He’s written Dawn of the Dead and Scooby Doo, so I didn’t have any good expectations, let alone expect it to be funny. Or romantic in a skewed way.

Bam: See, for me, I don’t know. Maybe I liked it so much because I really like Nathan Fillion. lol.

Jaili: Like I said, Fillion is nothing to me. I like the man, but not enough to be a fangirl like you.

Bam: Exactly! I think a fangirl would definitely view this movie differently, but I’ve never met anyone who didn’t fall down laughing while watching it.

Jaili: It was a friend’s vow to kill me if I didn’t watch Slither. Even though I’m not a fangirl, I really liked Fillion in this film. He came off a very likeable, witty bloke. A very dashing hero, too.

Bam: What I really appreciated was all the references to previous horror films. it was obvious that Gunn really respected the films he was paying an homage to. The name of the mayor is Jack McReady, which is a tribute to RJ McReady from John Carpenter’s The Thing.

Jaili: That’s one thing I liked about Slither; a lot of inside jokes and respectful references. What type of romance readers would enjoy watching this film? Aside Fillion fangirls?

Bam: I think as a romance reader you’d definitely enjoy it if you enjoy the unrequited love trope where the guy finally gets the girl.

Jaili: How would you rate the gruesome parts?

Bam: Well, let’s just say that James Gunn does not scrimp at all on the red stuff, since he’s a Troma alum after all. Troma, after all, is famous for The Toxic Avenger and other low-budget splatter films

Jaili: There is ‘this is meant to scare you’ and there is ‘this is meant to make you laugh’. Slither belongs to the latter.

Bam: Since you’re not a Fillion fangirl, what did you enjoy about it the most?

Jaili: Humour, no doubt. And believe it or not, Nathan Fillion. His performance, his charm and great sense of comic timing sucked me in.

Bam: I think what is very obvious in Slither is that everyone enjoyed making the film. You can tell when someone is just slumming it, but Slither is a labor of love

Jaili: That’s what made the film for me; the clear enjoyment of the cast in making this film.

Bam: And I have to say, it’s definitely made for genre fans

Jaili: But I think it would appeal to non-genre fans as well. They might not catch inside jokes, but I think they’ll still enjoy the ride. It’s so tongue-in-cheek that you cannot help but like it. What grade would you give Slither? It gets a B+ from me.

Bam: For a fangirl, A+++, but for a casual viewer, B. it’s a lot of fun, but it’s a “B-movie” after all. ha ha ha. It’s definitely a good cuddle-together-in-the-dark movie.

Related posts:

1. Friday Film Review: love jones (1997)
2. Friday Film Review: Down With Love (2001) & Strictly Ballroom (1992)
3. Friday Film Review: Ladyhawke

Dear Readers,

It hasn’t been a good week.

A DVD I bought from an online shop for this week’s review – a Cary Grant/Doris Day film – has a scratch, which rendered it unplayable. I went to a local DVD rental shop next day and rented a Marlene Dietrich/Gary Cooper film. I got home and found there was, unbelievably, a scratch on DVD. I took it back and the rental shop was closed. My mood simply nose-dived. This happened after work on Wednesday.

I was thinking of reviewing one of old favourites (Strictly Ballroom, 10 Things I Hate About You, Down With Love, David & Layla, and The Fifth Element) when Nikki lent me her DVD, Across the Universe (2007), which I hadn’t seen. She urged me to watch it because it’s one of most romantic films she had seen.

After the film ended, I tried to write a review but was having a serious mental block. This happened Thursday evening.

No problem, I thought while keeping growing panic at bay, because I can watch anything and whip up a review easily enough. I pulled out Down With Love and Strictly Ballroom. Although both were hilarious and wonderful to watch again, the mental block was still lodging in my skull. Words just couldn’t flow. I believe it was because my brain was in shock from seeing Across the Universe. I still don’t even know where to begin to write a review.

Right now, at 01:47AM (Friday 08 May) and still no review in sight, I hold Across the Universe director Julie Taymor, scriptwriting duo Dick Clement and Ian La Frenais; their new-found fan (and my potentially former best friend) Nikki and musician Bono’s dodgy mustache responsible.
For this week’s review, I offer two short reviews of films I watched at last minute. Meanwhile, please forgive me for allowing Across the Universe to mess with my now-rocking-slowly-in-a-tiny-corner mind.

Down With Love (2003)
Quotable:
Barabra Novak: "Down with love? Just eat some chocolate, forget the man, and take control of your own life."
Genre: Romantic comedy
Cast: Ewan McGregor, Renée Zellweger, Sarah Paulson, David Hyde Pierce

Synopsis: Barbara Novak (Renée Zellweger), the author of a best-selling non-fiction book, Down with Love, that advises women to focus on their careers and treat sex like a man would, having it whenever and wherever the urge strikes. Esteemed and egotistical magazine writer Catcher Block (Ewan McGregor), a notorious playboy and shamelessly chauvinist pig, isn’t convinced. He sets out to prove Barbara isn’t immune to love by pretending to be Zip Martin, a shy, old-fashioned astronaut. Will he succeed?

Pros: it’s a sweetly affectionate tribute to 1960s-era gender-war comedy films starring Doris Day and her rota of leading men including Cary Grant, Rock Hudson, James Garner and James Stewart. The production design was wonderful and so were the costumes. Ewan McGregor, even when at smarmiest, was thoroughly charming, possibly because he clearly was having fun with his roles as Zip and Catch. The classic split-screen technique used in telephone conversation scenes further enhanced the homage feeling which I loved. David Hyde Pierce did well as Catch’s neurotic but witty editor, and as did Sarah Paulson as world-weary Vikki Hillier.Tony Randall’s cameo was perfect given that he co-starred in several Day-Hudson movies. The film was wonderfully kitschy. My husband adores this film so much that he lists it one of top 20 "comfort films’, a confession not well known to his friends.

Cons: Some jokes and double entendres seemed too heavy-handed and too blatant, which didn’t seem to fit the 1960s framework. Down With Love was meant to be a satire and an affectionate tribute, but ended up as a weak parody. Zellweger"s ability to look exactly like a shaven and sun-burnt small animal was fine most times, but when she overacted by pouting, for example, the chipmunk imagery became vividly apparent.

Conclusion: Down With Love was geninuely fun and so crammed with fun inside jokes, but at times, tried too hard. I was still upset about the scratch on the much anticipated Grant/Day DVD and Across the Universe (a.k.a. the love child of Forrest Gump, Yellow Submarine and Willy Wonka), which makes it a possibility I’m taking it out on this film.

