It’s been a while since I wrote an op-ed and I thought I’d start off with an uplifting topic: depression. There appear to be several taboo topics in romance novels. One of these is depression. If we assume it is something we are all likely to experience at some point in our lives, to one extreme or another, it surprises me that it is not an issue which romance authors are prepared to tackle. I’ve read romances in which characters have to contend with sexual abuse, rape, physical violence, poverty, grief, and a whole slew of other weighty problems. Yet I can’t recall a single romance in which the hero or heroine suffered from depression.
I’ve read several romances over the past couple of years in which one of the main characters had Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Numerous romantic suspense novels feature heroines with PTSD, most recently Lily Fletcher in Black at Heart by Leslie Parrish and Isabelle Markham in Stephanie Tyler’s Hard to Hold. A couple of contemporary romances spring to mind which have heroes suffering from PTSD, usually ex-military. Some examples: Rick in Robyn Carr’s Paradise Valley and Mitch in Susan Mallery’s Lip Service. And there are many, many more.
After reading about the fifth book featuring PTSD, it struck me that using PTSD instead of other forms of anxiety/depression is sort of a cop out. In the romance novel interpretation of PTSD, it has an identifiable cause (i.e.: a traumatic event) and this cause is wholly external (i.e.: the character is not “abnormal” or a “freak”). PTSD permits a military hero to show some vulnerability without appearing weak. A heroine with PTSD is allowed to be nervy and anxious without running the risk of being considered pathetic.
For some bizarre reason, the PTSD sufferers in these stories seem to undergo a full recovery by the end of the book. Love conquers all, I suppose. The conclusion I can draw from this is that PTSD is a form of depression which not only has a cause beyond the sufferer’s control, but it is also something which can be resolved quickly. While this might fit neatly into the parameters of a romance novel, it’s a little too pat for my liking.
I’m not saying I want to pick up a romance novel and be confronted with a “watch-me- while-I- self-mutilate-and-contemplate-suicide” type of story. I had my fill of that with Elizabeth Wurtzel’s self-absorbed whining in A Prozac Nation. I’m talking about a story which focuses on the sort of character who is largely ignored and immediately dismissed as dislikeable because they languish on the sofa and require smelling salts. Wouldn’t it be interesting to find out why they are way they are? Don’t they also deserve a HEA? Or what about a romance in which the hero is moody because he suffers from depression? There are so many romances in which the hero is of the brooding persuasion, yet he’s never described as a depressive. I would love to read a story in which a hero or heroine struggled with an eating disorder, or some other psychological disorder which has no convenient cure, but is something one can learn to control.
Two of the most compelling characters on television in recent years were Tony Soprano, a depressed mobster, and Alma Garret, the upper-class laudanum addict in the Western series, Deadwood. Love him or loathe him, Tony Soprano is fascinatingly complex. His panic attacks and nightmares are not written off as manifestations of a traumatic event. Tony is depressed. He’s depressed at the start of the series and he is still depressed at the end. Alma Garret starts out as a highly-strung society wife who takes laudanum to ease her nerves. Over the course of the series, Alma struggles to overcome her addiction, never quite free of it even when she is officially “clean”.
Admittedly, neither Tony nor Alma found a HEA but I’m certain characters such as these could be successfully integrated into the context of a romance novel and provided with a convincing and realistic happy ending. I noticed Carrie Lofty has a historical romance out in January 2010 which will feature an opium addict heroine. It’s called A Scoundrel’s Kiss and it’s the sequel to last year’s What a Scoundrel Wants. I’m very curious to see how she handles the issue. (ETA: I just saw that Katiebabs has posted a glowing review of A Scoundrel’s Kiss on her blog. I want!) .
Would you like to read romances featuring depressed characters? (Provided, of course, that the ending was uplifting.) Can you think of any romances in which the hero or heroine suffers from anxiety or depression, excluding PTSD? Janet W. provided me with a couple of Mary Balogh titles: Silent Melody and Thief of Dreams.
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The challenge is a non-depressing book about depression. I’d love to read that, but I’m guessing it would be hard to pull off.
I would be really interested in reading it, but I think it would be a little bit of a minefield, and probably difficult to provide the 100% positive believable HEA sunshine and butterflies ending that is required by most.
