jmc_bks

For SBD, a review of a category-like gay romance I read over the weekend.

Title: Change of Tune

Author: J.M. Cartwright

Publication information: © 2010, published by Torquere

Source: I believe I acquired this book as a giveaway or contest.

While sorting through the various apps on my phone last week, I found this book saved in Bluefire; at some point I acquired the book and uploaded it. New book!


This is essentially a coming out story. Johnny has spent the last 15 years building a career in the popular music industry, recording albums and touring with his band. But he’s begun to feel that his life is empty and he wants more, so he chucks it all and movies out to the boondocks. (I use that word with affection, being a native of the boondocks myself.) Among the things Johnny’s dealing with are his desire for a family and children of his own and his sexuality.

What did I think? I hovered on the verge of discarding this book as a DNF nearly the entire way through it for a variety of reasons.

Reason #1: Was the author trying to see if s/he could fit every single romance novel trope or cliché into a single book?

• Cities are evil and country living is best, or so the narrator has determined. His disconnect from reality and family and even his own inner self is a function of and a symbol of urban decay! Only by fleeing to the country and living right is he able to find his true self and his One True Love! And country living is wonderful – everyone in the small town loves Johnny and would never speak to the press about him and is completely comfortable with the fact that 1) he is gay and 2) he’s sleeping with the county sheriff who has suddenly stopped being on the DL.
• Professional and/or commercial success is similarly evil.
• Having babies and raising children is the only true, fulfilling vocation.
• Being a soft touch means you’ll be a good parent. And being a sucker enough to take multiple pets from the pound means you are ready, no you deserve, to be a parent of a human child.

Reason #2: The artificial reinforcement of stereotypical gender roles.
The feminization of the hero in gay romance. Yes, Johnny is a man questioning his sexuality. Are there femme gay men out there? Absolutely. But in every way other than his dangly bits, he’s characterized with traditionally feminine attributes. Biological clock ticking in the mid-30s? Check. Unable to resist the cute? Check. Obsessed with labels and clothes and decorating? Check. And Johnny’s a bottom, of course. One who likes to be spanked by his physically larger lover. Because a gay man who likes clothes and kids can’t possibly be a top.  Because in genre gay romance, the hero with all the traditionally masculine roles is the top, while the hero with any feminine characteristics must be a bottom.*

His uber-butch boyfriend is the county sheriff, a suitably macho profession.  He physically intimidates Johnny when they first meet, pushing into his space and looming.  And he expresses his concern for Johnny in typically male gender role ways, by worrying about his security and safety, warning him of potential danger in the area and installing security measures in Johnny's home.  He even gives his little woman a baby (or two), just like a good husband should.  The gun in his holster or on his belt is symbolic of his penis, of course.

Worse, one of the few female characters describes herself as not being a “regular gal” because she enjoyed her profession more than she enjoyed being a parent. In Romanceland, even Gay Romanceland, only miserable, heartless bitches prefer work to home, you know.

Reason #3: The average writing interspersed with clunky, awkward phrasing. How many times did “big penis” appear in the text? I’m afraid to do a search to find out. Suffice it to say more than enough. I don’t expect sparkling prose with every book, but if the storytelling isn’t gripping me then the writing must. Sadly, that didn’t happen here.

The lack of any external conflict meant the book moved very slowly. If I wasn’t frustrated/bored as a reader with the stereotypes and tropes being used, this might have seemed like a sweet, hot romance. Instead it just felt like nothing new or fresh.

I’ve got questions about some of the plot points, too. First, Johnny was a rock star; yes, playing straight was probably easier, but as someone outside the music industry, rock star sexuality has always seemed excessive and bisexuality (if not homosexuality) always seemed…acceptable and a way of exhibiting edge. Is that just my interpretation? Second, the kids being delivered by the boyfriend: there’s so much wrong with that from a social services and legal perspective that I don’t even know where to start. It struck me as the sheriff forgetting he was supposed to uphold the law and deciding instead to use his position to make his boyfriend happy.

The sheriff lover + babies + puppies + kittens --> CATEGORY romance! As @SunitaD pointed out via Twitter DM and in her review of Samantha Kane’s Cherry Pie, a lot of m/m romances really are the equivalent of category roms, even if they aren’t branded or marketed as such.


Disclaimer/disclosure: Readers at several review sites seem to enjoy this book a great deal, calling it variously charming, a comfort read, and a book to curl up with. The things that they liked best about it – the lack of conflict, the schmoop of babies and puppies, etc. – are things that I felt were overused tropes undistinguished and unrefreshed in any way here. But YMMV.