Grade: B-

Strictly Ballroom (1992)
Quotable:
Scott: "You’ve never had a partner. You’ve been dancing with a girl for two years. And now you come to me, who’s been dancing since I was six, and you wanna dance non-Federation, and convince the Pan Pacific judges, with three weeks to train?"
Fran: "Yeah."
Genre: Romantic comedy
Cast: Paul Mercurio, Tara Morice, Gia Carides, Bill Hunter, Pat Thomson

Synopsis: Scott Hastings (Paul Mercurio) was born to be a champion ballroom dancer, destined to win the Pan Pacific Championship, but he has a problem: he can’t help but want to dance his own steps. It shocks and upsets the community. Australian-born Spaniard Fran (Tara Morice)-’a mere dance beginner-’seizes a chance and asks if she could be his partner, making his dream come true. Will he take a chance on this clumsy Plain Jane?

Pros: A hysterical take on the small-scale Australian ballroom dance circuit and a lovely take on the "ugly duckling’ tale. Although it’s almost a fairy tale, I believed in gradual romantic developments of Scott and Fran’s stormy relationship. It has a wonderfully strong display of family roots in spite of squabbles and insanity. Loved the cover of Cyndi Lauper’s classic "80s song, Time After Time, sung by Tara Morice (who plays Fran) and Mark Williams.
Coincidentally, the film also featured a Doris Day song, Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps, which delighted me. Although the entire cast gave their best, my favourite characters were Scott’s highly wound stage mother Shirley (Pat Thomson), toupee-wearing devious Barry Fife (Bill Hunter) and Fran’s short-but-Alpha-as-hell father Rico (Antonio Vargas) who issued this fantastic line: “Paso Doble? You dance the Paso Doble? Show me! Show me your Paso Doble!”

Cons: Scott and Fran’s highly anticipated unconventional dance didn’t seem that unconventional. To my uneducated dancer’s eye, it seemed a typical Spanish dance. Occasionally Scott was slappable for being so gullible. (I’m still trying to decide if he wore eye liner.) Fran didn’t seem that memorable and was largely underused. If anything, she was a prop to Scott’s journey to be a better man. Although I believed in the romantic development of their relationship and its HEA, I wasn’t that convinced it would last, but I didn’t mind.

Conclusion: Strictly Ballroom was cheesy as hell, but so funny. I have seen this film thrice and it still made me laugh. It’s so Australian as well. In case you didn’t realise, I’m a huge fan of Australian cinema, television and fiction, thanks to these: Gallipoli, The Year My Voice Broke, Phar Lap, Picnic at the Hanging Rock and TV mini-series including Return to Eden, Return to Snowy River and The Thorn Birds). Frankly, I prefer Strictly Ballroom to the classic ’80s film, Dirty Dancing.
Grade: B+

Be good, be bad & be safe,
Jaili

Related posts:

1. Friday Film Review: love jones (1997)
2. Friday Film Review: Near Dark (1987)
3. FRIDAY FILM REVIEW: Harold and Maude (1971)

American reader blogger Katiebabs has just returned from England where she met with fellow reader blogger Ana, the British-based half of The Book Smugglersduo. Katiebabs is now blogging about her experiences along with some awesome photos. So far, KB’s Adventures in England!: *Part One* Deadly Ditches and The Greek Tycoon’s Mistress’s Baby Bump | *Part Two* The Book Hunt

In case you didn’t realise (well, I didn’t until today), Decadence of Bookthingo is running a series of Black Dagger Brotherhood Cheat Sheet to celebrate the release of J.R. Ward’s latest release, Lover Avenged. It’s a useful guide for anyone who’s a tad confused about Ward’s worldbuilding, mythology and lead characters. So far: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9. You could keep track on Twitter as well by using this hashtag – #rehv – in Twitter’s search engine or a Twitter program, e.g. TwitterDeck.

With a new film version of Emma and the monster film Pride and Predator on horizon, here is a round-up of encyclopedic blogs that keep track of all things Jane Austen including reviews of the well-hyped Pride and Prejudice and Zombies: Jane Austen Today | Austenprose | Jane Austen’s World. A note of interest: Jane Austen Today is running a feature on British actor Mark Strong, who appears as Mr. Knightly in the 1996 version of Emma.

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1. Weekly Tech Roundup
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3. REVIEW: Jane Austen Ruined My Life by Beth Pattillo

Dear Taylor Hackford,

Although I had heard of An Officer and a Gentleman (who hasn’t?) and seen many parodies of the legendary ending, I never got around to seeing it until I watched  Searching for Debra Winger (2002) last week.

The Rosanna Arquette directed documentary consisted of a series of interviews with a number of high-profile lead actresses about working in the entertainment/film industry and the pressures they had to face. The title was inspired by a time when actress Rosanna Arquette was shocked to learn that successful and Oscar-nominated actress Debra Winger decided to retire from acting in 1995 when she was only 40 years old.

Arquette ultimately decided to explore the question why so many successful lead actresses dropped out suddenly after reaching a certain age, and why fewer "meaty" roles were offered when they grew older. But I digress. Despite the uneven quality of the documentary, I enjoyed Arquette’s interviews with Jane Fonda, Martha Plimpton and Debra Winger. It was a brief discussion about An Officer and Gentleman that got me curious enough to overcome my dislike for Richard Gere to watch the film. (I’m sorry that your name and filmography weren’t enough.)

The film opens with Zack Mayo (Richard Gere) in a Seattle apartment, remembering his childhood days. Cue the flashbacks: eleven-year-old Zack (Tommy Petersen) arrived at Manila airport where Byron Mayo, his U.S. Navy sailor father (Robert Loggia), was waiting for him. While offering the condolences to Zack about his mother, Bryon made it clear to Zack he would be at sea for three weeks every month and that he hasn’t the time for "all this Daddy stuff". A further exchange between them made it clear that Zack held Byron partly responsible for his mother’s death. Bryon rejected this accusation; implied that the mother was at fault for her own death; and that Zack should simply grow up.  

Back to the present day, Zack wakes his aged father from a drunken slumber and makes a casual announcement he’s joined the Navy with an intention of becoming a jet pilot. His father doesn’t react well as he says, "Officers aren’t like you and me. They’re a different breed."

With determination and ambition behind him, Zack Mayo ignores his father’s warnings and travels to Port Rainier where the Officer Candidate School is located, which would be his home for thirteen weeks. On the first day, he meets Gunnery Sergeant Emil Foley (Louis Gossett, Jr), a tough and larger-than-life personality that has no qualms with bullying and shouting at his charges.

