At our home, it’s the husband
who’s the romance reader.
He’s collected them for years;
we have a closet filled with
Harlequin paperbacks, some
going back to the seventies. And
more recently,
he’s accumulated a small library
of romantic books that go back
even further in time. Among his
prize collection of moldy-oldies is
a 1921edition of The Sheik,
which happened to have movie
stills of Rudolph Valentino stuffed
between its yellowing pages.
Yet his favorites remain not
books, but a crumbling collection
of romantic magazines from the
1930s and 1940s, the kind
experts have nicknamed
“pulps.”
I have a confession to make: I
never read romances before I
married Hubby. Never read
much fiction of any sort, for that
matter. My favorite books of all
time have been Laura Ingalls
Wilder’s Little House series.
When Hubby discovered the
“pulps,” he shared some of his
old-time magazines with me, such
as Love Story and Ranch
Romances.
Two things impressed me about
the older romances: Number one,
a great many were also action
stories, where young couples got
in and out of danger. Number
two, the heroines of such stories
were pretty darn strong. Authors
wrote some really tough “dames”
in the old days!
Eventually, Hubby became so
enthusiastic about the old
romances he decided to start a
magazine of his own—a
“fanzine,” like those that have
been circulating among the
science fiction crowd for
decades. To the best of his
knowledge, there’d never been a
romance fanzine before.
He talked our darling Daughter,
who was just turning thirteen at
the time, into being the new
magazine’s second-in-command.
Together they cooked up a
catchy name for it: Romances
With Attitude, reflecting the
tough, sassy style of the pulps.
All they needed was a writer to
get the ball rolling.
Hubby flashed me a smile. “Say
honey, you’re going to college—
how’d you like to practice your
writing by joining the team?”
I gulped. “Uhhhhh…”
Thus I became the magazine's
resident “wordsmith” until we
couldfind more writers through
the Internet. But I had one
question: “What kind of story
should we do first?”
Naturally he had a quick answer:
“We’ll do a kidnap-the-girl story,
like The Sheik. They’re always
popular.”
I squinted. “Kidnap the who?”
“Don’t worry, the magazine's
going to be family friendly. What
we’ll do is have a Sheik-like hero
kidnap the girl in order to rescue
her from danger. Modern
romance writers do it all the
time. It’ll be a cinch.”
Yeah, right.
To help me along, Hub provided
me with some of his modern
Harlequins so I might pick up an
idea or two from them. True
enough, I found some save-the-
girl stories among this bunch, but
it wasn’t one of those that gave
me my first real inspiration.
Instead it was a tattered
paperback from the early 1990s
that got my mischievous mind
kicking into high gear.
who’s the romance reader.
He’s collected them for years;
we have a closet filled with
Harlequin paperbacks, some
going back to the seventies. And
more recently,
he’s accumulated a small library
of romantic books that go back
even further in time. Among his
prize collection of moldy-oldies is
a 1921edition of The Sheik,
which happened to have movie
stills of Rudolph Valentino stuffed
between its yellowing pages.
Yet his favorites remain not
books, but a crumbling collection
of romantic magazines from the
1930s and 1940s, the kind
experts have nicknamed
“pulps.”
I have a confession to make: I
never read romances before I
married Hubby. Never read
much fiction of any sort, for that
matter. My favorite books of all
time have been Laura Ingalls
Wilder’s Little House series.
When Hubby discovered the
“pulps,” he shared some of his
old-time magazines with me, such
as Love Story and Ranch
Romances.
Two things impressed me about
the older romances: Number one,
a great many were also action
stories, where young couples got
in and out of danger. Number
two, the heroines of such stories
were pretty darn strong. Authors
wrote some really tough “dames”
in the old days!
Eventually, Hubby became so
enthusiastic about the old
romances he decided to start a
magazine of his own—a
“fanzine,” like those that have
been circulating among the
science fiction crowd for
decades. To the best of his
knowledge, there’d never been a
romance fanzine before.
He talked our darling Daughter,
who was just turning thirteen at
the time, into being the new
magazine’s second-in-command.
