In fact, if you had to sum up the magnitude of the hero’s Mighty Mighty Wang of Lovin’ in one letter, that letter would be “r.” Yes: “r.”
Penises are important. And heroic romance novel penises, they are important, but never are they impotent. Do not minimize that “r” of distinction.
Behold the multitude of achievements that can be attributed to judicious applications of the turgid man-staff:
Heal childhood trauma, one orgasm at a time
Awaken a woman from a complete absence of sexual knowledge, one orgasm at a time
Craft the perfect insatiable and instinctively excellent sexual partner, one orgasm at a time
Elevate sexual intercourse to near heavenly experiences, one orgasm at a time
Exist in a state of constant hornytoad, alleviated one orgasm at a time.
All this pressure can get to be a bit much for heroes, particularly in the changing plot climate of the romance genre. Witness this series of internal e-mails we uncovered recently from the International Consortium of Heroes (ICH), the body responsible for sourcing the various hero archetypes to romance novels.
From: Lord Hawklencravenbearesfordvilleperegrineton [perryschnookums@ icheroes.org]
To: All Heads of Sections
Subject: Problematic new requirements
A certain alarming trend has come to my attention of late, and this is the proverbial straw that has broken the camel’s back.
When the hero’s worldviews stopped being normative in the late 1980s, forcing our emotional turmoil and growth to equal the heroines’, we stepped up to the plate and delivered. When we had to prove ourselves worthy of the heroines, instead of having our status secured by a combination of fiat and our dashing good looks, we worked long and hard hours to ensure satisfaction for all parties. When critics pointed out that we represent the reader or the heroine’s Jungian shadow self, we cringed at the indignity of our loss of autonomous identity, but agreed. When told we have to represent and embrace the integration of the reader and heroine’s selves, we worked round the clock to train new recruits.
But now I find that bisexual heroes are beginning to gain ground, as erotic romances with ménage scenarios become increasingly popular. I’ve always conceded without so much as a quiver of my upper lip when new developments appeared on the horizon and new tasks were flung at us; I do balk, however, at having to become acquainted with somebody else’s purple-helmed soldier of passion. We have enough pressure placed on our penises as it is, between providing magic orgasms and somehow becoming the symbol of liberation and completion; I’m not sure adding the pressure of another cock on mine is going to be viable. Any thoughts?
Perry
Head of the Rakish Aristocrat Section
“Love will find a way through paths where wolves fear to prey.”
—Lord Byron
From: Captain Sbloodstreuth [[email protected]]
To: All Heads of Sections
Subject: Re: Problematic new requirements
Am I alone in thinking this sounds kind of fun?
Guys love girl-on-girl. Women love the idea of having two men tending to their every need. I, for one, welcome the additional sex and the idea of splitting duties with somebody else. Those romance heroines can be such a tetchy, high-maintenance lot.
Just sayin’.
Sbloodstreuth
Head of Pirates, Rogues, and Other Scallywags
From: Vlad McCullough [[email protected]]
To: All Heads of Sections
Subject: Re: Problematic new requirements
Och, ’tis not more work for me Jimmy Johnson I be worried about. I dinnae ken if you wee heroine can handle two braw laddies like me feeding on her. Also, if there be two in the picture, who gets the transformation credit for turning the lass into a vampire? I need only one mair before I qualify for an all-expense-paid vacation to Bermuda.
Vlad McCullough
Head of the Scottish, Vampire, and Scottish Vampire Section
Poor Perry. He’s so misguided, carrying the weight of his own passion around in his breeches, in addition to all that sexual responsibility. Truly, the hero’s apple-headed trousersnake has incredibly diverse powers. If it could be packaged as a toy, it would be a top seller and be completely impossible to find come the holidays.* It slices! It dices! It brings women to immense orgasm even if they’ve never located their own clitoris! And once it springs into action, unless the plot calls for ruination of reputation, the hero and heroine will never get caught. Ever! The mighty wang is its own camouflage. Even if the hero rushes headlong into a fit of murky passion in the middle of an opera box hanging off the balcony in full view of the entire orchestra, the actors, the audience, and the stage hands, they will not get caught. They won’t even be noticed. It’s a hallmark of romance: once the mighty wang begins its loving assault, the happy couple obfuscates like a seasoned RPG player with an invisibility cloak and no one will ever be the wiser.
But more importantly, the mighty wang offers the Key to True Love. Though he may not expect it, the mighty wang reveals that the heroine is his One and Only. How? He must have the orgasm to end all orgasms, a moment of jizztastic glory that will communicate to his brain from the depths of his man part that This Is the Woman for Him, forever and ever, amen. This moment of realization is usually quite different for the heroine, but for the hero, his happy ending begins and ends in the orgasm. In Old Skool romance, his orgasm of perfection yields anger because she has control over a part of him, and as an immensely self-controlled individual, this is intolerable. In New Skool romances, that orgasm of perfection means that she has inspired an intensity that’s part obsession, part irritation, and part priapism: he’s hard for her, exclusively her, forever. Regardless of the Skool of the romance, she of the Magic Hoo Hoo brings him to monogamous attachment. That is a powerful wang indeed. It identifies the lady love, initiates her into sexual experience, creates a powerful monogamy for the hero, conceals any stray amorous adventures that might possibly get one or both of them ruined, offers the most powerful orgasms ever, and yet is contained in a convenient pocket-size package suitable for travel.