Quite quickly, it’s clear Zack is indifferent to Foley and Zack’s fellow classmates. He quietly earns the reputation of being a dishonest cynic-’selling a service to fellow school candidates for money-’while holding himself aloof from his classmates. He just wants to get through the training quickly and effectively, and alone. In spite of all this, happy-go-lucky classmate Sid Worley (David Keith) persistently makes friends with Zack.

Meanwhile local factory girls, Paula Pokrifki (Debra Winger) and her best friend Lynette Pomeroy (Lisa Blount), have big plans. They view Navy boys as their potential passports out of their drab working lives and would do what they can to snag a Navy husband. Once in a while, they dress up and visit the Officer Candidate School to meet with respectable wives of officers and attend social events.

At one such social event, Zack and Sid are introduced to Paula and Lynette. Both sets are paired up; Zack with Paula and Sid with Lynette. Zack is mildly amused to find Paula a quick-witted and headstrong woman. He chooses to play with her to pass time during the training course. Sid, however, falls for Lynette hard and fast.

Drill instructor Foley disapproves Zack’s indifference and aloofness, and his times with "local girls".   Under intense scrutiny from Foley and brutal drills, Zack is forced to face up to the truth about his reason for joining the Navy.   

Where will he go from there now? How would it affect his future, his deepening but still fragile relationship with Paula, and his friendship with Sid and others? And above of all, will he ever come to terms with his past? Will he graduate from the School with full honours?

All these years I thought An Officer and a Gentleman was a poor-boy-makes-good film with a dollop of romance, similar to Rocky and Top Gun, but I was wrong. It’s much more than that.

It’s a battle of wills, wits and beliefs. An everyday tale of an emotionally wounded young man who was convinced his driven ambitions and determination alone would get him to wherever he wanted to go. After experiencing a number of situations and confrontations, he consequently discovered no one can make it through alone. It’s a simple story, but it’s the oft-difficult progress of Zack’s emotional journey that made the film compelling to watch.

It wasn’t all about Zack. The story briefly touched the lives of people around him; the people who make Zack what he’ll become. Zack’s classmates: optimistic Sid Worley (David Keith), rigid Topper Daniels (David Caruso), preppy Emiliano Della Serra (Tony Plana), quiet giant Perryman (Harold Sylvester) and the only female classmate, Casey Seeger (Lisa Eilbacher) whose physical weaknesses constantly frustrated her. They slowly formed a sense of kinship as well as recognising their weaknesses and strengths while struggling through their thirteen-week training course.

Paula and Lynette who struggle with the knowledge that they may be like their families that spent their entire lives working in a world that Paula and Lynette hated. They were ambitious enough to do what they can to get out of it. This is where the film stumbled, I felt. At best they were portrayed as opportunists that don’t shy from using their bodies and other people to escape from a life of drudgery. It seems that the difference between Paula and Lynette lies with this question: how willing are they to stand by their men when the going gets tough? The most willing is the Good Woman and the least willing is the Bad Woman. Guess who won that Good Woman award? And what was her reward? We find out from watching the ending.

It bothered me that these women didn’t seem to think of doing it for themselves. Go to a bloody college, get a job outside the town, do whatever you can to escape without relying on men. If you want to shag a Navy boy, do it because you want to, not because it could snag you a husband. Yet the film made it perfectly normal while subtly condemning these characters, even Paula. Then again, it was pointed out to me that this was made during early 1980s. A different era, another world. Um, I’m not that convinced. Regardless, that was my only serious issue with the film.

Paula, to be fair, didn’t always take the crap from Zack when he had one of his usual arsehole moments, though. That partly redeemed her. I also liked her scenes with her concerned mother.

The relationship dynamic between Lynette and Sid was more fascinating than the one between Zack and Paula. Zack’s reaction-’and Lynette’s-’to Sid’s fate was gut-ripping as well. My friend actually cheered when Zack called Lynette names. But I felt sorry for Lynette because while I didn’t approve what she did, I thought I understood why she was driven to do it. In her own way, she was honest in her reaction to Sid’s decision.   My friend and I remain at odds over the demonization of Lynette  which is a mark of a good film.

I loved Louis Gossett, Jr. Loved, loved the man, so it was great to see him in this film. He unsurprisingly didn’t disappoint me with his performance, even though what came out of his mouth shocked me now and then. I’m not sure why it shocked me. I have seen films with similar characters including Full Metal Jacket. I think it was the way he said these things that made it so startling, attention-grabbing and effective.

I had no idea he won an Academy Award for Best Actor in a Supporting Role. (I already knew about the Best Original Song award for Up Where We Belong.) David Keith’s performance surprised and delighted me. And leading man Richard Gere did well as Zack, (said I, begrudgingly). I always saw him a mediocre actor, but this role suited him very well because he seemed surprisingly naturalistic. Not so obnoxiously smug nor wooden. I wonder if it was because his character Zack can be such an arsehole that he fitted in well? Perhaps it was your direction that helped him to be a bit more likeable. I think it’s the latter.

The legendary ending was cheesy as hell, but despite my issue with its message, it worked, oddly enough. Worked well enough to make me sniffle. Just a bit.

In short, An Officer and a Gentleman is a gritty yet optimistic tale that will leave viewers with a sense of satisfaction and optimism. It gets B for that.

Be good, be bad & be safe,

Jaili
An Officer and a Gentleman trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l1Ehz_cAMGc

Related posts:

1. Friday Film Review: Ladyhawke
2. Friday Film Review: Near Dark (1987)
3. Friday Film Review: love jones (1997)

Grade: A-

Genre: romantic period drama (UK/USA)

Dear William Nicholson,

I was challenged to find and review a period romantic film that isn’t an adaptation. I was all for it until I discovered finding the task wasn’t as easy as I thought.

All I could find were the adaptations of works by Jane Austen, the Bronte sisters, Margaret Mitchell (Gone With the Wind), Baroness Orczy (The Scarlet Pimpernel), Barbara Cartland, Oscar Wilde, Frank Yerby (The Foxes of Harrow and The Golden Hawk), Pierre Choderlos de Laclos (Les Liaisons Dangereuses), E.M. Forster (Maurice, A Room With a View), Anya Seton (Dragonwyck) and many others. I had hoped Captain Blood, The Horseman on the Roof and River Lady wouldn’t be adaptations, but they are. Damn you, Rafael Sabatini, Jean Giono and Frank Waters.

