Hello wild ones! It’s Friday once again, unfortunately for me since I switched days with my coworker this week I have to work tomorrow night…booo.
I’m sure by now you’ve caught on to the fact that I read…a lot. Books and feelings are all I talk about. I’m like a lame two trick pony. Well this little pony isn’t going to surprise anyone by deviating from what is expected, we’re going to talk about books.
Specifically the type of books I have been kind of obsessing over for a week now. The ones with the super masculine male character and his little woman. Books akin to that 50 shades crud, which I’ve never actually read…sorry about casting a judgment without reading them, maybe one day I will…probably not though, so don’t hold your breath. I’m sure that you know what I am talking about, so I’ll not waste any more time trying to explain the kind of books I’m talking about, but if you still don’t understand what I mean I’m talking about the books where the sexual stuff is so hot and dirty that you feel a little strange reading it in public. Get me? Okay, movin right along.
I don’t have any real problems with this genre as a whole. To be 100% I very much enjoy tales of seductive dominance, dirty talk, and just a tiny bit of pain. However, there are a few things I’ve come across in books that are under this particular genre take it just a step to far in my opinion. More than a few that I have read over this past week have taken the alpha (and can I just say that this term is overused…) male thing to the extreme to the point that the male lead is actively trying to get his leading lady pregnant. Like some primal urge, which hey under usual circumstances I’m all for those primal urges, to fill his woman with his seed (another turn of phrase that I’m not thrilled with).
The urge to procreate is a primal one, like hello all animals have to mate to keep their species going. What I can’t stand about using that as character motivation is for the most part it’s one sided. No joke, I’ve read at least 4 different books (2 by the same author, which sort of explains the trend) where the male is thinking non-stop about planting life in his girlfriend, lover, whatever the hell you want to label them as without ever once asking if the girl is okay with getting pregnant. In most of the cases the girl is young, like way early 20s, with her entire life ahead of her. One of them was seriously right out of high school if I’m not mistaken and instead of spending her summer getting ready for college or the rest of her life, she ends up shacked up with some ass hat who wants to get her pregnant.
What’s worse is typically once her man gets hold of his little woman in these particular books it’s like she completely looses her identity. We go from seeing this proud girl trying to make her own way through life, straight into some little subservient sex pot who is only there to grant her hubby’s every wish and have his children. Using the need to procreate as a major selling point in a characters personality is baffling to me, but not more than the willingness of the females who just let it happen. Like seriously, have you dreamed your entire life about having children? If not, why in the world would you be okay with letting the first hunky god like dude that comes along fuck you without protection. I’m 26 and I can say that without a doubt that if a guy was telling me how much he wanted to fill my belly with his seed I would run the other way, unless he was seriously ripped, but I’d still make him double wrap that shit because I am not ready for children. No where near ready.
Violence also seems to be a reoccurring theme. Most of the male leads are often violent in their everyday life. I’ve read several where he’s just a freaking criminal, which I still can’t wrap my dang head around. Maybe, I’m just to chicken to be up for dating someone who could potentially end up in jail or land me in the slammer. Other times, they’re just super intense, which hey can be good, but I guess I like my men hunky, intense, snarky, but still funny or teasing, not belligerent.
Another problem I have with this genre is the dominance outside the bedroom. I like the fireworks of couples butting heads and the mundane conversations they have, but these books kind of cut that all out. You get a few scenes where the little fiery woman may fight back a bit, but for the most part she falls in line and then you get so little meaningful conversation and therefore no conflict that you can use to relate to your everyday life. The men encourage the women to just push all their worries aside. In the two that were by the same author, the males went as far as telling the women they literally never had to worry about anything ever again, because that’s what they had men for. All they had to do was tell their troubles to them and then completely forget about them because the man was going to take care of everything.
Now, I’m not going to lie to you and say that doesn’t sound like heaven, it would be so nice to not have things to worry about, but that feeling would only last all of 5 minutes. The reason that euphoric feeling of never having to worry about things would fade is simply because who the hell wants to be so well taken care of they are basically an invalid? Never allowed to ask questions, voice opinions, or make decisions about their own dang life. Why would someone want that? Would I like someone to come alone who wants to take care of me? Hell yea, but I’d also like someone to take care of. Someone to share my troubles with, not have them taken away.
Maybe it’s just the billionaire fantasy, like I guess there’s isn’t a person out there who would not be thankful that their spouse just so happened to have a shit ton of money. I certainly wouldn’t kick a millionaire out of bed for eating crackers (so not true, I totally would kick him out. I don’t even eat in my damn bed, so he sure as hell isn’t going to). I guess the point of that whole genre is just to play to women who ultimately want to be taken care of in every way.
My aversion to some minor sub parts to the genre have yet to keep me from seeking out more samples, so perhaps there is a little tiny sliver of me inside that wants a big strong man to come along, sweep me off my feet, tell me that I never have to worry about anything ever again, and that he wants to tie me to his bed for the rest of our lives. May not be that tiny of a sliver…though the whole having babies thing will still be off the table. I’ve got no desire to have children. EVER.
Until tomorrow, stay wonderfully wild!