Together they cooked up a
catchy name for it: Romances
With Attitude, reflecting the
tough, sassy style of the pulps.
All they needed was a writer to
get the ball rolling.
Hubby flashed me a smile. “Say
honey, you’re going to college—
how’d you like to practice your
writing by joining the team?”
I gulped. “Uhhhhh…”
Thus I became the magazine's
resident “wordsmith” until we
couldfind more writers through
the Internet. But I had one
question: “What kind of story
should we do first?”
Naturally he had a quick answer:
“We’ll do a kidnap-the-girl story,
like The Sheik. They’re always
popular.”
I squinted. “Kidnap the who?”
“Don’t worry, the magazine's
going to be family friendly. What
we’ll do is have a Sheik-like hero
kidnap the girl in order to rescue
her from danger. Modern
romance writers do it all the
time. It’ll be a cinch.”
Yeah, right.
To help me along, Hub provided
me with some of his modern
Harlequins so I might pick up an
idea or two from them. True
enough, I found some save-the-
girl stories among this bunch, but
it wasn’t one of those that gave
me my first real inspiration.
Instead it was a tattered
paperback from the early 1990s
that got my mischievous mind
kicking into high gear.
That was no problem at all; in fact it
made the writing even
easier. There had to be more than
one reason why people would
dislike my heroine; her political
views wouldn’t be enough. If I
placed her in a
ritzy Michigan suburb, she’d be like
a fish out of water. Her thick accent
and southern ways would be a
further irritants to those around her.
Thus Bess Hawkins was born, a
teenage orphan raised in
Mississippi. Her parents died in a
car wreck, leaving Bess in the
custody of her wealthy uncle, Jason
Trask, who brings her to Michigan.
I figured Bess would need a villain
who was the opposite of
everything my misplaced Cinderella
stood for. I decided the perfect foil
for Bess would be another teenage
girl. Thus I conjured up Loretta
Trask,
Jason’s spoiled daughter, the most
beautiful girl in town.
I intentionally set her up as a
stereotypical “high school nasty”we’
ve seen in so many movies and
books, but gave her an added
dimension. In films and stories, such
characters are jealous or annoying,
but
are never really a threat to anyone.
In Loretta’s case, shes literally
physically dangerous. There’s no
rules she wouldn’t stretch or laws
she wouldn’t break to get her way.
The irony is, she doesn’t see herself
that way.
Loretta always loudly proclaims that
she’s “not a women’s libber,” but
the truth is she’s far more
“liberated” than poor little Bess can
ever hope to be.
The object of affection for both girls
is naturally the eighteen-year-old
hero, Rama Chandra, a political
refugee from an unnamed land
somewhere in the Middle East.
Hubby wanted a “sheik,” but the
usual bossy, “my-way-or-the-
highway” sheik hero just wasn’t for
me. So I gave Rama a “Clark Kent”
persona. Because he’s such a
sensitive guy, everyone thinks he’s
less than what he really is. Some
characters in the book dismiss him
as “that wimpy Arab.” Little do
they know that “Mr. Nice Guy” has
a backbone of iron, gained through
his dangerous escape from his native
land.
I saw no reason at all why a
sensitive gentleman couldn’t be a
man of action. Indeed, it would be
Rama’s concern for Bess’ safety
that leads him to “kidnap” her away
from her wicked guardians. This
leads
to a confrontation that teaches
everyone in the story the true
meaning of freedom.
It didn’t take long to get all this
written down once I had the main
characters solidly in my head.
Hubby used the finished manuscript
to recruit a local tattoo artist, Gege
Pruchniewski, as the first
illustrator for his fanzine. Gege, like
me, was not your average romance
reader. In fact, she didn’t even like
romances—but she liked my book.
She was so enthusiastic about it, she
readily agreed to help Hubby launch
the magazine.
Liberation premiered as the cover
story for Romances With Attitude
in December of 2000, at a small
comic book convention held in a
Detroit-area suburb. To our
surprise we later received some nice
e-mail from customers who’d
bought the first issue. One
gentleman from New York
even wrote about Liberation: “It
would be wonderful if this was a
movie!”