The originals I did find-’such as The Abduction Club, Vidocq, Tugboat Princess, Lady Jane, and Brotherhood of the Wolf-’can’t be easily found on DVD world-wide. O world, why art thou taking the mick?

I was about to fall on my knees in defeat when I remembered one of my role models Sandra Goldbacher (an awesome BBC history researcher and documentary maker) wrote and directed a film, The Governess (1998). I tried to get a copy from the dept when they suggested your film, Firelight, which was released that year and has a similar storyline. And it’s widely available on DVD. Yay! Let’s do a Snoopy dance, everyone!

The film opens in the year of 1838 with Swiss woman Elisabeth Laurier (Sophie Marceau) attending a formal interview with a middle-aged woman in an armchair and a mysterious gentleman who’s hiding behind a decorative screen. Both are there to ask Elisabeth questions, which slowly reveal the interview is conducted to assess Elisabeth as a potential baby maker.

Elisabeth is desperate enough to do this interview to help her debt-ridden father. The mysterious gentleman is a British aristocrat in need of an heir. And he’s a married man whose wife is ill. He has a valid reason to acquire an heir as soon as possible, but at this stage, we don’t know that reason.

The mysterious man tries to pretend he’s asking on the behalf of another gentleman, but Elisabeth’s strong will and determination force him to discard the pretence in order to answer her questions. With their names still withheld, Elisabeth and he agree they will have sexual intercourse at a hotel on the Normandy coast for three nights.

Their first encounter on the first night is soaked with stiff upper-lip civility. Elisabeth is relieved to discover this man is a reserved, quiet man with perfect manners and an anxiety not to distress her so much. The second night melts away the awkward invisible wall between them. The third night, sex becomes a lovemaking session, which surprises and secretly delights both. But alas, when the morning comes, they must part. Nine months later, Elisabeth gives birth to a newborn, which is immediately taken from her. But her father’s debts are finally cleared.

Six years later, Elisabeth is hired by Constance as a governess to Constance’s niece who lives with an English aristocratic in the Sussex countryside.

Upon her arrival, Elisabeth quickly discovers that the niece, Louisa (Dominique Belcourt), is an antagonistic spoiled brat who’s mistreated her previous governesses enough to make them quit in protest. She could see she’s in for a tough time when Louisa openly scorns her.

As Elisabeth quietly battles with Louisa’s difficult behaviour and getting know to Louisa’s home consisting Louisa’s clearly ill mother, Louisa’s aunt Constance who has the house under her control, and the house servants that view her as a grey area between them and the aristocratic family, she slowly settles in.

When Louisa’s father, Charles Godwin (Stephen Dillane), returns from a long trip, it’s a shock for him and Elisabeth to see each other because Charles is no other than the mysterious man who spent three nights with her many years before. This means the difficult child Louisa is actually Elisabeth and Charles’s daughter.

Elisabeth is also disoriented to see Charles’s father, Lord Clare (Joss Ackland), openly mocking his son Charles’s embarrassing venture as a sheep farmer, even though it’s his irresponsibility that forces his dutiful son to take up the sheep-farming business to save their ancestral home from an all-too-real potential financial ruin. And that Charles’s American farmer friend, John Taylor (Kevin Anderson), is slowly falling in love with Elisabeth with all intentions of making her his wife.

Above of all, Elisabeth and Charles are discomforted by a realisation that the quiet bond between them, borne from those three nights many years before, is still very much alive.

It was tough to summarise Firelight as a spoiler-free synopsis because Firelight relies heavily on the breath-taking cinematography, subtle dialogue and the cast’s sometimes-understated solid performances. There are also many subtleties and nuances in these that are best left to be discovered by viewers at their own pace.

At this point, I should admit I have never liked having a governess as the heroine, in fiction and films. Two reasons: I deeply disliked Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre and after working on a documentary series about Victorian-era governesses, the reality a typical governess had to face is all too real for me to hold the suspension of belief.

Many real-life governesses tended to have difficult and unhappy lives. They didn’t fit in with the servants because they were socially above their station, and they didn’t fit in with the family because they were below their station. This means they led lonely lives, which made their lives revolved around their wards. When wards grew up, these governesses were either discarded aside to fend for themselves-’or left alone as spinsters living off tiny lifetime allowances made by their devoted adult wards. More than not, many governesses were mistreated by their "adopted’ families, and many governesses mistreated their wards without fearing the consequences because their employers left so much trust in their hands. We have heard the stories of abuse, humiliation, rape, criminal neglect and other heart-breaking experiences. It’s a strange and complex world where a governess can rule their wards with an iron fist and yet can be a victim of their employers’ sometimes painfully insensitive whims.

All this is the reason why I actively avoid stories that feature governesses. The reality isn’t pretty at all and I didn’t believe anyone could soften that reality. You’ve proven me wrong with Firelight. I believe it’s because you lightly acknowledged that reality-’especially with the scenes of Elisabeth’s interactions with both the servants and the family as well her social isolation–without compromising the love story you wanted to realise.

I still can’t believe you’ve succeeded where no historical romance authors so far have succeeded. I’m not sure what to make of this, let alone acknowledging I may have been sexist for really believing that no man could make it work.

You did well with the casting, too. Sophie Marceau’s presence and looks have made Firelight one of best looking period dramas in years. Her acting ability is usually a hit-and-miss affair, but she did well with Firelight. She seemed real as Elisabeth and a woman of a time when life wasn’t easy. To be honest, I fell in love with her through Firelight. She looked so breath-taking. Is that shallow of me?

Stephen Dillane’s take as an angst-filled man, trapped by his strong sense of responsibility and duty, was solid as well. His character wasn’t easy-going or fun-loving. In fact he seemed a dull man, and he was. And yet whenever he was with Elisabeth, he–subtly but clearly–came alive. I must credit you and Dillane for this quiet but amazing performance. Although not traditionally handsome, he had the charm and presence; just enough to make my eyelashes flutter like crazy at him whenever I see him since the film.

I felt a lot for Godwin’s wife who seemed to suffer the worst of luck. I admit that with historical romance novels, I tend to feel sorry for heroes’ wives, usually because romance authors tend to demonise them to justify heroes falling in love with other women, namely the heroines. I always felt this was unfair and cowardly of authors to do this. But in this case, you didn’t demonise Mrs. Godwin, which made it somewhat easier for me to sympathise with Elisabeth and Charles’s dilemma.

