This weekend I was at my baby cousin’s wedding. It was gorgeous, touching, funny and perfect. My cousin was a beautiful bride, her husband a handsome groom, and the guests were all shiny, happy and successful. The wedding couldn’t have been lovelier.
As the night progressed and the champagne flowed, I ended up having a conversation with a fairly drunk girl who’d been dancing hard. When she asked what I did for a living I told her that I write, and when I was pressed, I explained further – I write novels.
Obviously when you tell someone that you’re a full-time author, people tend to be impressed. Yet when the conversation turned to the sort of novels I write – I categorise them as ‘chick lit’ as the majority of booksellers and readers seem to – her interest waned. Her darting eyes narrowed, her smile became pursed, and she uttered the following line:
“Do you think you’ll ever write a real novel … you know, one that isn’t superficial?”
I paused for a moment in shock, and the girl smiled kindly.
“Superficial means shallow,” she explained slowly, and I concentrated on the film of sweat that covered the girl’s smug, annoying face. It was my baby cousin’s wedding and I wasn’t about to get into a heated argument, so I uttered my excuses and walked away …
… Until now.
The fact is that if you’re a chick-lit writer, people often think you’re dumb. This wasn’t the first time I’ve been patronised, and it definitely won’t be the last. The notion that readers – and therefore writers – of the genre are thick isn’t limited to drunken conversations between strangers. It’s everywhere.
Earlier this month, two wannabe-feminists complained to WH Smiths about the labelling of fiction for women as ‘women’s fiction’. They moaned that the only other section in the store with a similar point of sale was for children, and they suggested (on Women’s Hour on Radio 4) that this degraded women. They also said that stocking lots of pink-covered books in this terrible ‘women’s fiction’ section was degrading, and then they basically whined a lot and pretended to be feminist. Honestly, it was ridiculous. And to think they did it on a BBC radio show called Women’s Hour. I doubt they saw the irony.
Anyway, the conversation I had during the reception reminded me of this bizarre outburst from Disgusted of Tonbridge, Kent, and on the long drive home from the wedding I got to thinking about how (apparently) clever women often judge books by their covers. I know we’re supposed to judge books on appearance’s sake – how else are we to delve further and discover if we want to read it? - yet there’s a definite amount of prejudice from (mainly) middle-class readers when it comes to a book that has a hot pink cover with sparkles on the front.
- Some women see ‘chick lit’ books in a shop or on Amazon and immediately buy it because it has a pink, sparkly cover and they know – at the very least – the story will be entertaining;
- Some women buy a book ‘like that’ in secret and don’t admit to reading or owning it (treating it as her guilty pleasure);
- And some women will see a mass-market women’s fiction novel, sneer at it, and will read a Booker-nominated one instead.
Obviously these are the extreme ends of the spectrum and there are lots of readers who enjoy all sorts of novels regardless of their categorisation, and I have used these examples purely for examples’ sake. But the overall assumption to anyone who knows books is that if a book is marketed to a young woman and features a ‘girlie’ colour, high heels, sparkles, or something whimsical it will be ‘light’, and therefore not intelligent.
This couldn’t be further from the truth.
The fact is that like all books, you take what you want from it. If we use the example of my latest novel SPOTLIGHT (and why not, it’s my site so I can pimp if I want to), you can either read it as a book about a girl who wins a TV talent show, or you can delve a bit deeper and consider the notions of identity within our celebrity-obsessed society.
And just like books, all authors have different shades of intelligence. Some are incredibly clever and have day jobs as doctors, lawyers or other hard-gained professions, and others – like me – have been able to carve out a career based on street-smarts and intuition rather than academic prowess. What we all have in common, however, is drive, determination and talent – and an intelligence that allows us to write at least 70,000 words that other people want to read.
The fact that I can write novels that both touch and entertain my readers is something I’ll never take for granted. But when people make the assumption that a) my readers are dumb because they enjoy my books, and b) I must be dumb to write something with a hot pink cover, I’m always going to defend them and myself. I’m always going to defend a woman’s right to read whatever she wants, and an author’s right to write whatever she wants without her level of intelligence being called into question.
It was only 150 years ago that Mary Anne Evans had to write under the pen name of George Eliot to be taken seriously, and this is something we need to remember when 29-year-old women complain that WH Smiths is insulting them by stocking ‘chick lit’ novels under a category called ‘women’s fiction’. It really wasn’t that long ago that women weren’t encouraged to read – let alone write – and if a bookshop has a category dedicated to fiction purely for women this should be something to be celebrated, rather than dismissed as patronising or degrading. We should be thankful that the market for women’s fiction is so large (apparently 80% of book sales can be classed as ‘women’s fiction’) that it warrants it’s own area of a shop, and that it is promoted rather than pushed aside.
