Feminism in my Romance Novel: Finding a Balance

Recently, I wrote a Romance novel. Well, Romance-ish. It is also a mystery/thriller. It also deals with psychic powers. But there's a lot of naked and a cool love story involved and so by entirely unscientific calculations, it counts as Romance. When I endeavored to write this novel, I was determined that the main character, Alex, was not going to turn into an Anastasia Steele or a Bella Swan. While I found it easy to write a strong female lead, I was surprised at how often I found myself falling into the trap of inherent sexism. It is easy to do in a genre that often revolves around romantic love being the end all, be all. However, especially in the age of #metoo and a growing awareness of the need for women's empowerment, I felt it was what I needed to do.  Here are the ways in which I feel like I succeeded.

1. Alex is very aware of how her body works.

Alex is a psychic whose powers are activated by arousal. As such, she has become keenly aware of what turns her on, and what does not. She is also very in-tune with the long-documented concept of "thought orgasms." This is shown in a scene in which she pleasures herself.

"Years of unofficial research had led Alex to believe that men were primarily concerned with the cleanliness of a woman’s breasts. At least, when showering with a man her breasts received special and extensive attention. When Alex wanted to prepare herself, however, she focused on other areas, running her hands in slow circles behind her knees, languorous strokes up the insides of her thighs or along the delicate planes of her neck. Her painted toes turned the faucet on again and again, refilling the hot water. She didn’t have to bother with shaving, at least, Pasha, her brilliant Rumanian accountant, had showed her how to make trips to the salon, the gym, and the dermatologist business expenses, bless him, and so her time was true luxury. She checked the time again. Neil wouldn’t be home for a couple of hours. She slid her hand below the water. Self-care, as Selah often reminded her, was very important. "

2. Alex is unashamed of how she makes her living.

Alex has built a career around her powers. She has made herself a name is a private investigator. While most clients are grateful, some are jerks, and she is not standing for that.

“So,” he boomed, “this is our little detective.” Alex felt the muscles in her jaw tighten, but forced her mouth into a smile. “Indeed,” she said, extending her hand and grasping it. She could feel his eyes crawling over her like bugs. She sighed inwardly. Inevitably, it came to this; the man who saw her only for the sex and not her expertise. She would make this report as brief of possible.

Turning away from the Neanderthal, she handed the file to Richard. His smile seemed apologetic. “Everything is here,” she said, “bank accounts, the affected clients, approximate dates and amounts.”

“Thank y- “ Richard began. His courtesy was cut off by an indulgent chuckle.

“Forgive me for asking,” he said, in a way that made it clear that he was not, in the least, apologetic, “but how can we possibly tell if this information is reliable.”

“Ms. Campbell has completed satisfactory inves- “

“Well, even a broken clock is right twice a day,” he said with a simian grin. He turned to Alex, who could feel her blood pumping in her temples. “What guarantee can you give that your . . . unconventional approach actually works.”

Alex had a canned speech that she used in these situations. It included a list of times she can been called as an expert witness, her curriculum vitae, her education. Today, however, she decided to take a more direct approach. She sauntered over to the towering man and started through her lashes into his eyes. Her pink tongue darted out, briefly, moistening her lips. She slid one hand up his torso from his waist to his shoulder, grabbing him when he moved away in surprise. With the other hand, she reached below his belt. His eyes widened in surprise. However,she quickly located evidence that he was not entirely displeased by the attention. Alex closed her eyes and focused. The information came slowly, she had not prepared herself, mentally, physically, or otherwise, for an investigation, but her brow furrowed and eventually it came.

“You were supposed to have a date last night,” she murmured. “Someone you met online. You bought flowers and sat at the table for two hours. She never came. You went home and watched porn.”

His eyes, which had grown steadily larger since the moment Alex approached him, were bulging by the time he pulled indignantly away. He was panting slightly. The large man cleared his throat, straightened his tie, and looked at Mr. Lowe.

“Tell Mr. Langley to meet me in my office,” he said, and strode out of the room. 