Louisa, the product of Elisabeth and Charles’s three-night encounter, was truly a visitor from Hell. Much kudos to young actress Dominique Belcourt for making her character so unsympathetic and yet, a lonely and vulnerable child. Oh yes, many times I wanted to strangle her, but bit by bit, her performance won me over. I must stop writing further about the cast. In short, all these actors did well in Firelight. This must be because of your direction.

However, despite my enjoyment of Firelight, there is something that- I don’t know if it’s me, but more than once, I felt the story was hollow and to be honest, I don’t understand why. It had it all – the sublime cinematography, the solid performances, the rich side of storytelling, the almost fairy-tale feel, these quiet erotic moments, all these wonderful details of that bygone era and the best of all, the HEA.

And yet it still left me slightly cold. I just wasn’t that emotionally involved with the story.

Firelight pressed all the right buttons in me; I sympathized, I cheered, I awwed, I almost wept, and everything you might want from me, but although I still can recall the wonderful imagery of the film, I forget the story and its characters as soon as I shut down the DVD.

I’m thinking the reality of a typical governess’s life may have put a glass pane between me and your story, but I do recognize its strengths, which means I can push the original grade B to grade A-. I do think it deserves grade A- because considering other period dramas that aren’t adaptations, it’s unexpectedly elegant and romantic.

In short, it’s a must-see for romance readers enjoyed stories by Judith Ivory, Mary Balogh and similar historical romance authors.

Be good, be bad and be safe,

Jaili

Firelight trailer: not available. However, if you want to see what the film is like, there is a fan-made video http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CeK3s7u1NNk Beware: it has a couple of major spoilers.

Related posts:

1. Friday Film Review: Near Dark (1987)
2. Friday Film Review: Ladyhawke
3. Friday Film Review: love jones (1997)

Genre: Vampire (US)

Dear Kathryn Bigelow,

Not long ago, friends and I had a discussion about romantic vampire films including two current DVD releases, Twilight and Let the Right One In. I passed around my list of the most enjoyable romantic vampire films: Nosferatu the Vampyre (1979), Let the Right One In (2008), Vampyr (1932), Love at First Bite (1979) and your film, Near Dark.

The mention of this film-and whether it could be classified as a romantic vampire film-sparked a debate among us, and it’s still raging. I’m throwing this one out here to see which side the romance readers would take.

As the story goes: our nice-guy hero Caleb Colton, a mid-western farm boy on a night out, spots and romances an attractive, coy and maddeningly mysterious blonde. He says, “I sure haven’t met any girls like you.” Mae replies, “No, you sure haven’t.”

After a drive under the starlit night sky, Caleb moves in for a sensual kiss from Mae, and receives a rather vampy bite instead. The dawn is approaching, Mae runs off leaving Caleb disoriented and confused. That’s when strange things begin.

He quickly learns Mae is meant to kill him with that vampy bite, but couldn’t go through with it. Thanks to her, instead of being truly dead, he’s part of the undead.

Mae’s gang isn’t happy, either. Jesse Hooker, a former Confederate-era war soldier and the quiet leader of his family that consists his beloved woman Diamondback, who was once a Wild West whore, and their “children”: Severen, a former Southern gentleman with a psychotic streak and Homer, a child with an even more psychotic streak. And there’s Mae, a seemingly sweet and innocuous blonde waif.

They are a family of vampires that spend decades roaming across the country in stolen vehicles, living off victims at night and sleeping in sealed motel rooms by day. Being a family is essential to their survival and they aren’t prepared to let a stranger like Caleb in. Before the gang could move in to kill Caleb, Mae protects him by saying she’ll be responsible for him. Sensing her loneliness, Jesse decides to let her have Caleb as her companion.

Meanwhile, Caleb’s widowed father, convinced that Caleb has been abducted, sets out to find him, with his young daughter Sarah in tow.

Caleb eventually loses his battle against the intensifying blood hunger and his emotional tie to his old way of life, which helps him to adapt to his new life and new family. But then one night, his real family accidentally meets his new family. Which side will he take? And what about Mae whom he’s truly fallen in love with?

When I named Near Dark as one of most enjoyable romantic vampire films, a friend said, “Near Dark? Near Dark? It’s a hybrid of horror, action, and western. It’s not romantic. None whatsoever.”

I’m sure you agree with me here, Ms. Bigelow; the main theme of Near Dark is love. Not just between our hero Caleb and his girl Mae, but also between father and son, between two villains, between a centuries-old boy vampire and a young human girl, and between the sun-baked lands of the American West and the dark romance of the European vampire lore.

Near Dark didn’t get much attention when it was theatrically released because it was the year the much hyped teen vampire film, The Lost Boys, released. The difference between Near Dark and The Lost Boys is their representations of vampirism.

Vampirism in The Lost Boys is viewed as something glamorous and a dangerous thrill ride. David the vampire gang leader (Kiefer Sutherland) from The Lost Boys is the kind our parents would warn us to stay away from, but we still won’t resist going after him and his pretty-boy vampy friends. When Michael became one of them, we could imagine him becoming like David, but only the good kind.

Near Dark, on the other hand, represents vampirism as a dirty disease that can turn you into a serial killer. None of us could spend five minutes with Severen (Bill Paxton) without wondering if we’d live or die. When Caleb became one of them, we could imagine him becoming like Severen, but could he still retain his good-guy traits? Unlikely.

And yet, in spite of the dark nature of vampirism and grittiness in Near Dark, the romance between Caleb and Mae was much more romantic and poignant than the one between Michael and Star in The Lost Boys. As I explained to friends, we sensed Caleb and Mae’s growing desperation, protectiveness and deepening feelings for each other. We didn’t get that sense from Michael and Star in The Lost Boys.

Not only that, we had some glimpses of the feelings between Jesse and Diamondback. At a glance they seemed to be a cold, ruthless couple without regard for life, but as the film progressed, we were able to see their deep feelings for their "family" and towards each other.

And there is Caleb’s father whose love and fierce protectiveness of his family that almost outweighed those of Jesse, the father of Caleb’s dark side. We don’t see this with The Lost Boys, even with that final scene of David and his "father".

There were other subtle relationship developments elsewhere, too. Homer, a psychotic boy vampire, had unexpectedly and clumsily experienced love for the first time when he met Caleb’s younger sister, Sarah. Although he obviously had plans to take her life, it eventually became clear he’d changed his mind and wanted her to be his companion. When she broke away, his reaction was rather heartbreaking. Friends thought I imagined it, which I can understand as you didn’t focus much on clarifying this unexpected turn. I felt you did try by showing the depth of Homer’s attachment to Sarah when she broke away, but it still wasn’t enough because every time I mentioned the Homer and Sarah sub-plot, I was laughed out of the room. One even said I read too many romantic novels. Feh.

