Thursday, March 26, 2009

I'm Strange

But you knew that. I just finished reading an inspirational romance, and...meh. Seriously. I know the author, and I've liked other stuff she's written, but this was vanilla.

I don't like vanilla unless it has chocolate and sprinkles on it.

I tried to put my finger on it. Characters were drawn about as well as any can be in category length. Plot was fine. A few things weren't neatly drawn up at the end, which I kind of like. Not all problems should be solved. But a romance is, first and foremost, about the relationship of the hero and heroine, and this...just didn't cut it.

It wasn't just the absence of sex. I've read plenty of no-nookie stories that had heat. (And why can't we find a word for these romances? Sweet brings syrupy and childish to mind. Clean seems to accuse the others of being dirty. What do we call them?) I guess heat has become synonymous with sex, but I've never really suffered the loss if there's no bouncy-bouncy in the book. But I need there to be an intensity, where all the nerve endings stand at attention. I want to see the characters captured.

When they look at each other, I want to catch my breath with them. My breathing was not impeded at all with this story. There were a few good moments, such when he pinned her with his unblinking stare and declared that he'd get the truth out of her. Gad I love those stare scenes. I want to squirm right along with the heroine.

But when the relationship deepened, it got boring. And fast- too fast. Without that intensity- whether or not it leads to the bedroom- it's just boring. Get married, don't. I don't care.

Inspys have done this to me several times, and it just makes me furious. There are ways to show a captivating romance minus tea and crumpets if you do it right. Sticking in a few prayers and a church service doesn't make up for it, either. Gimme more.