PS. I am a bit tired, but meant to add (still no edit button!
) that I think forms of depression to pop up in some books, but it is never quite labelled as that. IYKWIM
- I also think it is also problematic in that, even today I think a large percentage of the population do not see it as a “real” problem-illness, not a general understanding that could be easily referenced with shorthand symptoms like PTSD. Does that make sense?
I think the reason depression isn’t mentioned more in romances is because the authors know people read them to escape…
@Magdalen: I’m sure it would be a challenge but romance authors have written about other serious issues and still provided their characters with a convincing happy ending.
@Edie: I’m baffled by the absent edit button. I can see one when I log out and visit as a regular visitor. One possibility is that it’s set to switch off too soon (i.e: you can only edit your comment within a few minutes of posting it). I’ll see if I can extend that.
@Colette A Buckeye Girl Reads: Absolutely. I just wonder why authors – and readers – are willing to embrace the PTSD scenario. Because it doesn’t use either the word “depression” or “anxiety”?
I’m thinking execution of such a storyline would be tricky. How many times have we read a book where one of the characters is “wallowing” about something or other, we get frustrated with them, and just want to scream, “Oh get over it already!” Right or wrong – I think we’ve all been there.
Depression, while a prevalent issue, is still a largely misunderstood one. There’s still that stigma attached to it. While with PTSD, there’s a “cause” that the reader can wrap their mind around. The hero went to war. The heroine witnessed a terrible crime. Something. Depression doesn’t have the same sort of “trigger” and it’s harder to “understand.”
I’m not saying it couldn’t be done – just that it would take a skilled author to pull it off. Just like most PTSD storylines. I tend to like this particular plot device, but do get highly annoyed when the PTSD character is magically “cured” in the final chapter and ahhhhh, all it took was twu wuv. Gag. But when it author gets it “right?” Very powerful.
I wish I had some book suggestions
Although I want to add that I’m insanely looking forward to the new Carrie Lofty book.
The hero of Laura Kinsales FLOWERS FROM THE STORM definitely qualifies as depressed, and his “rescue” by the heroine is beautifully handled, given the constraints of the novel format.
Those contraints, I suspect are both the reason you feel dissatisfied with the way PTSD is handled and why mental illness is rarely used in romance fiction. Unlike a TV series, where the author(s) have months and even years to resolve a character’s addiction or illness, romance readers expect to have at least some sense the afflicted individual is close to normality by the end of the book–and there just isn’t time.
Addiction is slightly more amenable to the format if the addict starts out with the will to recover. But if the idea is to get the hero and heroine together for that HEA, the psychological factors are going to be a major problem unless they are, as with the current crop of PTSD sufferers, “cured” as if by a miracle by the last page.
For that reason, I suppose, having a mental illness in a romance novel will revolve around the question of how much the readers are willing to suspend disbelief and accept that said illness can be made better in the space of 200 pages.
@Wendy: I just saw Katiebabs posted a glowing advance review of the new Carrie Lofty book. I’ll add the link to my post.
@Elizabeth Burton: I need to re-read Flowers from the Storm!
Your point about the constraints of the novel format affecting my view of the PTSD storyline is probably accurate. I know it wouldn’t be easy for an author to make a depressive character work, but I’d love to see one try. If Jennifer Ashley can write a convincing autistic (Asperger’s?) hero in The Madness of Lord Ian Mackenzie, I’m sure it can be done.
Hmmm. Honestly, I’m not sure I really do want to read a romance with a depressive heroine or one with an eating disorder. I think it would be very tough to make the happy ending believable and not too pat. In some ways I think the manifestations of depression are somewhat antithetical to what I want in a romance protagonist.
If you start off with the presumption that the depressive character must be “cured” to fall in love, well, there are a lot of pitfalls in that path. Not that it can’t be done, but it would take a great writer.
With the Aspergers, first of all I think that’s an incredibly unique book. Secondly, it is presented as integral to the hero; to who he is. The author found ways to show the strengths that Aspergers’ can result in (attention to detail) and that common problems of the syndrome (difficulty in relating to people) were either not at particular issue or something that was surmountable within the book.
I have that sort of character in Crash Into Me, a teenager acting out after the death of her mother. I wouldn’t say she languishes, but she’s definitely got issues! There is a romance subplot featuring her and a boy from the wrong side of the tracks.