* Why are there so few "masculine" heroes in gay romance who are also bottoms?  The only one I can think of offhand is Shane McCormack from K.A. Mitchell's No Souvenirs.

+  The Doc/Nate ficlet I've been trying to write is not cooperating.  Same with the Ray/Nate bit.  I think reading real!Nate's memoir has screwed with my ability to write him as a fictional character; I don't have that problem with any of the other characters, primarily because their canon exists (for me) only in the fictionalized tv series setting.  Maybe I should stick with Brad/Ray, my OTP.

I am biased, but this quote from Nadal's press conference following his loss in the Wimbledon final to Novak Djokovic is amazingly mature and well-adjusted, I think, given some of the prima donna behavior that fans often observe in professional athletes.

Have I mentioned how much I appreciate Radio Wimbledon online and the app?  Because I do.  I get to listen to it as I work :)  

Someone in my twitter stream posted this link to a photo retrospective of Wimbledon; the older photographs are intriguing, I think, and you can see the evolution of the game even at that most change-resistant of the majors.  Being more than a little biased, my favorite of the contemporary photos is probably quite predictable.
( It's hidden behind the cut... )

+  The grass at Wimbledon in the opening rounds is gorgeous, no brown patches yet.  I can't remember, did I ever post any of the photos I took when I visited last year?  Ironically, the tour stopped on Court 18 so we could see a court at eye level and touch the grass (no pulling) -- this was, of course, four months before the historic Isner/Mahut match.  (Which was a long match, but wouldn't necessarily be on my list of "great" matches.)  Fernando  managed to dig himself out of a hole and win in five against Radek Stepanek.  Sam Stosur seemed to have left her serve and her forehand and her entire game in Australia, and went out early.  Daveeeed won in straight sets.  \o/  

I probably ought to title this post "Lather, Rinse, Repeat" because I feel like I've SBD'd about this a million times.  And yet I'm doing it again.

Copy editing.

Or content editing.

Whichever it is.  

Dear NY Publishers, please pay attention to the words appearing in the books you want me to buy.  

In one recent European historical, really a historical fantasy (kudos to Growly Cub, who gave me that label) novel, the heroine contemplates buying a new pink dress in the shade of primrose, rather than ruby or poppy.  *sigh*  Although there are pink primroses (Asian), the commonly accepted usage is that primrose (as color) is yellow, like the European primrose.  This is like the usage of "rose" as a color -- there are a lot of different colored roses, but rose (color) is generally thought/used as a reddish pink.  Also, the pale pink implied is kind of inconsistent with ruby and poppy.  (My twitter complaint resulted in a long conversation about this yesterday, if you're interested.)

In an urban fantasy novel I read last week, a character howled.  Which is not a big deal...except in the last book of the series, readers were told that his vocal chords were so damaged that he would never howl again.  And that is NOT the first consistency error scattered in this author's books (hello, percentages that add up to more than 100% and clothing that switches from a sleeveless shirt to a sweatshirt within a single scene).

-  Red velvet cake is excellent.  But a special edition red velvet cake ice cream?  Eh, not so much.  I should stick to regular flavors like chocolate and vanilla, because the special edition stuff (except for maybe the Edy's Thin Mint chocolate ice cream) is less than satisfactory.

+  The BioChemist sent me a link to these and I was supposed to discourage her from buying them.  And now I've bought a pair.  Self-control, I have none.
 
-  The cold/whatever that began nearly two weeks ago had nearly died out, but has flared up again and moved from my nose to my throat.  Fortunately the fever only came back for a day or so over the holiday weekend, when I could easily take long naps.

+  Happy birthday wishes, early, to why_me_why_not !  Have fun at the Panic! show! 

~  The Nadal/Murray match is tomorrow at 8am EST.  I'm pretty sure I'm not going to get much done as I try to listen to it and do work that keeps me in the office rather than out and about.

TMwtH was funny and smart.  The sets were good, the dialog was excellent, and some of the performances were sublime.  Bobby Cannavale, Elizabeth Rodriguez and Yul Vasquez were excellent.  Annabella Sciorra was pretty good, if subdued, although that may have been a function of her character.  

The real draw back for me, surprisingly, was Chris Rock.  I like his comedy usually.  But TMwtH isn't a one-man show or a stand up routine.  Rock never became Ralph D:  he never stopped being Chris Rock -- his body language on stage was no different from the body language of a stand up show, his diction and delivery, all screamed stand up routine to me.  If the key to a good theater performance is inhabiting the role, he failed.  

I understand that Broadway likes to cast big name Hollywood stars in order to guarantee box office success (hello, Dan Radcliffe), and I don't begrudge that.  It's a little unfortunate that the heart of this play is so outshone by other characters.