romance — Author Melanie Ting

Growing up Canadian, I’m used to coveting thing that I can’t get here. Like adorable housewares from Target, the television series Younger, or burgers from Shake Shack. Sorry, Mel, only in America.

So imagine my surprise, when last year I tweeted about my love for Ayesha At Last and was told by a friend that she couldn’t buy it in the States. I felt superior. Finally something—other than Coffee Crisps and Old Dutch chips—that’s only in Canada. Pity.

But your wait is over, my American amigos. Ayesha At Last by Uzma Jalaluddin is now available for preorder with a spiffy new cover that’s even prettier than the Canadian one. And here’s why you should get your pre-order finger clicking.

Ayesha at Last is a wonderful cocktail of a book. Wait, can a Muslim romance be a cocktail? Okay, it’s a multi-layered cake of delight. I relish a good setting, but even better is a new world in familiar surroundings. It takes place in Scarborough, a suburb of Toronto that’s also famous for being… my birthplace! Ayesha is a heroine with artistic dreams, feminist determination, and practicality—all tucked under a stylish purple hijab. And the hero Khalid is stern and rigid on the outside, but underneath he longs for love and connection.

Jalaluddin brilliantly layers her book. The central story is the growing love between Ayesha and Khalid. They dislike each other initially, but are drawn together, often because they’re the only sensible people in the room. Simultaneously, the reader is forced to question his/her own prejudices. Would we assume, as Ayesha does, that Khalid with his long beard and robe is a fundamentalist (she calls him a fundy!) and thus disqualify him as the hero for a modern, independent heroine?

There are literary layers as well. The Indian-Muslim community is the perfect modern day setting for an Austen novel: a place where marriages are still arranged, where people save themselves for marriage, and where running off with a man can still ruin a family’s reputation. When Jalaluddin places dialogue straight from Pride and Prejudice into her book, the words fit the characters perfectly. There’s a lot of Shakespeare as well: direct quotes and the old mistaken identity trope.

Plus all the feels! Without spoiling anything, the scenes where Khalid believes mistakenly that his heart’s wish has come true are so poignant. Khalid is already true to his faith and his family, so he treats treat his potential bride with equal devotion.

Am I making the book seem like a serious read? It’s not! There’s so much humour in the form of an always-hustling life coach and a Hawaiian-shirted iman with the best throwaway lines. There are delicious foods, Bollywood movies, plus-sized lingerie, and my very favourite trope: a makeover!

So, what are you waiting for? Order up so you can be the first to dig into this lovely layer cake of a book. It’s one you’ll want to reread to appreciate all the details.

https://amzn.to/2TW3xQQ

Are romance readers the nicest people in the world? Or the smartest?

Lately the subject of book reviews has come up a lot in writing world. The online writing board I visit has writers agonizing over getting more reviews. They buy ads, beg family, offer trades, whine, and cajole. One blog has writers complaining about bad reviews, while another has readers complaining about writers complaining about bad reviews. Is your head spinning yet? Mine is.

On the other hand, a writer friend is worrying about her lack of reviews, but her sales are sky high. She wonders how she can tell if people are enjoying the book or not. I wonder how I get sales like hers.

So what is going on? Are reviews important or not?

I have a theory. (I always have a theory, because I have an out-of-control imagination.) When I used to work in advertising, we had focus groups of consumers to try out product marketing ideas. There were certain consumers who were called heavy users. For example, the beer focus group was shown a new beer, and the guys (yes, they were always guys) said, “I’d try a case of that.” A case meant 24 beers, which they were going to drink over a weekend. By themselves. I leave it to your own out-of-control imagination to visualize what these guys looked like.

Romance is a huge category. In fact, many romance readers may not even consider themselves that since the genre is sometimes belittled. So most readers have subcategory preferences, ones that fit their interests, like suspense, historical, chick lit, vampires, young adult, on and on. I read a lot of hockey romances, because I’m interested in hockey and relationships. And I can usually tell from the sample if I’m going to like it or not. If the sample is not enough, I might look at the reviews, but I usually look at the bad ones first. To paraphrase Tolstoy: all good reviews are alike, but bad reviews are interesting in their own ways. In fact, a bad review may tip me off to something I may like in a book. Like reviews that complain about bad language or an unhappy ending, which are not things that bother me at all. Therefore, the good reviews are not necessary for me to make a purchase.

But let’s get back to those heavy users, but not beer drinkers—romance readers. (Although they may well be doing both at the same time. Personally, I visualize reading a romance with wine and chocolate.) If you’re reading three or more books a week, you are already an expert. You can probably scan a sample in two minutes and decide yay or nay. You have a list of authors whose books you like, and you pick a new one up automatically. You may even download books based on the cover, the subject only (like a hockey romance, pretty please) or because a friend recommended it. Reviews may not be important to those readers.

Really, it’s like anything. If you know about wines, you can pick out a good, low-priced wine by tasting it or even from the label. Similarly, heavy-user romance readers know what they enjoy and can pick out books accordingly. If the books are good, they’ll pick up all the author’s other books as well. They are smart that way, they don’t need reviews, good or bad, because they have self-knowledge.

In addition, romance readers seem to be a lot more tolerant than normal people. I’ve read reviews where readers complained a lot about the book, but then turned around and said they’d read the sequel. It’s the equivalent of having bad service at a restaurant, but being willing to give the place another try, something that nice people do. (Or people who live in a place where there aren’t a lot of restaurants.) And nice readers are also willing to give new/indie authors a chance. They don’t know the writer, but the synopsis looks intriguing enough, so one-click and the book is bought.

So why are all these writers worrying about reviews? I suspect that they write books in other categories where the readers are not so smart or so nice.