Sorry to recommend myself. I don’t usually, but since you asked…
This is a tough one, depression is prevalent quite a bit in today’s society, but could be tricky to infuse into a romance book. I usually read romance for the fantasy, I even steer away from contemps because I’m drawn to the fantasy aspect of UF, PNR, or erotica. Although I dare say I would instantly buy a book with a depressed demon looking for love {looks at Kresley Cole}. I think you brought up a great point that romance books will touch on rape, but not on depression…perhaps it’s a marketing issue.
Great Post!!!
As a depression sufferer, the last thing I want to do is wallow in the head of another one, so I can understand authors not writing it and readers not wanting to read it. (Though I have just finished reading the most staggeringly wonderful free m/m novels in the ‘Infected’ series here http://www.fictionpress.com/u/77207/notmanos where the main character is both severely and chronically depressed – and addicted to prescription drugs to boot – and it affected my enjoyment not one whit!)
Having said that, I often have characters who suffer bouts of clinical depression (such as Jerna in “Remastering Jerna”), and I like to think I am realistic about the time frames. My form of the illness is chronic, but not everyone’s is – some people go through a specific period of depression, which can be effectively dealt with by pills and/or therapy. A lot of people are mildly but chronically depressed and manage to have productive lives with minimum assistance. My illness has at times gone from barely there to crippling, but I am never completely free of it, except on heavy medication, which brings its own problems. Because of the variability of depression, there is the possibility of incorporating it successfully into a plot and bringing it to a happy ending, without it being a ‘depressing’ experience for all concerned.
Poorly handled PTSD is insulting to sufferers, and yet there’s no need for the magical cure to have a HEA – PTSD can be treated, and does, for some people, slowly retreat, and so long as the author shows a realistic process whereby the sufferer improves and can continue to improve, I don’t see why they needed to be fully recovered for the romantic ending to be credible (same for depression, in fact.) That’s how I handled a sufferer of PTSD in my free novel, ‘Staying Power’ – the flashbacks and effects remained, but he and his lover were learning how to deal with it together.
What an interesting post! And interesting comments. I agree with Ann that there’s an innate concern about ‘getting it right’ in a way that’s not insulting to sufferers. I have a close family member (in-law) who has had several major breakdowns. She is someone who – on good form – is great. Fun and interesting and with a terrific sense of humour. When she is depressed, she is very very hard. And for me, that is the difficult thing about depicting depression. It’s linked to your intrinsic personality. It’s an illness, it’s involuntary, but it’s also *you* in a way that a physical ailment isn’t. There’s a disconnect between a physical ailment and the person that makes it easy to depict. The nuances of a depressive illness and the thin, meandering lines between the illness and the person make that very very difficult to execute in a way that’s fair to the sufferer. I can’t help but think you might have to been a sufferer to do that well.
The very best “explanation” of depression in fiction, I think, is JK Rowling’s description of Dementors in the Harry Potter books. I can’t do it justice in this paraphrase, but something to the effect that when they came near you, they sucked all the color and joy out of the world. I believe she may have been writing from experience.
PTSD is a dissociative disorder, which is very different from depression. They’re not mutually exclusive, obviously — some people with dissociative disorders (this includes multiple personalities, e.g., “Sybil,” although that’s now called Dissociative Identity Disorder) do get depressed (usually situational depression as opposed to chronic depression). One estimate I read in The Economist suggests as many as 30 million people in America may be suffering from some form of dissociative disorder.
[I'm sorry to sound like I'm quoting from the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, but I have a dissociative disorder (not multiple personalities, though). As with so many health problems, we learn a lot about them while we're dealing with their effects.]
As you say, Sarah, dissociative disorders are usually the result of trauma (war, rape, childhood abuse, etc.) and that makes the “sufferer” more sympathetic. That’s actually unfair to people with depression, which can arise from a number of situations, including nothing more obvious than crossed wires in the brain. I have a great deal of sympathy for those with chronic depression; think of the bad old days when people were told they were just “blue” or “sad” and that they simply needed to “look on the bright side” or “cheer up.” How much worse chronic depression must be when you can’t even get people to understand that it’s not a question of mind over matter…
When I think about romances, though, I think it’s hard to make the mental illness serve the story, as well as to avoid dumping a lot of facts & data on the reader. I’m glad some authors have taken up the challenge. I haven’t read “Ian Mackenzie” yet — it’s in the mail — but it’s nice to see authors working to explain dissociative disorders and autism through fiction.
