Liz Langley of the Orlando Sun Sentinel‘s Pop Culture (November 9th column) says “Heaving bosoms, ripped bodices are things of the past”. Here’s a link to the original article and here’s an excerpt:

‘If you want to start a bar fight with a bunch of romance writers . . .”

Why is it that everyone always assumes I want to start bar fights? Nothing was further from my mind, but once the idea was introduced it definitely was a stimulating one. A bunch of smart, literary women who specialize in evoking passion, going after each other like something on Animal Planet — pearls flying, hair whipping around, tasteful French-heeled pumps hurled willy-nilly. If I ever make a foray into the genre, this catfight will be my opening scene.

The bar-brawl idea was mentioned by sci-fi romance author and former private detective from Naples Linnea Sinclair, who told me “If you want to start a bar fight with a bunch of romance writers call [their books] ‘bodice-rippers,’ ” a term for the flowery, one-note standards some people envision the genre as being.

Bodice-ripping is evidently as old hat in romance as the authoress reclining on her chaise lounge in Pepto-pink taffeta, Fabio covers and the somebody-save-me heroine. What has happened to romance is what happened to coffee in the ’90s. There used to be one kind. Now there are so many variations — of strength, sweetness and flavors — you would hardly recognize it anymore.

“Women are more interested in action/adventure,” Sinclair says. “They realize you can be feminine and still kick butt.”

Go read the whole thing. Post a comment, too.