Mavis’s doctoral thesis traces the cultural and sexual history of Wangus mightus lovinus.
CREATE THE PERFECT HERO
Now that you have a basic grasp of the hero’s mighty cave crusader, and his role and responsibility, let’s move on to crafting the perfect hero.
First, if you’re writing a historical, you need some colors. Consider the following colors for your hero’s eyes:
Metal
Slate
Flint
Gunmetal
Steel
Charcoal
Granite
Shale
Cloud
Silver
Stormy
Partly sunny with a 65 percent chance of showers.
What, twelve shades of gray doesn’t do it for you? While your heroine may have jewel-toned eyes of the most priceless variety, heroes, they are usually described in metallic terms, ranging from the ever-popular gunmetal gray to steel blue, cold green, or, in a rare and paranormal exception, amber. Never, however, are the hero’s eyes purple. That’s indubitably too gay.
Eyes are a simple task, really, and for a while there, most heroes were indistinguishable from the “tall, dark, and handsome” model except by the colors of their eyes. And after the eyes, there’s one element you cannot forget: the eyelashes. No hero has stubby, forgettable eyelashes. They’re always long, deceptively sooty, and visible from at least two to three acres away. When the heroine gives her survey of the hero, and notes the things about him that she cannot help but stare at, his eyes, and then his eyelashes, are nearly always mentioned. Long eyelashes are that first key that This Is the Hero because somehow eyelashes have become synonymous with some deeper, hidden sensitivity and kindness. No one who has long, sweeping eyelashes is evil, obviously.
Once you’ve picked the best shade for you
r hero’s flinty, steely gray eyes, consider hair color choices, such as:
Black
Brown
Auburn
Blond
It can be reasonably simple to physically craft a hero. They have dark hair, most of them, with the occasional blond running about, they wear their hair in such a way that indicates they aren’t aware of it in the least—which is just ludicrous when you think about the burgeoning men’s hair-care industry and the number of men who obsess about their hair and how much they have of it. Sometimes the hero’s hair is a touch longer than is fashionable. Sometimes it’s short and effortless. Sometimes it’s buzzed off entirely, which is standard operating procedure if your hero is in the military. But whatever style the hero sports, there aren’t many scenes of him using mousse, gel, or even a comb and a mirror at the same time. Usually he’ll run his fingers through his hair and be done with it—never mind that the average male usually runs his fingers through his hair to wipe something off in the absence of a napkin or a tissue.
Once you’ve got hair and eye color, you can work out the details of his nose (Roman? Patrician? Straight? Pointed? Slightly crooked from a possible fight in years past? That’s always good for a sexy, dangerous touch!) and his lips (Sensitive! Kissable! Full!). The hero’s lips can be firm to unyielding, and he can wield them in a punishing manner or press them together in leashed fury. Regardless, the heroine will usually notice them, and come into personal contact with them soon enough.
Now it’s time to locate the hero, by which we mean time period. If he’s historical, he needs himself a lordly title. Not every hero is a lord, but many of them are. And you know what you need to find the perfect title for your hero?
Us, of course.
Create the Perfect Title for your Lordly Hero! Pick one word from columns A, B, or C to craft the title that conveys both his lordly peerage and his dark, dangerous, sultry, and potentially hilly personality.
Predatory Animal
Geographical Formation
Color or Temperature
Hawk
Crag
Slate
Ram
Cliff(e)
Black
Peregrine
Land
Gray
Eagle
Shire
Cobalt
Lyger
Hollow
Charcoal
Falcon
Rock
Emerald
Lion
Palisade
Cold
Wolf
Ton
Burn
Hound
Swamp
Chill
Fox
Ridge
Fire
Bear
Water
Numb
Note: These titles are not exclusively English. A lordly sort of hero could easily be Scottish, or even from another part of Europe entirely. But most of them are English. As a matter of fact, according to the ICH Facebook status, they’re all at Almack’s right now, drinking off-temperature lemonade and cursing the lack of brandy and the more lame and obvious titles bestowed upon them.
But suppose your hero is a contemporary sort of fellow. He needs himself a job. He can be any number of color combinations, and he might even have a title, but modern men need jobs, because not only are they jobs, they are identities. This symbiotic linkage of purpose and person is very American, where not a single cocktail hour goes by without someone asking, “What do you do?” and having to give the response, “I’m a ______.” Notice the use of “to be.” Not “I run a romance review Web site.” The shorter, more authoritative answer, at least for us, is, “I’m a Bitch.” Marvelous for us, but if you’re not so fond of being identified by your occupation, well, in the United States, you’re shit out of luck.