"
3. Alex holds Hank accountable.

Hank is the handsome local detective who sometimes hires Alex to help the LMPD out on cases. They are more than a team, though, they are friends. When Hank forgets these elements of their relationship, Alex is not afraid to call him out.

 “I don’t do this because I particularly like these jobs, you know,” she said.

He looked up, shocked at the anger in her voice.

“It certainly isn’t for the money, either, I get paid less for this shit than I do any of my other jobs. You think I like spending my time in roach hotels or standing in blood splatter instead of condos on the beach?”

“Why do you do it, then?” he asked.

“Because I want to help! I want to do something that really helps people. I want to affect something more than some company’s bottom line or do more than confirm for a wife what she already fucking knew. But more than that I do it. . .”

She trailed off, afraid to say more, already a lump was rising in her throat. Hank had treated her with dignity and respect. They had become friends. Good friends. Suddenly, she couldn’t take it anymore. Neil. The serial killer. Isolation. Her own possible death. It was just too much. She wrote a name, description, and address on a napkin and slid it across the table.

“Here,” she said around tears. “Do what you want to with it.” 

4. Hank, himself, does not treat Alex like a wilting flower.

Hank is worried about Alex, which is a sign of caring. Even in that, though, he does not condescend. This scene was really important to me, because I actually rewrote it twice to make sure that Hank was being supportive and not trying to be the white knight. Although, in another scene, Alex is not afraid to use others' vision of her as a damsel in distress to get her way. Read both below to see the contrast.

She could tell that they still weren’t convinced. She was torn between gratitude for and irritation with their concern. She was, after all, hardly a damsel in distress. If that was what they wanted, however ...

Alex slumped, lowering her lashes and pursing her lips. She sighed deeply and then straightened up. Sad but strong. It had the desired effect; she had their undivided attention.

“If it makes you feel any better,” she began, “You’ll be doing me a favor as well.”

Slowly, with a haltingness that was not part of her show, Alex explained what she had discovered and how. They reacted just as she had thought they would, with a protectiveness that made her glad that she wasn’t the perpetrator. She waded through the prerequisite offers to “disappear him” and “take his place” and when they had died down she continued.

“The way I see it, we’d be doing each other a solid. I’d be somewhere that he couldn’t find me, and you’d have someone who could follow this lead. As sexy as Miggs is,” she continued, “I’m not sure he could pull off sequins.”

All eyes turned to Hank, whose jaw muscled bulged and relaxed as if he was chewing gum. Even through her Onyx Alex could see deep crimson rolling off him. He stared at her for a long moment.

“All right,” he said at last, “Let’s do it. Alex, stay here. Let’s get you what you need. The rest of you, get to work.”

Hank leaned over his desk, his hands splayed on the scarred laminate. One foot tapping restlessly on the floor. He spoke in very measured tones.

“Are you okay?” he said at last.

Alex tried to answer. She tried several times but each time her resolve, her ability to compartmentalize shuddered with the weight of the water behind it.

“I’m surviving,” she finally replied. Hank nodded slowly.

“Alex.. “he said, and then nothing. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Alex picked at her cuticle for a moment. She’d always wanted model’s hands, those well-manicured smooth wonders. But she couldn’t handle the emotional burden of a manicure, the nail techs heard so much. So much and that emotion had to go somewhere. Her hands were large, blunt-tipped.

“Because I didn’t want this,” she said at last.

“What?” Hank asked.

“This” Alex said louder, gesturing to the office. “I didn’t want a dozen big brothers trying to protect me, getting in my way. I didn’t want a bunch of people knowing my business, or a skeeze or two thinking this was their big break. I didn’t want pity. I especially didn’t want pity.”

Hank moved to the font of his desk and put his hands lightly on her shoulders. She raised her eyes to his and shuddered a bit, remembering the night before.

“I don’t pity you,” he said, “I pity him.”

Alex felt rage start to rush through her then she caught Hank’s smile.