Near Dark does have a rather gory long scene that takes place in an isolated bar and a couple of eye-opening scenes of how they survive, which understandably categorises the film as Horror. It’s not for anyone who can’t stand the sight of blood and violence. However, although it’s categorised as Horror Film, it’s not fast-paced nor scary. The pace and the build-up are almost leisurely. Almost character-driven, even. Actually, it’s quite hard to categorise the film, genre-wise. It’s part-Western, part-Romance, part-Action, part-Horror and part-tribute.

Near Dark might be genre defying, but I see it as a gritty romantic film that happens to have a contemporary western setting with vampirism chucked in. I’m sure a lot of romance readers would disagree with me on this. I’m willing to hear them out. Until then, Near Dark beats The Lost Boys.

I must say, how the issue of Caleb’s vampirism was resolved is a shocking cop-out. That’s one thing I didn’t like about Near Dark. Frankly, it sucks. So sucky that it could easily make a decent living as a vacuum cleaner. Hence grade B for Near Dark.

Be good, be bad & be safe,

Jaili

Near Dark trailer http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j5K-wosw0i4

Related posts:

1. Friday Film Review: Ladyhawke
2. Friday Film Review: love jones (1997)
3. FRIDAY FILM REVIEW: Harold and Maude (1971)

Film revew: Ladyhawke (1985) Grade:B Genre: Historical romantic fantasy (US)

Dear Richard Donner:

I really enjoyed your 1980 film Inside Moves, a romantic black comedy about a young man who, after a failed attempted suicide, acquires a permanent disability that takes him into an underworld of people with disabilities and a dark sense of humour.

In spite of that, I’d consistently avoided Ladyhawke because its notorious rape scene. Yet Ladyhawke keeps cropping up on romance readers’ lists of favourite romantic films and it puzzled me. I just couldn’t get it. I thought perhaps it was the same readers that like reading old skool historical romance novels featuring rapist heroes. However, I recently learnt from a conversation with a friend that Ladyhawke doesn’t feature the rape scene at all.

I was shocked. I remember seeing a such scene during a TV review. After investigating, it seems I had mistaken Ladyhawke for Flesh+Blood. Both films were released in 1985 and set in medieval-era Europe. Both feature Rutger Hauer as the leading character, and both feature blonde heroines (Jennifer Jason Leigh and Michelle Pfieffer) as romantic interests to Rutger Hauer’s characters. I learnt that apart from these similarities, Ladyhawke  and  Flesh+Blood are completely different. Oops.

Petty thief Phillipe “The Mouse” Gaston, is imprisoned in the notorious dungeons of Aquila and sets to be hanged for his petty crimes, but he manages to escape through Aquila’s sewer system. He takes off, well away from the city. The Bishop of Aquila isn’t pleased. He could control the city and its surroundings with ease because he’s taking advantage of the fact people are aware that no prisoner has ever left the dungeons of Aquila alive. He’s concerned that if these people find out “the Mouse” has successfully made his escape, it could cause an uprising among commoners against the Bishop, causing him to lose everything. He couldn’t allow this possibility to happen so he sends Captain Marquet to track down and execute Phillipe.

Captain Marquet and his men successfully find Phillipe in a village traven and set to execute him, but his life is saved by a mysterious blond in black whose name, we quickly discover, is Captain Etienne Navarre.

After a dashing fight with Marquet and his men, Navarre takes Phillipe with him into the woods with a hawk following closely behind. Phillipe is initially grateful, but then becomes suspicious. He guesses Navarre may have an agenda for saving his life. His suspicion is proven right when Navarre informs him that he plans to use Phillipe to get inside the impassable castle and kill the evil Bishop of Aquila.

Meanwhile, there’s something mysterious about the man and his hawk. And this beautiful woman who seems to come out of nowhere at night. Only at night. And around that time, there is a massive black wolf prowling around. Indeed, there’s something dodgy going on. Phillipe eventually learns Naverre’s tragic secret and reason for wanting to go after the Bishop: he and his beloved are cursed.

The hawk is actually Isabeau d’Anjou, the mysterious lady who only appears in human form at night. Navarre himself appears as a wolf by night and in human form by day. In three days’ time, there will be a solar eclipse that may enable Isabeau and Navarre to appear in human form at same time. Only then, they could kill the Bishop to break the spell that keeps them apart. Could they pull it off with Phillipe’s help? Even it means the self-confessed coward Phillipe would have to return to the hated castle, Aquila?

My conclusion? A very highly enjoyable film that could be easily seen as a comfort film. The kind that would make anyone take it out to watch on a rainy day.

However, it has three things that put Ladyhawke firmly in the B league. 1) Matthew Broderick as Phillipe “the Mouse” Gaston. He was at times a fun, witty sidekick, but God, so slappable. Particularly whenever he smirked at his own cleverness. I couldn’t tell if it was part of his character or it was just Broderick trying to revive his best known role, Ferris Bueller. I thought it was the latter, but I found out Ferris Bueller’s Day Out was made three years after Ladyhawke. Must be just Broderick, then.

2) the soundtrack! I’m sorry, but I jut don’t think the disco music is ideal for any Medieval-setting fantasy romance. This is what keeps Ladyhawke from entering the A league.

3) I couldn’t help noticing plot holes and a couple of unexplained details. I can’t detail these because they are spoilers. In short, some seemingly important details were forgotten later in the story, and some details just simply didn’t fit. One could argue it’s only a fantasy story, which is true, but I felt these were easily preventable. Knowing this frustrates me a lot.

Apart from these three issues, Ladyhawke is a truly lovely film. I didn’t mind the campy acting from some of your actors including Rutger Hauer, John Wood and Leo McKern. I didn’t even mind Michelle Pfieffer’s sleepwalking-through-a-performance offering. For a strange reason, it’s what makes Ladyhawke so fun.

The best thing about Ladyhawke is its beautiful cinematography and locations that lend the fairy-tale feel to the story. I enjoyed many dramatic moments as well as some action scenes. It was very exciting and fun. It’s also a romantic film that would please any romance reader. It obviously did since Ladyhawke was mentioned every time there was a discussion among romance readers about romantic films.

I suspect I’ll become one of those readers because I’m already in mood to watch it again. That’s once I get used to Ladyhawke‘s eccentric soundtrack, of course.

