Monday News: California protects negative reviews, Twitter installs “buy” buttons, how books do or don’t affect us, and Ancillary Justice teas
Negative online reviews are now protected by law in California – Given some of the controversial cases involving consumers under fire for leaving negative reviews of restaurants, hotels, or other products and services, California has passed a law that prohibits businesses from punishing or proactively silencing consumers who may leave negative feedback. Some businesses will actually have consumers sign a TOS that contains a clause prohibiting them from leaving negative reviews, and consumers are unaware of this. It will be interesting to see if other states follow suit.
“Manipulating or attempting to silence authentic feedback impedes other consumers who use that content to make more informed purchase decisions,” Matt Krebsbach, Director of Global Public and Analyst Relations, tells the Daily Dot. “Just as important: Businesses that don’t acknowledge both positive and negative reviews create an environment consumers can’t wholly trust—and curtail the very opinions that could help them deliver the products and services their customers want.” –Daily Dot
The Big Reason to Beware Twitter and Facebook’s ‘Buy’ Buttons – A discussion of why the new ‘buy’ buttons on Twitter, especially, are a bad idea. Apparently a select number of “deals” will be offered on the site, with the idea that they are limited in time and amount. I personally think this is a horrible idea, because there’s already such a trend toward commercializing Twitter that this could have some really bad consequences. I’m not a fan of the argument presented in this piece that because people so often drunk tweet that they are likely to engage in drunk purchasing, but I do think this is a manipulation that will feel even more intrusive than the dreaded ‘promoted’ tweet.
Let’s step back and take a look at what we have here, from the consumer perspective. The sudden appearance of a social media “Buy” button gives the consumer a feeling of exclusivity—of somehow being selected and singled out as special. There will be pressure to act quickly or miss out on the deal at hand; by the time you shop around for similar offers, do some price comparisons, or fully think things through, that “Buy” button could be gone. What’s more, the act of purchasing is simply a tap or two on a phone, quicker and easier even than posting your latest brilliant random thoughts on Twitter. It doesn’t feel like spending real money at all. –Time
Can a Book Ever Change a Reader’s Life for the Worse? – Leslie Jamison and Francine Prose take on this question, and, as so often is the case with these kinds of debates, this one depends entirely on anecdotal evidence. Which strikes me as a sure-fire way to make sure that emotions run high and individual situations get magically transformed into generalized and unproven, unsubstantiated fact, making it difficult to really tease out some of the more complex issues involved in the relationship(s) between readers and books.
It has become popular to consider fiction in terms of empathy — how it can catalyze and deepen our awareness of lives beyond our own — but what if it can also catalyze other tendencies, other capacities or grooves of thought? Novels might not make us worse, but they can unlock parts of us that were already there, already dark, already violent or ruthless or self-destructive. People with eating disorders learn tricks from stories about anorexia. People with histories of drug abuse get triggered by stories of intoxication. –New York Times
imperial radch – From Justice to Propriety, Ancillary Justice fans can now buy “signature blends by Ann Leckie” from Adagio Tea. Does tea factor into the book, or is this just a random product tie-in? –Adagio Tea
No, a tea tie-in isn’t random. The Radchaai really like the stuff.
There are dozens of Adagio tea blends created by fans of various media properties (Marvel Cinematic Universe, Sherlock, Doctor Who, Lord of the Rings, etc.), so I’m not at all surprised that it’s expanding to books. I’ve purchased some, and Adagio has a pretty good thing going. Fandom will create for itself what the rights holder won’t.
Wow, this notion of books making things worse actually rings true for me. I write romance, and I love romance. But I had to quit reading it (mostly historicals, which I adore) because of my infertility.
So many romances (and at the exact same place in the book, heh) have the heroine getting knocked up after having sex once or twice. It’s almost cultish, this obsession with pregnant heroines. And it basically sends the message that unless you’re abundantly, immediately, ridiculously fertile, your HEA will never come. This, of course, is the message society sends to women as a whole. So for someone in the midst of infertility appointments and, worse, after we had accepted our fate and stopped trying, well, I just stopped reading my own genre. I was tired of ending books at 76% on my Kindle, but it just got too hard to read about woman after woman who just “knew” she was pregnant five days after boinking. (Not saying this doesn’t happen; obviously, I know shit about the pregnant feeling.)
So yeah. I feel like my own genre is a little toxic for me. I don’t know how to definitely find historicals that don’t have an immediately pregnant heroine without asking friends or something. I don’t write historicals, but I have written an infertile heroine, and will continue to do so, both for therapy (mine!) and for any other readers out there who’ve gone through the hell I have.
Getting a little emo here. I’ve never talked about this stuff online before. Not sure why I am now! I guess I kinda wonder if I’m alone in this. Honestly, there’s a part of me that hopes so. Infertility and the grief that follows is not something I’d wish on my worst enemy.
