Chick Lit focuses on the state of being in love.
When I first started reading romance, I determined that chick lit involved the female protagonist buying shoes. Seriously. It seemed like every chick lit novel I picked up involved a discussion about shopping (for shoes), a break to go to the mall to shop (for shoes), a conversation (while buying shoes). So much so that in my second Donna Howard novel, which is my partial foray into chick lit, I have Donna and her friend Theresa go shopping, except Donna ends up with a crepe pan rather than shoes.
However, a book can be "chick lit" even if no shoes or malls are involved. And it can be "chick lit" if it involves two male protagonists. And it can be "chick lit" if written by a man.
The archetypal narrative arc involves a conflict followed by rising action followed by a climax followed by a resolution. Both chick-lit and non-chick lit use these same elements. In chick-lit, however, the narrative arc takes a back-seat to the process of love.
Here, for instance, is a classic romantic narrative arc:
In Power Play by Avon Gale, hockey players Misha and Max meet up years after an accident on the ice led to Max's forced retirement. Now they are coach and assistant coach of a ECHL team (minor league hockey: the things I learn about when I read romances!). Internal conflict: moody Misha still feels guilty about ending happy-go-lucky Max's career, even though the accident truly was an accident. External conflict: the team is new, owned by a used-car-salesman type guy (who is excellently portrayed throughout the novel). Think Coach's NFL team in the sitcom Coach.
As Misha and Max grow closer, the team slowly improves. However, the team's cohesion is threatened by the troubles of the team's goalie. In order to help the goalie, Misha chooses to reveal information about himself that may put his relationship with Max in jeopardy. In a way it does--though not entirely as expected. The relationship's conflict--Misha's doubt and guilt--are faced as the team regains its cohesion. No instant perfect ending--they don't walk away with the Kelly Cup, not in this book--but things do end on an upbeat note.
This is the story. Sure, there are discussions of feelings. And sex. And holiday moments. And, well, not exactly skate or shoe shopping but some discussion of clothes, such as what to wear on a date plus descriptions of sports gear. But the story itself takes precedence. We are promised an unveiling of information, a discovery or turn (a climax will effectively turn a story from one direction to another).
So what about chick-lit? What's the difference?
Another M/M hockey romance illustrates the difference: in this book--Game Changer by Rachel Reid, which is reasonably well-written--the problems on the team influence the protagonists' romance but only as a distraction (in fact, I spent most of the book waiting for a particularly obnoxious team member to be paid-off; he disappeared 1/3rd of the way through the novel and never re-emerged; yes, that happens in real life but...).
The novel focuses on will-they-won't-they issues (Should they live together? Will the NFL player come out of the closet? Will his boyfriend change his job?). Rather than the relationship dealing with conflicts, the relationship is the conflict.
Think of a novel as climbing a mountain. With the classic arc, the conflicts--Hey, I'm not hiker! Hey, it's snowing!--inform how the mountain will be climbed. With the second approach, the conflict is the hike itself. The reader is encouraged to climb the mountain alongside the protagonists.
To bring this back to romances, with the classic narrative arc, the conflicts--Can I forgive myself? Can the team move forward?--shape the romance. In chick-lit, the conflict is the romance, specifically, in this case, a relationship between a barista and a NFL hockey player.
Castle's "The Final Frontier" combines romance |
with the sci-fi instinct for details. |
Both types of romances, the classic arc and the "chick lit" approach, can be well-written. And the truth is, although the term "chick-lit" is often used in a derogatory manner, many novels--even those without romance--use a similar approach. A passion for the precise number of decks on a Starfleet starship is not that different from a passion for the precise description of an engagement ring. Yes, fans of both genres tend to mock each other, but the desire to enter into someone else's imaginative world and experience it as a friend or a neighbor (interested third-party) is the same.
I do enjoy chick-lit, specifically romance travelogues. And I have my own Star Trek fan fiction. However, I have to admit, I enjoy the classic narrative more, possibly why I prefer historical and mystery and suspense/supernatural romance novels.
To be continued . . .