Had to share. Enjoy!
*THIS IS AN EXTENSION OF A PREVIOUS POST*
Greetings to all. Today I wanted to chat about writing females. For those of us that do so on occasion or on the regular, we try to craft a woman with spunk. At least I do. To me, there’s nothing worse than a dainty, whiny, want-to-be rescued, female. Even in this day and age where we’ve been told we’ve come a long way, baby, we’re still portrayed as weak, unintelligent, and needy. Believe it or not this is still a popular thing in books, television, and movies and yes, in everyday life, society still treats women as second class citizens.
We are every bit as capable as a man of doing the same things if we so chose, but that’s another topic for another day. Let’s stick to fiction.
In Facebook chats and from fellow authors and readers, I’ve heard the same sentiment. Why do females get painted with the same broad brush? Many have said they no longer read het romance for just that reason. They don’t want to read about the damsel in distress who needs saving or the clueless female who can’t survive without her male counterpart. They want strong characters in their books and so many cisgender, straight women have turned to reading only m/m romances. That is their prerogative and yes, it is also our choice as authors if we want to go that route, but this author is at least trying to buck that stereotype. I’m a rebel. A rule breaker and I, for one, love a woman with spunk who can take care of things in her own way.
Another thing that annoys me about how some females are written is their attitude towards sex. What do I mean? Well, it seems like even Miss Kick Ass has to be a virgin, or she can't sleep with any man or woman she feels like because she'll automatically be a slut. I mean, why? Think about the women you know. Your best friends, sisters, women you know at work, even your good old momma. Do you really think every woman you know waited until marriage to have sex or they NEVER had a fling? If you do, you are indeed living in a fantasy world. Readers always cry for reality, so why on earth do you expect kick ass females to be virgins or not be sexually active?
To me it really depends on the character. Miss Hirah, pictured above is having her own adventures in the Hirah Blaze Series. She's a talented female, gorgeous, and she's had her share of women and men in bed. She's not afraid to say it either because he's proud of who she is. Some would call her a slut, but I call her a woman because not every female is a dainty flower. We're strong, confident, and intelligent and we can stand on our own two feet when it comes to sex. We know what we like and for some of us, we like a lot more action than others. And that's okay. Why shouldn't it be? Whether you like being Miss Polly Pure Bread or a tigress in the sack, doesn't matter. Either way, you are still a woman! Let's hear you roar!
I’ve also written a character in my PROTEKT series by the name of Miranda Ashley, who one reviewer said should’ve been a man.
I suppose I’ll take that as a compliment, but it makes me wonder, why should she be a man just because she refuses to back down from anyone? Why do females have to cower when it comes to their male counterparts? My belief is, even in romance, a woman should be able to hold her own. It’s total fine if she gets her guy or girl, but the lasting impression should be she did it on her own terms and not a way that shows her as weak. As romance authors, we’ve come a long way in adding more substance to our plots. A lot of romances aren’t about the guy getting the girl anymore. If we can go the length to make our books more interesting, why can’t we make our women stronger characters?
What do you think? Should Miss Kick Ass be a dainty flower in bed or should she be just as active as a man? I believe if she wants to be a tiger, let her do what she wants. Let me hear your thoughts!
Hirah Blaze Two is coming your way soon. It's in the editing process now so please forgive any typos or grammatical mistakes you might find in the excerpt!
When the limo driver dropped me off, I quickly ran into my building, up to my apartment, and shut the door. Thoroughly sticky from the exchange with Chad, I peeled off my clothes as I walked, leaving a trail that led to my bathroom. The minute I arrived, I turned the valves on my clawfoot tub and leaned over, inhaling the steam. I needed something to get me into another frame of mind and a hot bath would do the trick.
Thinking of Chad’s rejection sent me reeling into a state of shock. As I said, I’d never been turned down before and knowing how he felt about me just made everything a lot more difficult. Sure he was laying a trap for me to see how I would respond and by early accounts, I’d say I’m already defeated because all I can think about is his sexy ass up under me in the limo.
I slapped the side of the tub and reached for the bubble bath in the caddy. I twisted the cap and poured a significant amount in because at the moment I was so distracted by what had happened, I didn’t bother to measure. Truthfully, it didn’t matter, right? I wasn’t taking a bath to smell good, I did it to relax.
Needless to say, I was far from a calm state. My head was going a hundred miles a minute with the possibilities and scenarios involving my bass player.
Should I play it cool and ignore his ass or just go for the kill, shoving it in his face, and make him feel bad for turning me down? The latter would be so much more fun, because I loved flaunting it on occasion and knowing Chad he would eat that all up and finally give in, but the sadistic bitch in me wanted to pretend like nothing happened and be cold the next time I saw him.
Could I do that without ruining any possibilities of being with him?
Wait, what the …
Did I just think about … a relationship? Or even something that resembled it?
I wanted to fuck Chad in the worst way, but did I secretly want more? I wasn’t entirely sure about that, but regardless I definitely wanted that friends with benefits thing. As he said, we could play it by ear and see where it led. Before we kissed, I reminded him that I don’t do commitments. He said he didn’t want to tie me down so why all of a sudden was I thinking about it? The bastard knew what he was doing the minute the words fell from his pierced lips. Too bad I can’t ignore them as I wanted because now wasn’t the time to be getting seriously involved with anyone.
Once the tub was full, I shut off the water and stepped in, feeling the heat sooth my tense muscles. The sensation made my toes curl in a good way and immediately, I forgot about being pissed at that jealous cow, Shylah and Chad. Besides, I’d always been a cocky bitch and why should I let my very hot bassist or some two bit wannabe who thought she knew music ruin my mood? Bottom line, I had goals to reach superstardom and though I’d need The Wretched to get me there, I didn’t need the aforementioned two to get in my way.
Thanks so much for reading today's post. Hope you enjoyed it!
Please feel free to share the post via FB, Twitter, Google+ and more...share buttons below. :)