And so is the hero. The hero’s occupation often forms a shorthand to his character. He’s a cop, a SEAL, a security consultant? He has bulging biceps, a tendency toward suspicion, and trusts no one, not even Fox Mulder. He’s an artist, or a writer? He’s ornery, isolated, somewhat misanthropic, and not at all pleased to see you. He’s a diplomat, a CEO, a billionaire CEO diplomat? A tycoon of some unidentified industry? He’s ruthless, confident, perhaps even debonair and stylish in an effortlessly authoritative way. See what we mean? Job = identity = shorthand character sketch. So, let us give you a hand: shuffle the deck of romance cliché job options!
Army Ranger
Jewel thief
Art thief
Navy SEAL
Assassin
Police officer
Billionaire
Scrabble champion
CEO, unspecified industry
Secret agent
CIA agent
Security agent
Code breaker
Sheikh
Consultant of unknown specialty
Slayer of evil
Cowboy
Sniper
Detective
Surgeon
Doctor
Tycoon, unspecified industry
FBI agent
Vampire
Former military operative
Weaponry expert
Highland warrior
Werewolf
Heroes are, in some ways, more constrained in their career choices than heroines, because readers want the hero’s career to be sexy. Doctors are good—lots of cultural cachet, right? But only sexy doctor jobs are good: the life-saving ones that deal with exotic specialties and bits that aren’t too squidgy. Neurosurgeon, cardiovascular surgeon, pediatrician, ER doctor? Ding, ding, ding, ding. Podiatrist, gynecologist, proctologist, urologist, dermatologist specializing in disorders of the sweat glands? Bzzzzt. No.
Jobs that are associated with femininity are also tref, unless they involve athleticism or also carry considerable cultural cachet. Hairdresser, dog groomer, and kindergarten teacher are questionable; opera singer, fashion designer, and ballet dancer, on the other hand, are fair game, if somewhat rare.
And furthermore, we want the heroes to have jobs in positions of power, preferably one that’s superior to the heroine’s. Boss-secretary romances published by Harlequin still sell, if the crop of virgin boardroom mistress titles don’t lead us wrong. But one in which the heroine is the boss, and the hero the secretary? Rare. If the heroine has superior rank in some way, it generally has to be balanced by the hero being a complete and utter badass in some other way. Is she the CEO of some Fortune 500 company? Then he’s a tough-talking supercop, and he’s going to save her very rich, very fine ass from some terrorists.
Pedestrian middle-management jobs are also unsexy and therefore unheroic. You probably won’t see a hero who’s an accountant, a warranty adjuster, a warehouse manager, or an associate manager of marketing—unless he’s embroiled in some sort of massive mess and accidentally becomes an action hero. Danger can make any job sexy.
Except proctology. Dangerous proctology makes all of us want to curl up in a tiny ball and cry.
No matter what your hero’s name, color combination, title, or job, there are ten guidelines you need to be aware of in terms of the hunka hot manly man action in a romance. Like the Pirate’s Code, these aren’t so much rules as they are guidelines. Very powerful, virile, smooth-chested guidelines.
10. Betas are tough—to sell.
Some people adore them, but most romance heroes are alpha males so alpha they erect flagpoles in their front yards so every morning they can take a whizz in the highest possible spot.
The exception to the rule: Candy can go on for about twelve hours about her very favorite aforementioned beta hero, Christy from Patricia Gaffney’s To Love and to Cherish. The role of forbidden attraction and Christy’s marvelously strong character despite not being the typical alpha male are deeeelicious. But usually, alpha males—not alphole males, please!—rule the pages of your nearest romance novel.
9. Heroes are never stupid.
They can be locked within their own bodies follo
wing a brain seizure, unable to speak clearly or even communicate at all, but they are never stupid. Stupidity is never heroic. Even in its most twisted, hidden form, so disguised you can’t tell it’s there, intelligence is always present, like the Duke of Jervaulx in Kinsale’s Flowers from the Storm. He’s a profligate rake, debauched to the very thread of his hemlines, but he’s a math genius—so even when he’s rendered mute, he’s brilliant—and brilliantly angry. When Maddy Timms, a quiet Quaker woman, realizes that he can’t talk but can still think, it’s a very angst-drenched but powerful romance, among the best written, bar none.
8. Heroes rarely travel in packs, and if they do, they come in those convenient individually packaged single-serving-size packs: in a group, yet completely alone. With the advent of the werewolf hero, people are right now probably firing up their Gmail accounts to tell us how wrong we are about that one, because their favorite hero, Davien Earlesviscoundukertoffwoffwoff, is totally a werewolf and has a pack of fourteen brothers, each with his own sequel and they are so good—yes, yes, we know. But hear us out.
Beyond Heaving Bosoms Page 9