I’m about to have a nice weekend away with husband, so if anyone has a rec for a hot historical (any time period) without pregnancy, adorable plot moppets, or the like, I’d love to hear them! Thanks for listening.
@Lucy Woodhull – I hear you. I have different issues, but there are times when I have to limit /carefully police what I read for my mental health. I hope you have a great weekend get away.
I don’t know how hot you want, but Wicked West by Victoria Dahl is a lovely bdsm erotic romance novella (spanking and bondage) with no kids. A submissive widow sets out to (submissively) seduce a reluctant sheriff. It’s hot and sweet.
SBTB has had a few threads on this topic over the years, although most of the recs aren’t historicals.
http://smartbitchestrashybooks.com/m/blog/habo-not-so-much-fecundity-please
http://smartbitchestrashybooks.com/m/blog/gs.-vs.-sta-heroines-who-dont-want-kids
I feel you, Lucy. _Not Quite a Husband_ by Sherry Thomas is an excellent one. (There is another character’s childbirth, but it’s a minor detail and associated with the main character’s misery rather than happiness.) You’re not the only romance reader with this problem, so there are lists of these types of books. I’ll see if I can dig some up.
I’ve had several of those book experiences myself, most recently with that bear book by Linda Howard [shudder], so I also appreciate such things being talked about. The second half of the piece is a bit ridiculous, but the first half is thoughtful and I don’t think goes beyond answering the question in the title: yes, it can. I don’t think either author is suggesting it always or even often happens in a particular, quantifiable way; rather, it’s like Vonnegut’s character in _Breakfast of Champions_ — an idea in a book combined with his particular brain’s bad chemicals (the book’s term, IIRC) — sent him over the edge.
I also noticed recently on Overdrive at my library’s e-page has a “Buy” button for some books, which btw I found very annoying.
Here’s the AAR special titles list of childfree and infertile couples, including baby-free epilogues: http://likesbooks.com/childless.html
@Willaful: Is Breakfast of Champions the book with the asterisk ass-holes through out the book? It’s been at least thirty years since I read that book….might be time for a re-read.
@cleo: Cleo, thank you! Many hugs for you. And thanks for the recs!
@Willaful: Willaful, thanks very much. I’ll check out the Sherry Thomas. <3
@Willaful: AWESOME thank you! Heh I learned to skip epilogues a long time ago.
@cleo @Lucy Woodhull – On second thought, I should mention that the first link I gave could be upsetting. The request was sent in by someone in in your situation and the comments are all over the place – some good recs but also some back and forth about how upsetting baby epilogues actually are or should be. And a few recs that frankly miss the point.
@cleo: You’re so sweet. “Missing the point” is pretty much a guarantee somewhere in an online discussion of infertility! I’m pretty used to that. PS: Your kitty is gorgeous!
@Lucy Woodhull: The heroines of Courtney Milan’s Unclaimed and The Countess Conspiracy can’t have children (note that this does not mean that they couldn’t conceive).
More books in which the h/h don’t have children: Libertine’s Kiss by Judith James, Captives of the Night by Loretta Chase (Esmond tells Leila that they can always adopt if that’s what she wants, or stay a family of two if not). Gaffney’s To Have and to Hold doesn’t have any children that I recall, though I think Rachel is pregnant in the final book in the trilogy. Another Sherry Thomas book without kids, IIRC, is The Luckiest Lady in London. There’s also Miranda Neville’s The Wild Marquis and Confessions From an Arranged Marriage and Carrie Lofty’s Flawless.
@Rose: Thank you!
Thank you all! I have several new purchases and samples for my Kindle now. It’ll be nice dipping my toes back in the water after so long. It was weird being a writer who didn’t read much for a while. Reading is such a visceral experience that my grief made it painful to read just about anything. Other entertainment was much easier and gentler on my psyche.
You folks are the best, and I wish you all win the lottery immediately!
@Lucy Woodhull: I didn’t start reading genre romance until after my infertility was resolved, but I can imagine how hard it must be. The whole freaking world is full of pregnancies and babies everywhere you look anyway; not even being able to find peace in your favorite books, ugh!
One thing about the older traditional Regencies — no sex, but also no baby epilogues. Hmmm, makes you think. Are baby epilogues unconsciously a way of justifying all that sex?
@Lucy Woodhull: I just read and enjoyed very much Rose Lerner’s A Lily Among Thorns. No pregnancies, no children. In her other two books, there are secondary characters who get pregnant, but not the heroine.
@Lucy Woodhull: Glad I could help and I hope you’ll enjoy at least some of the books recommended so far. It sounds like you have enough to deal with at the moment without having to worry about your reading material making you feel bad.
@Ros: That’s not true. Penny does get pregnant in In For a Penny.
I don’t think that any of the characters in Joanna Bourne’s books have kids in their own books, but Justine does have a little sister who appears quite a bit in The Forbidden Rose (Justine and Adrian are barely teenagers in that book, but they’re secondary characters and mature for their age).
