Old Farts and Romance Fiction

Oliver and I continued to stand just inside the back door, our hands on each other’s waist. We looked into the eyes whose language we’d learned decades ago, the faces we’d come to adore. In a way, we were oblivious of the changes age had wrought. In a more significant way, we treasured those changes.

Not even Elizabeth Barrett Browning could've defined the scope of our love. Those electric melty tingles still hit us, although they’d moderated over the years. We didn’t mind too much. The keen thrill of skin pressed to skin had mellowed into the deeper gratification of heart bonded to heart.   

Ned Surwicki and Oliver Duncan are sixty years old at the end of my novella Electric Melty Tingles. They paid plenty of dues to be able to reach their golden years together. It's one of the reasons I love this couple, and their story, dearly.

BUT . . . do older characters generally get short shrift in romance fiction? Is this especially the case in m/m romance? If so, why? And what about older writers? Do they quail from divulging their ages or posting current photos of themselves for fear of losing credibility or making readers recoil? Is this particularly true of female authors? Has the Culture of Youth dictated our standards for fictional depictions of love and sex, as well as the people who write about them?

Many of us who create m/m romances, even of the erotic variety, are over fifty. Or sixty. Or seventy. The braver in our ranks have written older protagonists into their stories (and I mean "older" from the first sentence to the last, which takes considerable courage) and have even been forthcoming about their own ages. So, in an attempt to answer the questions I posed above, I've invited some of my peers to offer their opinions and share their experiences. They are indisputably talented authors -- male and female, gay and straight -- who, like me, ain't no spring chickens.

Stay tuned for the exact date of the post (or series of posts). This should be an interesting discussion.