Be good, be bad & be safe,

Jaili   

Ladyhawke trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8NW_tsc_PbU

Related posts:

1. Friday Film Review: love jones (1997)
2. FRIDAY FILM REVIEW: Harold and Maude (1971)
3. REVIEW: The Book, the Film, The T-Shirt by Matt Beaumont

As Gizmodo reports:

"Basically the story is this: the Author’s Guild raised issue with the Kindle 2′s new robotic text-to-speech feature, which can read any Kindle book aloud in a synthesized voice-’naturally, a feature that would be an absolute delight for the vision impaired. The Author’s Guild, however, saw things differently, stating that eBooks are not sold with “performance” rights and that the Kindle’s read-aloud feature would cut into the sales of audio books. And last month, Amazon caved to the Guild, giving individual publishers the ability to disable the text-to-speech reader for specific books."

I have an issue with the Guild for classifying the Kindle 2’s text-to-speech feature as "performance". There’s a world’s difference between an audio book and a text-to-speech feature of an ebook. The key difference is there’s no voice actor in the text-to-speech feature. It’s deprived of emotions, accents and other nuances. It’s a flat, unemotional robotic voice. It doesn’t give a performance of any kind. It’s a very basic function. Just like having a vacuum cleaner that does what it can do, instead of a floor cleaner who pays close attention to details and the quality of work.

It’s some responses to the article that I have a serious issue with, such as these:

Ebone: "Sometimes there just no pleasing people. You can get unabridged audiobook versions of just about every book on the market. Does EVERY product have to tailor itself to the needs of every special interest group? Maybe some of the protesters would like to be 747 pilots. Is Boeing supposed to develop a special 747 that the blind can fly too?"

Hello Mister Wishbone: "I’m all for blind people rights, but isn’t it a bit ridiculous to protest the lack of features on a commercial product? Shouldn’t it be up to Amazon or the authors to decide if they care about the blind people market? It’s like yelling at Apple because iPods do not have braille buttons. At some point, it just doesn’t make sense."

Morgan Breden: "I honestly don’t see how they have the right to complain. The books are available in audio format already, so why don’t they just buy those instead of an ebook? It’s not like the ebook has any other functionality to a blind person.

Call me a jackass, but it just sounds like another case of “I’m disabled so I should get free shit that everyone else has to pay for”. Last time I checked, in America, everyone was supposed to be equal."

This kind of attitude completely pisses me off.

Equal? You want to talk about equal? It’s an unequal world for people with disabilities. Always has been and still is now. The rights of people with disabilities are part of the civil rights and yet, people with disabilities are still second-class citizens. The quality of their lives is absolutely crap. What makes it more insulting, they sometimes have to pay for access to whatever is easily available – and free – to everyone else.

I don’t know where this person gets the idea that all things are "free" for blind people. I suspect this person and I have different ideas of what defines "free".

We all were born into a world that doesn’t cater to our special needs. If he could see or hear, it’s always free. If he couldn’t, it’s certainly not free, and rarely available. It’s up to the society to adapt to all needs, but due to various people’s ideas and beliefs, the society refuses to adapt. It’s either "shut up and put up with whatever we feel like offering" or "pay up and shut up" with this strong view that making the society fully accessible to all citizen is too expensive and time-wasting.

In my ideal world, every YouTube video would have a function that could enable subtitles for deaf users and audio descriptions for blind users. Every ebook device would have a text-to-voice function for blind readers without further charges. Every cinema in every town would have a daily accessible offering of all current releases for deaf and blind viewers. Every web site would be well designed and fully accessible. Every video would have removable subtitles. Every image with a description tag for an audio reader to latch on. Every online shop would be fully accessible for its disabled customers. No web site would dare to inflict its autoplay music on its visitors (because screen readers for blind users tend to malfunction, trying to read the autoplay device, which forces blind users avoiding certain web sites because of this kind of thing).

Until then, people with disabilities have to rely on whatever is available. If they truly want it, they have to go out of their way to get it and they oft have to pay for it.

In blind readers’ case, a typical price for an audio book is approximately  £10 while a paperback is around  £3.99. If there is an out-of-print book they would like to read, they oft can’t buy it because the audio book version simply isn’t available.

Get a professional reader? Tell me, when you stumble across a positive review of a foreign novel or film that hasn’t yet been translated to English, do you dig in your pocket to hire a translator to translate the foreign novel or film? If not, why should blind people hire professional readers to read books that aren’t accessible to them? Especially if it’s accessible to everyone but them?

There are libraries, of course, but some branches are struggling with budget cut-backs, resulting with limited offerings for its disabled patrons. It’s an insult that books for people with disabilities should be seen as a luxury. It’s certainly a luxury for people who don’t have sight problems, but it’s a necessity for blind people.

Equal? Bull.

At leas with the Kindle 2 and other ebook readers that have text-to-speech function, blind readers can now be equal to other people as well as feeling independent. You know, feeling as if they are finally ordinary customers.

They buy ebooks they probably won’t read, but at least through the text-to-speech function, they can experience instant gratification that many others enjoy. Sure, it doesn’t offer what audio books can offer, but at least the option is there. It should be every reader’s right to choose. A typical reader can choose to buy a hardback, a paperback, an ebook, or an audiobook. A blind reader doesn’t have these choices, but they could at least choose between an audio book and a basic text-to-speech function.

Do you know how many academic text books have the audio version? Very few. Do you have any idea how much blind college students have to pay just to gain access to many text books required for their courses? Of course there are discounts, but it still takes away their independence. They can’t sit in their room and study books whenever they like. Their lives revolve around their professional readers’ schedules that are restricted to week days and between nine to five.

How about blind readers who simply want to have a right to the privacy of what they read? Such as a guide book to sex, a book on divorce, or just plainly dirty books? The audio version isn’t always available for these. If there was, do you really think blind patrons enjoy going to a library or bookshop where they have to ask for assistance to locate and purchase the audio version of this kind of books? Some authorised audio book sellers online don’t sell these because you know, blind people are supposed to be asexual. If ordinary people can buy them off the internet in private, why can’t blind people?

And some blind readers just want to sit back and enjoy a story any time they want. They don’t want to go out there and track down an audio book that may or may not be available. Some audio books become available months after a hardback or paperback is released. They don’t want the hassle.

They simply want to be in a situation where late at night, they think, "Yeah, I’m in mood for a romantic suspense novel," and purchase an ebook through their ebook device on spot, and then kick back with the text-to-speech reader reading the story out through the night.