If you think that the books with hot pink covers are fluffy, lightweight or dumb, maybe pick one up and read it and work out why so many women want to read it in the first place. Is it about a woman who obsesses over shopping and finding Mr Right? It might be – and so what if it is? But what you’ll probably find is that it touches on many other issues, and is reflective of a large segment of our society. WH Smiths (rightly, in my opinion), used the term ‘women’s fiction’ as a sign-post to tell women where these books are in the shop, and publishers use hot pink covers (as an example) as a way to communicate with potential readers – readers who pick up these books because they identify with the characters and the stories inside. My novels are about girls who claw their way out of sticky situations through hard work and ambition. That they speak to so many readers shows that plenty of today’s female readers can identify with that and are hopefully doing the same.
The women who buy and enjoy books categorised as ‘women’s fiction’ aren’t as shallow and as prejudiced as those who judge a book simply on it’s cover and write it off because it is hot pink, has sparkles, or appears on first glance not to have much literary ‘merit’.
Ultimately it isn’t chick lit books – or the stores that stock them – which are superficial. It’s the women who write-them off as ‘simple’ who actually are.
11 comments
Richard says:
Sep 12, 2011
Really cool piece. I often think that the easiest thing to read often has to be the hardest thing to write. When putting together the early versions of my first manuscript, it became apparent very quickly that I was very good at writing prose that was almost completely impenetrable and no one would ever want to read, let alone try to enjoy. Opening this up, and making the story engaging and palatable, whilst maintaining any underlying themes I wanted was the hardest part. Chick lit, I’m guessing, my experience in the genre isn’t massive, has to be some of the most accessible prose you can think of, whilst being equally entertaining and engaging. So, ‘easy to write’ or ‘dumb fluff’ it certainly aint. The hardest thing to do, is make something look like it took no effort…
It’s been interesting, when I’ve been on a date, or even talking with female friends of friends, and I’ve said I’ve written a novel, arts council published, blah, blah, they ask what I write, and I explain sci-fi, and the conversation begins…I’d say, at least half a dozen times, the girl has replied at some point, with something along the lines of; ‘I always think about just writing a chick-lit novel and making loads of money’. I too have had to make my excuses and leave on more than one occasion when such statements have been made.
I think the genre has got a bit of a ‘label’ just the way sci-fi and fantasy is for geeks and nerds, and any specific genre fiction has its ‘readers’ and it is annoying when people refuse to acknowledge the merit of the genre, and what it does, and the skill it takes to write it.
It’s funny, before when I tweeted you about the ‘blurb’ post you had linked to, after I had written the tweet, I instantly realised the blurb was describing (for me at least anyway) a dystopian reality, exactly like you said in your response. But I decided to tweet anyway, mainly because I wanted to see what you thought (brains are clearly aligned).
Anyway, completely agree with what you have written above, and no doubt I’ll meet more girls (and guys) that think it’s ‘easy to write a chick-lit book’, and in the future, I might refer to your post as a way of helping them understand, that being successful at something, especially writing, whatever genre is never easy, and if you’re writing something so accessible, that has to be so intrinsically enjoyable, it’s more of a task than you’d imagine.
Stu says:
Sep 12, 2011
People who write off chick lit and its authors are the same kind of people who think Legally Blonde is a trashy movie – though it kind of makes me happy that those people will miss out on one of this generation’s most moving tales of accruing self worth, having courage of conviction and shattering pre-conceptions. They’ll also miss out on the delightful Bruiser.
Also, by their logic Bret Easton Ellis must be a murderer and Chuck Palahniuk must be a nihilist who organised a cartel of homoerotically charged underground boxing clubs. Though that may be a poor example, as neither of those things would surprise me that much.
Leah says:
Sep 12, 2011
It’s somewhat ironic people think that women who write Chick Lit are dumb. How many of them could write a novel of 75,000-100,000 words and, even further than that, how many of them could actually have that novel published? You’re right. Chick Lit authors aren’t dumb, the people who think Chick Lit authors are dumb are indeed the dumb ones. If I was you, next time somebody acts all hoity-toity, I’d tell them just how long and arduous it is to write a book, because they clearly all reckon it’s a cake-walk.
I’m sick and tired of the prejudice attached to Chick Lit and if I ever wrote a novel, that is what I’d write and I’d do it bloody happily. At the end of the day, I just don’t like any other kind of books than Chick Lit and to bundle every single Chick Lit book into the same bag is stupid. Sure, some if it is a bit superficial and a bit on the light-side, but there’s hundreds of authors out there who write more hard-hitting Chick Lit, if you will.
You’ve said it better than I ever could and you’re one of the smartest people I know – from your blog posts, to your books – and I do wish for a day when people don’t just jump to conclusions on hearing the term Chick Lit. That’ll be the day, though, eh? Y’know what, though? As long as Chick Lit authors keep flying the flag and Chick Lit readers keep flying the flag… it could happen.
I love that you call yourself a Chick Lit writer. Not a rom-com writer or a women’s fiction writer, as so many authors are doing these days when, really, what they write is Chick Lit, as if the term Chick Lit is a bad disease. Kudos, Ilana! Viva la Chick Lit.
PS: Love the sound of No Prince Charming, not long to go until it’s out. Yippee!
