'Trashy' fiction is my cross to bear

Some of my guy and gal pals honestly think of the romance genre as being purely trashy fiction with lusty covers; brawny bare-bodied men, big breasted heroines in tight fitting corsets, lame villains and plots so full of potholes they rival Mexico's. Why bother reading when its a typically happy ending for only the good men and women of these nonsensical fantasies with zero intelligence? I'm either accused of pursuing unintelligent escapism that borders on porn at its best when the world is full of domestic violence, high divorce rates, marching feminist movements and women dunking their dates' head with fruit punch for a sexual innuendo passed during dessert (hmm dessert... yep u get the pic?) OR that i'm a naive, repressed twit desperate for much needed erotica (puhh lease). Most would declare its all a load of bullshit and that written chilvalry, while dead, probably never really existed in the first place.
I'll admit they are right on one account, that the romance novel for all intents and purposes is escapism. Still, what do they expect when I make a beeline for the fiction section, something 110% more intelligent than a non-fiction? The romance novel happens to be a good way to de-stress from the rigours of everyday life. They can be funny, witty, touching and inspiring not to mention intelligently put together. A load of crap with bad influences? Well unless the reader is significantly naive, he or she while enjoying the narration, will still emerge with their common sense intact.

For years, lots of people from my own gal pals to my sister have expressed disgust at my choice of reading materials. I have to admit that there are supremely trashy novels out there where the man treats the woman as a sex object with plenty of bed actions in between BUT there are also many romance novels out there with worthy characters and great storylines extolling plenty of social and relationship values without coming off as preachy and desperate.


Then we have the new sub genre known as Chick Lit, a testimony to quirky fiction like the Bridget Jones Diary. Its still sexy but a more sassy, witty and quirky take on the single woman's quest for love in today's fashionable society like the well-known author of Sex and the City & Lipstick Jungle- Candace Bushnell, The Undomestic Goddess- Samantha Sweeting, Jane Green's Mr Maybe and the recently read Lizzie Jordan's Secret Life - Chris Manby.
[Lizzie Jordan's S. L really reflected my previous quarter-life crisis as it tells of Lizzie who sees herself as a Class A failure in life, love and career unlike her ex-schoolmates. She started out so well only to crash and burn like a supernova, stucked with a crummy job and average boyfriend.
Her ex-boyfriend in college, Brian, whom she still sees as the love of her life was coming for a visit and to impress him, she spawned lies upon lies about her so-called successful life and jetsetting career. Man, did i cringed when her lies were exposed but yeah there were lessons to be learnt- you know like if you lie, you'll get burnt but your friends will still be there for you]
Today, I still get flak for reading a romance novel, even with a decent cover. I still don't get what the fuss is about considering that my reading tastes pretty much extend to other genres such as horror, psychological thrillers and cheeky political commentaries. I have a sneaky feeling that many years from now, I'd still be a faithful reader of the romance genre despite being a multi-fan of the Koontz, Saul, Chomsky, Moore and Brown camps.

Currently reading: Divine Evil by Nora Roberts
Forever Odd by Dean Koontz
Signing off
Ms Censor-free