To the person who said "I’m all for blind people rights, but isn’t it a bit ridiculous to protest the lack of features on a commercial product?"

Did you hear that repetitive sound? That was my head hitting a wall.

What, are you saying that blind people can’t be recognised as customers? You know, people who have the money to spend? Companies that don’t recognize people with disabilities as potential customers are a real bunch of short-sighted idiots.

It’s just so wrong of the Author’s Guild to control what blind people can buy. A text-to-speech reader is not even a performer, for goodness sake.

Related posts:

1. Federation of the Blind Pushes Back Against Authors Guild
2. Why Amazon Was Wrong to Back Down from Authors’ Guild
3. Authors Guild Vies for Worst Publicity of 2009 (and other news)

Dear Theodore Witcher,

A few days ago, someone suggested I should review Bridget Jones’s Diary. I searched for it in my DVD library and found your film love jones instead.

love jones – which you’ve also scripted – is a simple and predictable romantic comedy and yet, not as straightforward as other romantic comedies.

At a jazz/poetry club in Chicago, aspiring novelist Darius Lovehall (Larenz Tate) is all set to give a poetry reading when he meets Nina Mosley (Nia Long), a photographer assistant who has enough talent to rise up high.

Their brief exchange at the bar intrigues Darius enough to change the title of his poem: “A Blues for Nina” on spot.
We slowly discover the poem is quite sexually charged. Nina doesn’t know what to make of it, but begrudgingly acknowledges an attraction between them.

After a chance encounter with Nina at a record shop, Darius talks Sheila, his close friend who works at the record shop as an assistant, into giving him Nina’s address taken from a cheque that Nina used to purchase a CD. When he shows up at her place, she unsurprisingly is suspicious.

Here, we expect to see the routine of a typical romantic comedy: a montage of two people falling in love and dealing with the slapsticky chaos-’possibly caused by their friends or a misunderstanding-’that might push them apart and bring them closer, but it doesn’t happen.

Nina has baggage: she’s recovering from an ended relationship and trying to decide whether she’s still in love with her ex. As for Darius, his friends are surprised to see him falling for Nina so hard, and so fast, which makes him defensive and trying to play cool. Both Nina and Darius separately tell their friends it isn’t serious. They are only kicking it. But are they, really?

As they struggle with communication problems and honesty while sorting out their feelings, their close friends chime in with their opinions of what defines romance, sex, relationships, and love. And when it’s the right time to get serious.

I don’t know where to start, or what to say. At best, love jones is a patchwork of gems, false notes, strengths, weaknesses, shallow moments and wonderful insights. And a lot of ups and downs. It is a romantic comedy, but at same time, it isn’t. It’s not quite a typical drama, either. I would describe it as a slice of life of twentysomethings with a network of friends. In other words: it’s a lad/chick lit novel on screen.

Regardless of how I feel about the sum of your script, the dialogue is what makes your story work. There is always a line, every five or ten minutes, that has me giving a smile of recognition. At times, it got me laughing out loud. Occasionally, quietly choking up with an emotion. Such as these:

Sheila: You coming through to my party?
Darius: No. I can’t mess with your parties. Y’all don’t serve food.
Sheila: Aren’t you something?
Darius: Carrots? I need some food that had parents, man.
—
Wood: I don’t need poetry to get women.
Sheila: No. You need a personality to get women.
Savon: Try a breath mint and a Visa.
—
Savon: You guys are always hoppin’ and fallin’ in love. Love ain’t what it is. It’s easy to fall in love, but will someone, please, tell me how to stay there?
—
Nina: It’s like-his dick talked to me.
Josie: –.what did it say?

In spite of the witty dialogue, sneaky innuendoes, some solid performances, the familiarity of some situations and the unpredictability of the predictable, it has flaws.
Characters I liked most are Savon (Isaish Washington) and, surprisingly, Darius.
I was surprised because I didn’t take to his personality well at the beginning. I found him too pushy, cocky, and a bit of smooth talker. At times it seemed his mind was tied to sex because his poetry, dialogue and lines of thinking were to do with sex. But then again, that’s what the story is partly about. I won’t go further with this because I think if I did, it’ll spoil the story. It took a little under an hour before I finally warmed up to Darius. And there were his moustache and goatee, which made him a left-over of the 1970s. Shallow of me, I know, but I found it distracting.
Nia Long does well as Nina, too. I didn’t ever bond with Nina like I eventually did with Darius, though. I think perhaps because she kept sending mixed messages as well as having double standards. Perhaps that was your point because to be fair, Darius did the same to Nina, hence all these ups and downs of their new relationship.
Savon is another favourite character because he’s the one who’s married in Darius’s circle of close friends. This sets him slightly apart from his friends and he knows it. You gave him a sub-plot that others didn’t have: a struggle of his own. He has to deal with the complexity of his marriage while coping with the knowledge his single friends don’t understand what it’s all about. I thought actor Isaish Washingon as Savon gave a solid performance, considering his small screen time.
As for the rest of the cast, they were mostly just the sounding boards for Nina and Darius, but I didn’t mind because they did have small moments of their own that I enjoyed. Especially when the invisible lines of friendship were crossed and when they provided witty lines, insights and a strong sense of friendship, which is always a great thing to have in films of this kind. Same for your clear appreciation of poetry and music, which you used in the film from time to time, which was nice. I’m not a huge fan of poetry, but in this film, it worked.
However, I sometimes felt I was watching a student feature film because it has had its moments of self-consciousness and once in a while, erratic pacing. The running time is, I felt, too long. During the last 40 minutes, I could feel my patience was running on empty, which somewhat lessened the impact of the sweet conclusion. These are classic signs of a student feature film or the work by a self-indulgent director.
I didn’t know at the time, though, that love jones was indeed your debut directorial effort and your first script. In fact, love jones is your first and only directorial effort to date. This alone bumps the grade B- to B+. It’s a film that I think both men and women would enjoy watching for a quiet Friday night in, especially if they enjoy witty banter among friends. And perhaps also for couples who secretly wonder how a relationship is supposed to be.
If you make another film, I’ll certainly watch it.

Be good, be bad & be safe,
Jaili

love jones trailer:
Available on VHS, DVD, Netflix, LoveFilm.com and major rental video shops

Related posts:

1. Yet Another Fake Memoir (YAFM): Love and Consequences by Margaret B Jones
2. FRIDAY FILM REVIEW: Harold and Maude (1971)
3. Friday Links of Love