I still think it’s a tough row to hoe: I once started writing a romance and got halfway through the second chapter when I realized my heroine was clinically depressed. She didn’t need a romance; she needed some combination of psychopharmaceuticals and maybe a good therapist. I stopped writing about her; she had enough on her plate without my tender mercies…
@Nicola O.:
It would indeed! I’d still love to see someone try.
@Jill Sorenson: Recommend away! I think, though, that readers are more likely to accept depression in a teenage heroine than in an adult. Moodiness is seen as being part of the adolescent experience, whereas adults are expected to have their emotions under control. It’s not fair, but it’s the way it is.
@K.C. (Smokin Hot Books): Maybe it is a marketing issue. Depression is more difficult to find a neat resolution and a convincing HEA.
I’ve noticed trauma caused by rape/sexual abuse tends to be miraculously “cured” by hot sex with the hero/heroine. I suppose this is a convenient solution in a romance!
@Ann Somerville: Thank you for your honesty.
I see what you mean about the severity and type of depression playing a huge role in making a credible HEA. For example, I could imagine postnatal depression working in the context of a romance. In similarity to PTSD, it usually has an end in sight.
@Tumperkin: The fear of not getting it right is undoubtedly a deterrent for authors. I’d imagine it would be a pretty tough sell, too.
I KNOW there is a Mary Balogh Christmas short story where a previously fun loving girl comes back to the place where she fell in love — her former love is now a widower. She’s pale and quiet and wan — maybe depressed? But I can’t find name of short story! I think the hero of the latest Jo Beverley Rogue book was depressed sort of too: Cave? What a GREAT blog Sarah: thank you!! I hate perfect happiness after shagging too … that is not my impression at all of depression. Plus a lot of pills for depression depress the sex drive. It takes a talented author!!
As someone who actually has Asperger’s, I don’t think Ian Mackenzie was convincing. At all. But I’m aware that the vast majority of people who’ve read the book don’t have Asperger’s themselves, and know that many people who are related to or friends with people who have Asperger’s enjoyed it. My main problem with it, I think, is that it’s written from the perspective of someone on the outside looking in. As someone on the inside, I didn’t think she nailed what it’s like. At all. But that’s just me, and I’m just grumpy because I’m sick of hearing about how wonderful the depiction was.
Which brings me to one point I was going to make about depression, but Ann and Tumperkin got to before me: getting it right. I’ve been dealing with severe depression for most of my life, and unless it was handled wonderfully, I’d probably have issues with it. Mental illness is an incredibly complex issue with a lot of frustrating social issues still attached to it, and I have to wonder if an author would be able to understand all of them if s/he’d never been depressed. Being depressed isn’t just about languishing and being broody, and I’m afraid that an author would go there.
While I’d love to see more mental illness in romance, if handled well, what I’d prefer would be better handling of it when it already exists. I will never read another book by a certain Presents author again, and am rather ticked with the editors of the line, because I recently read a book of hers (the second in a trilogy) in which a bipolar parent was referred to as “weak”. Bipolar parents? NOT FUN. Hellish, even, and I speak from personal experience here. But, as I said earlier, mental illness is a complex issue. I decided to give the author the benefit of the doubt–since the “weak” comment was inserted in such a way that I couldn’t say it was directly about the parent’s mental illness, even though the implication was clear–and started the final book in the trilogy, only to throw the book at the wall when the tone went bad again and, finally, the depressed heroine said something along the lines of “As if pills could solve my problems!” Your character doesn’t want to take pills? That’s fine, if you know what you’re doing. But if you have the heroine say something like that in the middle of a chapter that has a very negative tone towards mental illness, especially after the bipolar parent in the last book, I stop reading. Antidepressants aren’t about solving problems, they’re about getting you to a point where you can deal with your problems yourself. People who are bipolar and have screwed-up lives because of it aren’t necessarily weak, they’re suffering from something they can’t control and don’t usually enjoy. Bad depictions of mental illness are way worse than a lack of mental illness, imo.
