Emma Barry is a teacher, novelist, recovering academic, and former political staffer. She lives with her high school sweetheart and a menagerie of pets and children in Virginia, and she occasionally finds time to read and write.
There were a lot of things in my head when I started writing Special Interests: a scene involving a boy giving a girl references so she’ll go out with him; Bob Woodward’s book about the 2008/2009 economic crisis, The Price of Politics; and the movie (500) Days of Summer.
I did not, for the record, hate the latter as much as many people did. (And I am going to spoil it in what follows. You’ve been warned.)
For starters, my own relationship to hipsterism is complicated. For a long time, I thought it was a word that Allen Ginsberg uses early in “Howl” and nothing more. Then one day in about 2006 I realized that it was a thing–a real, contemporary thing–and many of my friends demonstrated symptoms. Not in a bad way. Not in a pretentious way. But in an “Have you heard the new Wilco album?” “are you coming to my urban canning party?” “you did NOT just use a paper towel” way.
I wrote Special Interests because I had to, specifically because I had to get a scene out of my head. In almost an act of exorcism, I wrote it down and put it away.
It didn’t work.
But why are they acting like that? I asked myself. So I figured out the characters’ previous interactions, and their backstories, and then what happened next. I’m being intentionally vague because that first scene is essentially chapter 10 (the dialogue changed very little). From that odd little scene, the book grew.
I was at the Goddess Fish release party yesterday withsometeasers. I’ll update this post throughout the week should any more coverage appear. But in the meantime, I’m excited and nervous and apprehensive and thrilled it’s finally out.
Mostly, though, I’m grateful to the people who supported me when I was writing the book, who took it seriously and helped me make it better, and who have told me they want to read it. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
Special Interests isn’t autobiographical, but it is deeply personal. If you do pick it up–no pressure!–I hope you’ll like it.
ETA: So I’d been linking to reviews, etc. here and–surprise!–it created trackblogs on those blogs. Oops. Technological stupidity strikes again! I deleted those links because I didn’t want to mess with reader-only spaces or to seem like I was censoring them in any way. I love reviews–any and all reviews–and definitely don’t want to meddle. I’ve contacted the blogs and asked them to delete the trackbacks. But in the meantime, just pretend I was never there. ; )
Leading up to the release of my contemporary political romance novel, Special Interests (which will be out on Monday!), I want to use fine romance Friday to feature some of my favorite on-screen political romances. Today’s selection is Dave.
Ivan Reitman’s 1993 romantic comedy is cinematic wish fulfillment–for who amongst us has not watched the political process and said, “I could do better than that”? And in tonight’s fine romance, Dave Kovic gets his shot.
The premise: non-profit director and all around good guy Dave Kovic (Kevin Kline) bears a striking resemblance to the sitting president, Bill Mitchell (also Kevin Kline). So much so that when Mitchell wants to conduct a sordid affair, the Secret Service enlists Kovic to help cover it up by making a public appearance in place of the president. But when Mitchell suffers a stroke during said affair, his staff (Frank Langella, Kevin Dunn) decide to use Dave as a puppet in order to enact their own agenda.
This set up bears more than surpassing resemblance to Mr. Smith Goes to Washington and, as in that film, Dave just won’t stick to the script: he keeps having warm, funny interactions with people, he gets an accountant friend to help him “fix” the federal budget, and he falls for the first lady (Sigourney Weaver).
I find it more than a little sad that most of the older film and television representations of American politics are hopeful (Mr. Smith, The American President, Dave, The West Wing): while some people act in bad faith in all of these cases, the overarching message is that good things can happen in government. Newer representations (Scandal, House of Cards, Veep) seem much more skeptical. (And some older versions are as well, see Advise and Consent or All the King’s Men.) It’s a small sample size, so I don’t want to draw too many conclusions, but I don’t think we’re nearly as hopeful today about politics as we were when Dave was produced.
Skepticism and idealism come and go. I’ve written before about trying to balance a realistic take on the system with one that doesn’t make us feel disempowered. But the well-earned contempt that Americans have for their government makes me sad.
But I digress!
Dave is a funny, clever film and a hopeful, sweet romance–and you can’t really wish for more than that.
I hate electoral politics and think politicians and staffers are all creeps. Should I read Special Interests?
I’ve written before about politics in romance novels, about how I think all romance novels are political but some politics announce themselves while others hide in plain sight. So if you read romance, I would say you’re already reading political books.
But…the politics in Special Interests aren’t hidden, not even a little. The hero, Parker, is a senior aide to an important senator; the heroine, Millie, works for a construction union. The book revolves around a budget negotiation. It is very much about the American political process–good, bad, and indifferent.
Further, it’s partisan. Millie and Parker are both liberal Democrats, though being members of the same party doesn’t help them. They argue about politics and their different orientations toward the political process, and what these differences mean about their personalities, are at the heart of the conflict in the book.
Despite all that, I don’t think it’s a partisan book. There are characters in the book who are “bad” (broadly speaking) who agree with our hero and heroine politically. There are characters in the book who are “good” (again broadly speaking) who are conservative. I don’t want to spoil the end of the budget subplot, but it isn’t achieved at anyone’s expense. It isn’t about demonizing or lionizing either party.
The next book in the series isn’t partisan at all and is in general less overtly political. The third book is going to feature a cross-party romance. Things worked out the way they did in Special Interests because it felt like the truest representation of the characters and the place, not because I have any sort of agenda. Most importantly, I don’t think that one’s enjoyment of the book is contingent on agreeing with the characters.
