Writing a novel is hard work in itself. For some reason, I chose to make it harder by writing Too Close to Miss in first person from the viewpoint of a woman.
Okay, not for some arbitrary reason. I wanted to invert certain thriller genre tropes, so a female protagonist was necessary. And I default into first person unless I make a conscious effort not to. The easiest way to find a voice, for me, is to speak in it all the time.
But it certainly had its challenges.
When people read the first page of my novel, the most frequent feedback I got from male readers was that they didn’t think Mara was a woman until a few pages in. The most frequent feedback I got from female readers is, “why does she have her jeans hanging in the closet?” The detail just rang false. Jeans get folded and placed in a dresser. I don’t keep my jeans there, but that’s probably a guy thing: I have more closet space than I have dresser space. I fixed both those details for the final draft.
Just yesterday, a friend of mine tweeted (in a ha-ha-oops way, not a prurient way) that she’d left her house without a bra on. I didn’t think this was something women did. I know that, depending on physique and outfit, there are times a woman can do it and times that they can’t. But there’s a lot of lore and practice surrounding brassieres that, as a male, is just lost to me. Fitting, support, changing sizes due to fluctuations in weight, fashion considerations – all a darkened vale to me. My relationship with bras has fluctuated between bemusement and frustration for the last eleven years; that’s all the knowledge I can bring to bear.
I see this and I think 'Get a bigger clutch.'
My experience with femininity comes from two sources: the women I know and popular culture. Pop culture is a minefield when it comes to depictions of women (particularly independent women), so that’s better left unexplored. That leaves the women I know. While there are bits and pieces of several female friends in Mara Cunningham, I can only take that so far without being derivative. So I struggle to ask the probing but professional questions necessary to honestly depict a female hero.
The biggest shortcut I’ve taken, for the time being, has been to presume that women tend to want the same things men do: validation of their work, good sex, success for their friends, failure for their rivals and for their mothers to quit bugging them to settle down. Hasn’t steered me wrong yet.
But for those of you who’ve read Too Close to Miss, particularly female readers: does Mara Cunningham strike you as feminine? Not feminine enough? Too feminine (or perhaps too fake in her femininity)? Let me know, and be honest.
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* Nothing creeps me out more than older male writers who write young female characters as an excuse to leer. Rupert Holmes’s Where The Truth Lies is a particular offender, with the perky female protagonist taking every opportunity she can to examine her firm body. Thanks for making it clear who this novel’s for, Rupert.
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Sylvia |
I don’t consider Mara to be particularly feminine. I feel like femininity is something that comes as you mature, and Mara is still more of a tomboy girl than a woman. She’s definitely an adult, she doesn’t act like a kid. But when it comes to her self, she seems a tiny bit too insecure to really embrace that weird thing that is being feminine.
Nikki |
I will say that having Mara be a self defense instructor allowed me to give her more leeway with being typically feminine than I afford to most female protagonists. The one scene that really made me question her was when the bailiff was seemingly getting ready to rape her when she was tied to the bed in Amherst. The way she described the situation, his actions, and particularly how she would rather be killed first and violated second instead of the other way around struck me as odd. I have no doubt that someone like Mara would fight like hell but her internal monologue was too devoid of emotion for me. There was no fear, even for a moment and I found it particularly strange that she described the balliff’s hands under her sweatshirt as fooling around.
Claire |
The only thing from the first book that struck me was when she giggled and acted dumb. It read as a bit false to me, not b/c I haven’t seen women do it, but b/c I didn’t think she would, or if she would, there would be more self-awareness in her language in describing it. Or I could be totally overthinking that.
To go to a store hungover? Hair in a messy topknot, sweatshirt, and jeans or yoga pants. No makeup. Maybe I’m describing too many of my Saturday mornings…
PV Lundqvist |
Knowing that you’re a guy will make your female protagonist more scrutinized. Especially to a female readership.
I thought Mara was convincing, but my experience is similar to yours: never been one, just known them.
BTW: Plenty of women hang their jeans in the closet. Now underwear, on the other hand…
Maybe your next book should be about Martians? Let them come down here and say you didn’t get the details right.
Lindsay |
Professor, just an FYI: My jeans hang in the closet. Always have, probably always will. Unless the Feminine Police come for me.
I liked Mara fine. My only real comment — and I believe I mentioned this to you early on — is that I found her first encounter with a perp to be slightly unbelievable. I get that she’s not a waif, nor is she chubby, but I couldn’t wrap my head around how she was able to fight off the guy with the knife. Of course, she’s studied self-defense in a very specific way, whereas I haven’t.
Andrea Harris |
Gosh, I didn’t know jeans hanging in the closet wasn’t a girl thing to do. Guess I fail again at being a female! *looks for fucks to give. Can’t find any*
Anyway, why would anyone stuff their jeans in the dresser? Jeans are bulky and take up a lot of space when folded.
Andrea Harris |
One more thing: I haven’t worn a bra in about a year now. Even my comfortable ones started making me feel as if I couldn’t breathe and that I had a tight elastic band around my chest. (And yes, I measured and made sure I was wearing the right size.) Finally I just quit wearing them. Instead I wear tank tops from Walmart. They’re comfy and they preserve my modesty. I suppose if I actually had large bewbs I’d have a problem but fortunately I am underendowed in those particular ladyparts.
Perich |
The women of America: DIVIDED ON THE JEANS THING. Good to know.
Andrea Harris |
We shall go on to the end of the clothes rack.
We shall fight them in the department stores and the teenage girl’s bedroom.
We shall fight in growing confidence and in the continuing strength of our dresser drawers that will not have been strained by being stuffed with thick, stiff, hard to fold denim, and we shall defend our practice of hanging our jeans on the hanger.
We shall fight them in the hallway. We shall fight them in the laundry. We shall fight them in the walk-in closet. We shall never surrender.
Lindsay |
It’s nice to know that I’m not alone wrt to jeans hanging in the closet. Really, the only items of clothing that belong in a drawer are gym clothes, PJs, and underwear. Anything else that might need to be ironed after it’s been folded shouldn’t get put away!