I think I’ll talk about this here, because most people probably won’t want to discuss the nitty-gritty of portraying addiction. It’s just too depressing for romance! In fact, I was told that to talk about it in advance of my release would be akin to shooting my career in the foot.
OK, so I don’t think I’d be able to take on a book about depression, because I have never been depressed. However, I do consider myself an alcoholic who never hit bottom. I’ve seen it happen enough times to people very close to me to know what it looks like, how it feels, the rationalizations that come with it, the struggle–and I realized several years ago that I didn’t want to put my girls through that. It’s a self-awareness that loved ones have given to me. A priceless gift.
So when I wrote Scoundrel’s Kiss–thanks for the mention, ladies!–I was doing so from a place of deep knowledge. All I wanted, through the whole ordeal of writing it, was to pull it off. Ada’s struggle is one replete with setbacks and justifications. It’s not a straight line of addicted, meets hero, happy! But I like to think that the hope she and the hero have in the last scene leads readers to believe in their future. They may encounter additional setbacks in the future, but they’re strong enough to overcome them together. That’s all I need from an HEA.
All right, I’ve taken up enough time. Just know that I sympathize with you from both a reader’s and a writer’s perspective. Some shortcuts we take are because it makes for a dramatic story…without all the tricky baggage. But I would very dearly like to see more authors take the chance to say powerful things with their romance. Perhaps the reason they don’t is because we’re forced to talk about our experiences in the comments section of a private blog, hoping Management doesn’t get wind of our being too honest.
Great post! Thank you.
Laura Kinsale is my go-to author for writing about depression (and PTSD, especially in SEIZE THE FIRE).
@Janet W: Was it one of Balogh’s Christmas novellas? It rings a bell. I have a number of them on my shelves. I’ll have a look and see if any or the one you’re referring to.
@Niveau: Thanks for adding your perspective on Lord Ian. Jennifer Ashley’s depiction of Asperger’s fits with what I imagine it to be, but I have no first-hand knowledge of it.
I used “depression” as an all-encompassing word for everything from the occasional mood slump to something much more serious. I agree with you that it would be very difficult to provide a credible HEA for a character who suffered from severe mental illness.
@Carrie Lofty: Thank you so much for commenting! One thing I noticed about A Scoundrel’s Kiss is that the blurb doesn’t explicitly mention Ada’s addiction. I knew she was an addict from her role in What a Scoundrel Wants. I’m assuming this was a marketing decision.
I’d love to see more romances which tackle difficult issues and still provide the couple with a HEA. I’ve noticed more and more romances which push the envelope in this regard, but depression doesn’t seem to among the problems dealt with.
@Victoria Janssen: I need to go on a Laura Kinsale re-reading spree. I’ve read several of her books but many years ago. I don’t think I have Seize the Fire.
I see there are a number of books I must track down and/or read for the first time! @carrielofty, thanks for your honesty. Blanking out on title but I just finished a touching memoir called “Mommy Doesn’t Drink Here Anymore” — an alcoholic who never touched bottom but whose life was very affected by her drinking: it’s the story of her first year of sobriety. Honestly, reading it, one wonders how that particular journey — so unique to each individual and such an all-consuming battle — could be conveyed in a romance. Maybe years later — Roberts occasionally has characters who are matter of fact former drinkers.
And of course, depression is often a silent partner in other struggles and the addictions are in part (not to generalize) an attempt to put a bandaid on a wound. Again, Sarah, thank you for this post!
After reading about the fifth book featuring PTSD, it struck me that using PTSD instead of other forms of anxiety/depression is sort of a cop out.
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Agreed.
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I noticed Carrie Lofty has a historical romance out in January 2010 which will feature an opium addict heroine. It’s called A Scoundrel’s Kiss and it’s the sequel to last year’s What a Scoundrel Wants. I’m very curious to see how she handles the issue.
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HeroinE in a romance novel?! Nice one. I’ll certainly check it out.
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Would you like to read romances featuring depressed characters? (Provided, of course, that the ending was uplifting.)
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Like with everything else, it depends on the overall story. If depression is part of it, so be it.
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Can you think of any romances in which the hero or heroine suffers from anxiety or depression, excluding PTSD?