So should you read the book if you think Washington is a cesspool of corruption? Only you can answer that. If anything to do with laws and politics raises your blood pressure, probably not. (Though in light of all the discussion about online reviewing and author backlash, let me say that if you don’t like the book–either because of politics or anything else–I totally support your right to review it honestly however and wherever you want. Reviews are for readers not writers. While bad reviews are unpleasant, I’ll live and I won’t harass you about it. Promise.)
But if you want a (I hope!) witty, sexy, honest portrait of young DC staffers trying to make the federal budget and love work, I think Special Interests is for you.
In the weeks before the release of my political romance Special Interests, I want to use fine romance Friday to feature some of my favorite on-screen political romances. Today, I consider The American President.
Rob Reiner’s 1995 romantic comedy The American President is one of my all-time favorite movies. And when you read Special Interests (because you’re going to read it, right?), this devotion will show. It is very clearly writer Aaron Sorkin’s warm-up for his television series, The West Wing, but in some ways, the film works better. The extent to which The American President colored my vision of how the American government works, my interest in the political process, and my decision to move to Washington right after college can’t be overstated. And it is more than surpassing embarrassing. I made a very serious life decision because, in part, I liked a movie.
The only point in my favor is that the movie in question does hold up.
Given its popularity on cable TV, I think the odds are good that you’ve seen it, but if not: the widowed Democratic president (Michael Douglas) meets and then pursues a feisty environmental lobbyist (Annette Bening), much to the horror of his staff (including Michael J. Fox, Martin Sheen, and Anna Deavere Smith) and the glee of his Republican opponent (Richard Dreyfuss).
The romance in the film plays out against the backdrop of an election in which two of the major issues are a proposed ban on assault weapons and a limit on carbon emissions (for those playing along at home, there’s been no movement on either of those issues since the mid-90s and arguably regression; but let’s not get distracted).
It’s a face paced, smart, and ultimately very funny film that wears it’s idealistic heart on its sleeve. It’s less smarmy than The West Wing, which could be terrific but also condescending and proscriptive. It has that high gloss of mainstream 90s movies, but also intelligence and soul.
As I’ve written about before, The American President uses overt, electoral politics as a metaphor for implicit, private politics. Most of us won’t ever date a president or even a politician, but many women will navigate relationships with men who have more money, higher status jobs, and myriad responsibilities. We might come to The American President for the novelty factor–the what if?–but we stay because the journey feels honest if not realistic.
Regardless, you have to love a film in which the first thing the hero hears the heroine saying is that he’s delusional and which ends at the State of the Union. Tonight, for me, it’s The American President.
Since some reviewers have gotten their hands on Special Interests (and if you’re a reviewer, you can too; check NetGalley!), I thought it was only fair to post the opening chapter for non-reviewer consumption. Follow me below the fold…
In exactly one month my political romance Special Interests will be released! Until then, I want use fine romance Friday to feature some of my favorite on-screen political romances. First up is Mr. Smith Goes to Washington.
Frank Capra’s 1939 political confection is famous for many things: its contribution to “Hollywood’s greatest year,” its idealistic and appealing take on American patriotism, and its sequence in which the titular Mr. Smith stages a filibuster on the floor of the US Senate. But I’d offer that it’s also successful as a romance.
First the set up! The governor of an unnamed state taps Boy Ranger-leader Jefferson Smith (Jimmy Stewart) to fill a sudden Senate vacancy. (The state is unnamed, but I think it’s supposed to be Missouri.) In Washington, now-Senator Smith is shown the ropes by his only staffer, the tough-talking, smart, and completely cynical Saunders (Jean Arthur).
Smith falls under the spell of his state’s senior senator (Claude Rains) and his pretty, worldly daughter (Astrid Allwyn), which is precisely what the governor intended. However, Smith, who believes deeply in a fairy tale version of American governance, doesn’t follow the rules and introduces a bill to create a national boy’s camp in his state–putting him in the cross-hairs of the state’s political machine. When he won’t pull the bill, they accuse him of corruption and Smith finds himself fighting for his career.
The key to Smith’s success is Saunders. The sweet romance that develops between them is gang busters. In terms of tropes, it’s opposites-attract and workplace-set, but I like it as a very rare example of an innocent, idealistic hero paired with a tough, sardonic heroine. For all his dewy platitudes about country, Smith doesn’t know how to get things done, but Saunders does.
Mr. Smith Goes to Washington might not be a terribly accurate take on government, then or now, but I do love the movie and cry during the Lincoln memorial scene every time. The 1930s footage of Washington is also terrific.
Until you can read Special Interests, this is one political romance worth a rewatch!
So it’s snowing here. And snowing in DC. And thus you get the very first teaser from Special Interests.
“Man, you need to get it together. This negotiation is killing your mojo. If this drags on much longer, you’re going to need professional help,” Jim chided, apparently having overheard.
Parker sent him a dark look. “Did I ask you?”
“I can’t believe you asked anyone. Parker Beckett? Soliciting dating advice? It’s like a DC blizzard. I’ve seen it, but I don’t really believe it. Afterward, it was all hazy and fictional.”
Parker tried to change the subject. “Did you end up talking to Liz Wallace again after I left last night?”
“No, I didn’t. But to be clear, are you still seeing the labor girl?”
“Her name is Millie. And yes.”
More teasers soon. In the meantime, you can pre-order it on Amazon or add it to your Goodreads shelves.
This entire series began as a discussion of why religion was never mentioned in non-inspirational romance, but we quickly decided “never” was too strong a word—people of faith do occasionally appear in genre romance. But what purpose are these people of faith serving in genre romance in the absence of a larger conversion narrative?
So let us count the ways in which it’s acceptable to represent religion in genre romance!
Emma Barry 