CONTINUED ON PG. 2
made the writing even
easier. There had to be more than
one reason why people would
dislike my heroine; her political
views wouldn’t be enough. If I
placed her in a
ritzy Michigan suburb, she’d be like
a fish out of water. Her thick accent
and southern ways would be a
further irritants to those around her.
Thus Bess Hawkins was born, a
teenage orphan raised in
Mississippi. Her parents died in a
car wreck, leaving Bess in the
custody of her wealthy uncle, Jason
Trask, who brings her to Michigan.
I figured Bess would need a villain
who was the opposite of
everything my misplaced Cinderella
stood for. I decided the perfect foil
for Bess would be another teenage
girl. Thus I conjured up Loretta
Trask,
Jason’s spoiled daughter, the most
beautiful girl in town.
I intentionally set her up as a
stereotypical “high school nasty”we’
ve seen in so many movies and
books, but gave her an added
dimension. In films and stories, such
characters are jealous or annoying,
but
are never really a threat to anyone.
In Loretta’s case, shes literally
physically dangerous. There’s no
rules she wouldn’t stretch or laws
she wouldn’t break to get her way.
The irony is, she doesn’t see herself
that way.
Loretta always loudly proclaims that
she’s “not a women’s libber,” but
the truth is she’s far more
“liberated” than poor little Bess can
ever hope to be.
The object of affection for both girls
is naturally the eighteen-year-old
hero, Rama Chandra, a political
refugee from an unnamed land
somewhere in the Middle East.
Hubby wanted a “sheik,” but the
usual bossy, “my-way-or-the-
highway” sheik hero just wasn’t for
me. So I gave Rama a “Clark Kent”
persona. Because he’s such a
sensitive guy, everyone thinks he’s
less than what he really is. Some
characters in the book dismiss him
as “that wimpy Arab.” Little do
they know that “Mr. Nice Guy” has
a backbone of iron, gained through
his dangerous escape from his native
land.
I saw no reason at all why a
sensitive gentleman couldn’t be a
man of action. Indeed, it would be
Rama’s concern for Bess’ safety
that leads him to “kidnap” her away
from her wicked guardians. This
leads
to a confrontation that teaches
everyone in the story the true
meaning of freedom.
It didn’t take long to get all this
written down once I had the main
characters solidly in my head.
Hubby used the finished manuscript
to recruit a local tattoo artist, Gege
Pruchniewski, as the first
illustrator for his fanzine. Gege, like
me, was not your average romance
reader. In fact, she didn’t even like
romances—but she liked my book.
She was so enthusiastic about it, she
readily agreed to help Hubby launch
the magazine.
Liberation premiered as the cover
story for Romances With Attitude
in December of 2000, at a small
comic book convention held in a
Detroit-area suburb. To our
surprise we later received some nice
e-mail from customers who’d
bought the first issue. One
gentleman from New York
even wrote about Liberation: “It
would be wonderful if this was a
movie!”
CONTINUED ON PG. 2
Though it was a well written
piece, what struck me was how
the plot and tone of the novel
was pure anti-feminist
propaganda. Just about every
canard that’s ever been used
against the women’s movement
could be found it that book. I
couldn’t let such ideas go
unanswered.
After all, in the late seventies I
was one of the first female
members of local carpenter’s
union. I worked hard to earn
the respect of my male peers
back then, even carting heavy
sheets of plaster board across
my back.
With that in mind, I determined
to set the story in the
mid-1970s. I gave it the name
Liberation to tie it in to the
women’s movement of that era.
The heroine of my book would
be a sweet little “women’s
libber” who’s bullied by those
around her because of her
beliefs—sort of a feminist
Cinderella. But there wasn’t
much punch to this concept.
I needed a lot more plot than that
While pondering how to get this
story off the ground, I went to a
clearance sale at a nearby
department store that was going
out of business.
The place was thronging with
women in exotic Middle Eastern
clothing that covered them from
head to foot, or men with
trimmed beards and
colorful turbans. There were
older gentlemen gowned in long
white robes, and even small girls
with hair concealed in the head
coverings known as hajabs.