Claire Hennessy says:
Sep 12, 2011
That girl sounds like an extraordinarily patronising little witch. Good grief. Most of the people who dismiss ‘chick lit’ don’t seem to have read a single novel which could be categorised as such and just base it on vague ideas that there’s sex, shopping, and shoes and not much else. Like every other area of writing there’s dreadful stuff out there, but there’s also a tremendous volume of well-written, thoughtful, funny, moving chick lit out there.
Eliza Green says:
Sep 12, 2011
All novels need a beginning, middle and end and a plethora of interesting characters to keep the reader interested. It doesn’t matter what genre you are writing in, the dedication and work is the same. Rest assured that those of us who’ve put pen to paper understand the struggles you face. If it’s not the Chick-Lit tag, its trying to convince the masses that novels aren’t created after a couple of frenzied writing weekends!
Nicola Doherty says:
Sep 12, 2011
Great post. Could not agree more. Nobody has asked me that yet – but I think if/when they do, I’ll explain briefly that romantic comedy goes back to the ancient Greeks and Shakespeare, right up to Dickens and HItchcock. Either that, or I’d say, ‘No, no. I am WAY too stupid to write anything else.’
Judy Astley says:
Sep 13, 2011
Hi – I was on that Woman’s Hour programme attempting (& in not NEARLY enough time to say what I’d planned!) to put exactly these points across. There is such ludicrous snobbery re books – I thought the Women’s Fiction labelling was just a useful signpost and filtered out the stuff we weren’t looking for in a hurry, such as Horror and Sci-Fi. As I walked down Regent’s St. afterwards I wished I’d opened with pointing out the sweet irony of the Claire-woman being happy to discuss this on a programme so-named.
Terence Eden says:
Sep 13, 2011
I think I agree with about 90% of this. I echo what others have said about the difficulty of writing a book – even one which is “superficial”. I know I couldn’t do it – having suffered many failed attempts.
But, I dislike the ghettoisation of “women’s reading” into “sparkly pink books focussed mostly on shopping”.
In the mobile phone world (which I work in) the default way to make a phone female-friendly is to produce a pink edition. These are popular with a certain demographic, but the majority of women (that I’ve spoken to) feel that this is demeaning and irrelevant. As a consequence, they avoid the pink edition.
So, I wonder if there’s a larger audience you’re missing because they wouldn’t want to be caught dead on a train reading a book with a cover featuring kitten heals covered in rhinestone?
The rise of the Kindle has allowed for “discreet reading” – no one sees the cover, therefore no one can judge you. This has lead to an explosive rise in romantic fiction like Mills and Boon.
In many ways, it’s similar to what Bloomsbury did by publishing an “adult cover” Harry Potter.
Personally, I haven’t read your books – I’ve assumed they wouldn’t appeal to me due to the way they are marketed. As Nicola pointed out, if I enjoy “classic” romantic fiction, there’s no real reason to dismiss your writing without experiencing it. If they’re on the Kindle, I might now give them a go!
So, what this boils down to (for me) is this: are you alienating readers who don’t want to read something styled as Chick-Lit? And is that market bigger than those who *do* want to read Chick-Lit.
Julie says:
Sep 13, 2011
Ha! I’ve been all three of your bullet points and I’m a lot happier now that I’ve stopped trying to like the Booker books and stopped feeling guilty about liking books that entertain me.
I know a musician who sneers at a fellow (successful) musician because “my music is art. He’s just all about entertainment.” Guess which one actually makes a living and has fans and brings joy into people’s lives?
Good for you, for defending your books and your readers. It seems to me that, of all the women in your post, you and your readers are by far the wisest.
Guyliner says:
Sep 15, 2011
Perhaps the issue is more to do with the term ‘chick lit’. Like its cellular sister ‘chick flick’ it has derogatory undertones and was surely only created to mock a whole genre of fiction, much like ‘misery memoirs’ for the slew of novels detailing a lifetime of abuse.
Women’s fiction may try and make the term ‘chick lit’ their very own N-word and reclaim it for positive use, but the trouble is the phrase was initially created to signify that something was lowbrow fiction, largely written by and for women. That the etymology of the term lies with the superior snobs who’d never read such a book is chick lit’s main downfall.
Jo says:
Sep 16, 2011
While I commend you for defending the intelligence of writers and readers of chick-lit, I think you are too dismissive of those readers who won’t pick a book with a girlie cover. We are not necessarily snobs. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar; what if we simply aren’t interested in girlie topics? Surely these covers are chosen by the publisher BECAUSE they should appeal to a certain demography that likes high-heels, handbags, and shopping? Surely these books are aimed mostly at young, urban women, and their concerns are a main theme?
I do not sneer at these books; but I don’t read them either, because I must assume from their covers that they aren’t to my taste. I’m a 60-year-old woman who has never worn high–heels in her life; I’m indifferent to handbags, and positively hate shopping. When a book cover emphasises these things it’s simply telling me I would probably be bored by the content. Isn’t that what covers are supposed to do? Hint at the content: attract those readers who like that content; warn readers who don’t.