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I came across some category romances featuring post-natal depression over years, but I can’t recall titles and authors’ names. Mostly Loveswept and Superromance.
Oh, Sandra Canfield wrote the one with the hero as a police officer who was feeling depressed – driven by guilt – after (if my memory is right) his male partner was sexually assaulted. I think the title is Dark Journey? Or Tigers by Night? I can’t remember, sorry. Her books are usually good, so any will do!
Quite a few of Megan Chance’s books feature depression – off my head: The Way Home and After the Frost. In The Portrait, the hero had a bi-polar disorder (which is never named in the actual story). Meagan McKinney’s books as well, but I’d not read them as – even though they are historicals – some are seriously dated. I think her romantic suspense novel revolves around the heroine’s reaction to her sister’s murder? I think it’s A Man to Slay Dragons?
A couple of Theresa Weir’s books feature depression and anxiety as well. In Loving Jenny, the heroine had issues including depression (not portrayed in the story, I think). Hero of Cool Shade suffered from a phobia and a long-term anxiety disorder, I think.
In one of Anne Stuart’s category romances, the heroine suffered from depression badly enough to try and cut one of her wrists. The act wasn’t described, but the aftermath of the bathroom was. I think she also had another – probably Angel’s Wings (a 1930s-era romance). Marilyn Pappano’s category romances feature it often, and a single title – I can’t remember if it was Suspicion or Passion, but one of them dealt with rape victim heroine’s depression.
It’s getting too long, but yeah, there were quite a few romance novels around, but nowadays? Not so much.
The reason I don’t write or would read a book with depresion in it is that it is to close to reality. I read to get away from every day reality. Most of us have more than enough in our lives as it is. There is always something that depreses us. From politics to ordinary business or family problems we have enough. I for one, only read books that have a happy ending. I read for the excitment of going places in books that I wouldn’t otherwise go. I, like most people I know read for entertainment.
I would like to second the mention of Megan Chance’s The Portrait. Because it’s set in the mid-1800s, the hero’s bi-polar disorder is never named but it’s clear he suffers from it and is not going to recover either. We see the heroine as helping to alleviate the depression side of the disorder by ensuring the hero is well taken care of (eating well, not drinking or drugging and getting outdoor exercise.) I would call the book’s ending an HFN rather than an HEA.
@JeanneTops: You remind me that Jules Jones’ m/m novel, Lord and Master, deals with one partner who is bipolar, and the other who accommodates that. It’s beautifully done, and doesn’t skate over the realities at all.
This is a great topic! Wonderful post, Sarah
I’ve read all the comments with interest and pleasure. I really haven’t much new to add. I wouldn’t mind to read about depression in a romance novel as long as it’s not depressing! So far I didn’t encounter depressed heroes or heroines in the romances I’ve read!
Janna
I tracked down the Mary Balogh Christmas short story with a depressed heroine — “The Best Christmas Ever”. I’d be interested if anyone would agree that this heroine is mildly depressed.
I read a Judith O’Brien book where the heroine was anorexic once. It was a YA novel, though.
@Janet W: Thanks for tracking down that Balogh story. I don’t think I’ve read it.
@Maili: Thanks for the book recs. I didn’t start reading American-style romances until the late 90s, and I had a very limited selection to choose from at first. Maybe there was more variety in topics covered in earlier romances, not just in settings.
@Angelo Thomas Crapanzano: I think this is why a book featuring depression would be hard to pull off, but probably no harder than one which deals with rape, alcohol abuse, etc.
@JeanneTops: I’ve never read Megan Chance! I must see if I can find a copy of The Portrait.
@Ann Somerville: Thanks for the Jules Jones recommendation.
@ErotRomReader: Thanks!
@heidenkind: Judith O’Brien…the name rings a bell. Thank you!
Carrie sure does handle Ada’s addiction pretty well and the aftermath of it.
What an interesting post! I’ve read about heroes having depression from war but I can’t think of too many many characters with depression. The Portrait maybe up your alley because the hero is very manic depressive. But after it ended, I felt things were still not resolved because the hero would always have his problem. But the love of his heroine will help him get through it.
Scoundrel’s Kiss is on its way to me. I’m really looking forward to reading it, especially after your review.
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