I don’t have a problem with men writing romance as women–or even as men, if they go ahead and call themselves romance writers. What I do have a problem with is that somebody like Nicholas Sparks or that guy who wrote The Bridges of Madison County can write some fairly average romance novels that are deemed “literature” and become bestsellers, mainly because of the Sensitive Guy persona their publishers are selling along with the book. If a woman had written most of those books, they would have been published in paperback with one of those fuzzy LaVyrle Spencer-type covers. They still might have made the bestseller list (if the author was big enough) but they wouldn’t have gotten the kind of attention that Bridges or The Notebook got. If there was a movie, it would be a Lifetime original starring Faith Ford, not a Major Motion Picture starring Meryl Streep.

I’d write more, but I’ve got a sudden urge to go up to the attic and find my well-worn copy of Dare to Love. 🙂