@Willaful: “Are baby epilogues unconsciously a way of justifying all that sex?”
That’s so interesting, and I’ve thought about this topic so much. I do think it’s a patriarchal way to make all the sex “okay,” at least on some level. Heroine enjoys boinking, but it’s okay because marriage and babies. Conscious or not, who knows? As always, I hope for more variety in the genre in all ways. Maybe that’s why I write slightly unusual romances/outright weird ones, depending on one’s POV.
@Lucy Woodhull: Thanks! That’s her “stop making look at the camera noises and let me enjoy my wonderful box” look.
@Lucy Woodhull:
I feel great empathy for your pain in the genre, because I realize pregnancy is often a part of the story. It seems to me after leaving romance for 15-20 years and returning to read may historicals in the past few years, it seems to me that there are far fewer unplanned pregnancies (perhaps today’s readers don’t identify as readily and would rather read women — or men– who know how to avoid it?).
It’s almost cultish, this obsession with pregnant heroines. And it basically sends the message that unless you’re abundantly, immediately, ridiculously fertile, your HEA will never come.
I have never gotten any sense that this is behind pregnancy in historical romance. I think it’s a combination of many women’s reality–yes, there are many of women who did get pregnant that quickly, and would keep having it happen over and over without modern birth control. It is also a common trope/fantasy for a lot of women, and the fact that there are a lot of books with pregnancy in them isn’t surprising to me.
I like that the romance community has become sensitive to triggers and that we can all find lists of books to avoid or seek out, if we have any issues that will cause us pain. I’m really grateful to this community for reaching out to you with so many recommendations, as well.
As for those epilogues… I’m not at all sure it’s about justifying all that sex. For lots of women, the idea of a family and children are how they imagine an HEA. I think epilogues with children may simply be enjoying seeing heroines they care for experience the HEA they themselves would want.
@Rose: I’d forgotten that, thank you.
@pooks:
“It’s almost cultish, this obsession with pregnant heroines. And it basically sends the message that unless you’re abundantly, immediately, ridiculously fertile, your HEA will never come,” should have been in quotes, since I was quoting an earlier post.
@Lucy Woodhull: One more rec – if you don’t mind wallpaper historicals, What Happens in London by Julia Quinn is a lot of fun and it’s baby and plot moppet free.
@Lucy Woodhull:
Now you make me want a romance series where the HEA is the couple being HEA with each other, only. Which happens, at times!
@cleo: I’ve read that one! I adore JQ, but I had stopped reading her on the whole for my reasons stated here. Maybe I’ll read that one again–so good.
@txvoodoo: Mine are like that, and they reflect my reality (I’m a lucky ducky). My friend Zoe Archer’s books are also of that ilk.
I have long assumed that the prevalence of pregnancy in romance novels (contemporary as well as historical) is due to some very old ideas about male virility. Quick conception is a publically visible sign of the alpha hero’s potency. I read one contemporary romance many years ago (I think it was by Jude Deveraux) in which the hero was one of several brothers who had all knocked up their wives despite their use of various modern methods of birth control. The heroine was intrigued by the hero’s baby-making pedigree (he bragged about it and let her know that she could expect to get pregnant soon). I found it to be a rather cartoonish expression of the Hero’s Magic Wang trope.
A friend had infertility issues and afterwards, I noticed all the heroines who think they are infertile who manage to promptly get pregnant with the hero. It pisses me off no end. It can ruin a book for me.
I don’t like the virgins who get pregnant the first night, either, because I think, what a waste! So little sex to enjoy before the kids come.
@SAO: Oh, it’s okay. They’ll be thrilled to have sex all through their pregnancy, and be ready to go again in no time after the birth, while the nannies look after the baby.
@SAO: I look at it differently – I realize that it’s a way of showing how masculine and virile the hero is, but it’s also true that women were often blamed (and maybe blamed themselves) for not conceiving, and in some cases they were not the ones who were infertile (similar to how women were blamed for failing to produce male heirs). So I see it as a combination of both things. I realize that someone with different experiences from mine might feel differently, of course.
@Lucy Woodhull: I can’t have children and I so appreciate books with infertile heroines who stay infertile. There’s almost nothing I dislike more than a miracle pregnancy. You know, the kind where an infertile heroine meets the magic wang and bam–a baby results. I’m looking at you, Almost a Gentleman by Pam Rosenthal.
Also, I really dislike epilogues in which the characters have six or more children. That’s just not my idea of a HEA. I love Balogh’s Slightly Dangerous, but the epilogue, in which Christine who is in her thirties (I want to say mid-thirties) when she meets Wulfric goes on to have six children (!) is too much for me.
I have a few recs for historicals with infertile heroines who stay infertile, if you want to email me. My email is janineballard at gmail dot com.
No, not random at all. Tea is of great significance to the Radchaai culture.