Amid all the veils and saris, I felt
out of place in my jeans and tee
shirt.
This was when another
inspiration clicked in my mind.
My story was supposed to have
an Arabic hero…Why not set
the story in my native
Michigan instead of out in the
desert?
Michigan has the largest
population of Arabic and Hindu
immigrants in the United States.
Go to any gas station or small
grocery store in Detroit, and you’
ll likely find either Arabs or East
Indians behind the counter.
While the majority of the Detroit
immigrants are Chaldeans
Catholic Arabs) a great number
are devout Moslems or Hindus.
There’s a Masque less than a
mile from my house, and near the
Detroit waterfront is a Hindu
temple where peacocks are
allowed to roam the grounds
freely.
Doing some research into this
phenomena, I read newspaper
articles about immigrant women
who still wore traditional, modest
Eastern clothes to job and
school--something we’ve grown
accustomed to in the
Detroit area.
Bingo! There at last I found the
connecting link between my
“feminist” plot and my husband’s
“noble sheik” idea. My little
feminist Cinderella would join
forces with an Arabic immigrant.
Her fascination
with Eastern-style clothing would
be what bridges the gap between
her ideals and his more
traditional way of thinking.
My husband was equally
enthusiastic about this concept,
but he wanted one more element
added. He requested that my
heroine be from the
deep south, simply because
Hubby’s foster parents were
southern.
piece, what struck me was how
the plot and tone of the novel
was pure anti-feminist
propaganda. Just about every
canard that’s ever been used
against the women’s movement
could be found it that book. I
couldn’t let such ideas go
unanswered.
After all, in the late seventies I
was one of the first female
members of local carpenter’s
union. I worked hard to earn
the respect of my male peers
back then, even carting heavy
sheets of plaster board across
my back.
With that in mind, I determined
to set the story in the
mid-1970s. I gave it the name
Liberation to tie it in to the
women’s movement of that era.
The heroine of my book would
be a sweet little “women’s
libber” who’s bullied by those
around her because of her
beliefs—sort of a feminist
Cinderella. But there wasn’t
much punch to this concept.
I needed a lot more plot than that
While pondering how to get this
story off the ground, I went to a
clearance sale at a nearby
department store that was going
out of business.
The place was thronging with
women in exotic Middle Eastern
clothing that covered them from
head to foot, or men with
trimmed beards and
colorful turbans. There were
older gentlemen gowned in long
white robes, and even small girls
with hair concealed in the head
coverings known as hajabs.
Amid all the veils and saris, I felt
out of place in my jeans and tee
shirt.
This was when another
inspiration clicked in my mind.
My story was supposed to have
an Arabic hero…Why not set
the story in my native
Michigan instead of out in the
desert?
Michigan has the largest
population of Arabic and Hindu
immigrants in the United States.
Go to any gas station or small
grocery store in Detroit, and you’
ll likely find either Arabs or East
Indians behind the counter.
While the majority of the Detroit
immigrants are Chaldeans
Catholic Arabs) a great number
are devout Moslems or Hindus.
There’s a Masque less than a
mile from my house, and near the
Detroit waterfront is a Hindu
temple where peacocks are
allowed to roam the grounds
freely.
Doing some research into this
phenomena, I read newspaper
articles about immigrant women
who still wore traditional, modest
Eastern clothes to job and
school--something we’ve grown
accustomed to in the
Detroit area.
Bingo! There at last I found the
connecting link between my
“feminist” plot and my husband’s
“noble sheik” idea. My little
feminist Cinderella would join
forces with an Arabic immigrant.
Her fascination
with Eastern-style clothing would
be what bridges the gap between
her ideals and his more
traditional way of thinking.
My husband was equally
enthusiastic about this concept,
but he wanted one more element
added. He requested that my
heroine be from the
deep south, simply because
Hubby’s foster parents were
southern.
| ROMANTICS ON THE MOVE |
| ROMANTICS ON THE MOVE |
| by Linda Ambrosia |
Copyright © 2007 Lavender Isis. All Rights Reserved.