“In addition to being boring, and obviously stupid, if that man so much as hiccups in your direction he’s going inside for years. “Alex laughed, a stray tear making its way down her cheek.

“Probably has a small dick, too,” he said as an afterthought.

“I’ve seen better,” Alex agreed. Pettily. And it felt good. Indulging in her anger for a minute felt damn good.

“So, what do you need?” Hank asked.

Alex’s mind worked rapidly.

“I’ll need a throwaway cell and a place to stay. Also, some identification. Some clothes. Do you have anyone in vice who could give me a primer?”

Hank nodded. “Yeah, and we will also get a couple of guys to show up every now and then, keep an eye on you, especially to and from work. When do you need this by?”

Alex pondered, “give me two days to get ready?” she asked.

Hank affirmed, “I’ll also make sure you have some coverage between now and then.”

Alex shook her head wordlessly, but Hank held up a hand.

“It’s ultimately your call,” he said, “but hear me out. I just want someone parked nearby, so if you need help, you just have to call. Otherwise we will stay out of your hair." 

 

5. Alex is more than T&A.

It was very important to me that Alex be a nuanced character. She is attractive and also clumsy. She gets stressed out. She likes good food and bad music. She loves her friends dearly. She takes yoga and martial arts classes. These were all very important elements to me. Also, they can add a bit of humor, which I found appealing. That is shown in the following scene:

"Excruciatingly slowly, Alex eased her arm out from under the man she had been interrogating for six weeks. Her hand was asleep, cold and clammy, and she shook it gently, keeping one wary eye on his face. He didn’t move. Once the feeling had returned to her arm, Alex moved to phase two of her plan. She eased her free leg and arm off the edge of the bed, lowering them and letting gravity take her with deliberate nonchalance, to the ground. The last 18 inches went more quickly than she’d anticipated, and with a thud far louder than the acrobat’s landing she had planned, Alex was free stopped snoring with a snort. His name was Fred Langley, which added another layer of difficulty to the case as it was incredibly difficult to yell “Fred” with sincere passion and ecstasy. Alex froze, her brown eyes wide. After a second, he rolled over and the rhythmic sounds started again. Alex heaved a sigh of relief and began army crawling to the foot of the bed. She found her panties, black lace of course, and slid them on before peeking, Kilroy-like up to the bed. Fred was still sleeping. God bless Fred. And Merlot. And multiple orgasms. She stood and looked for her bra. It was nowhere to be found. Damn it. She’d liked that one. Oh well, it couldn’t be helped. She slid her dress, thanking the deities of fashion for sheaths, over her head. She twisted to reach the zipper and nearly fell, banging her hip on the dresser with a muffled curse. Fine, she’d fix it in the elevator. Alex grabbed her clutch and strappy sandals and left the room, dangling the shoes from her fingers and closing the door in slow motion. Once it had latched she sprinted for the elevator, pushing the button five times in a row."

6. Alex has emotions. All of them.

While Alex is badass, it was equally imperative that she be able to get angry, and sad, and betrayed. Alex can get scared and exhausted. Sometimes she can fight through; sometimes she can't. This added a necessary element of humanity that, I think, elevated the entire story. The next scene describes the time that she chose to sleep with her husband, one last time, while blocking her powers.

She knew that she needed to go into the next few days with her eyes, all of them, wide open. Yet she fastened the onyx around her neck. For one night, she would take her chances. Tomorrow she could be scared and angry. She could be a detective. Tomorrow she could be a psychic. For just one night, for her last night, she just wanted to be a wife.

7. Alex gets it done.

I'm not going to elaborate on this much, because I don't want there to be any spoilers. But this woman gets things done, even when she needs a bit of an assist from time to time. And I love that about her.

What started as a silly idea, with a lot of work, turned into a novel that I'm proud of, one that I think breaks some of the tropes we see so often while staying true to the genre. If you are intrigued, you can buy it here. If you have already read it, I'd love to hear whether you think I made it or not.