Book jackets promise young, sassy women in the big city taking on life and love. Too often, the heroines turn out to be whining, self-absorbed, neurotic characters who need to get over themselves and get on with life.

That's not the only thing wrong with "chick lit," as popular fiction targeted at women is often called. Its worst failing is the way it promotes, in book after book, disappointing examples of female characters.

Readers would do well to leave the chick lit behind and try a mystery.

In mysteries and thrillers with women as the main characters -- let's call the genre "chick myst" -- the heroines have realistic problems, like frustrating boyfriends, overbearing bosses and embarrassing families. But bad guys (or girls) will come into the plot at some point, so chick-myst writers tend to make sure their leading ladies have smarts, self-confidence and skills.

That makes them much more fun to read about.

One problem is that too many of the chicks in chick lit are mired in their bad decisions. The chick-myst women -- though certainly not perfect -- are more motivated to take action.

Take as an example a recent top chick lit-er, Laura Zigman. Her Animal Husbandry (Bantam, 304 pages, $13.95) is 295 pages (in paperback, minus the epilogue) of a character named Jane Goodall trying to get over her ex-boyfriend. She hides her heartbreak by coming up with scientific theories about why men don't stay with one woman, and she records these ideas in journals.

Jane says: "Writing in the notebook became the one thing I actually looked forward to at the end of the day, the one worthwhile thing I could funnel all my obsessive energy into and feel like I was producing something of note. Those notebooks, my database, would, in quite short order, become files -- case files -- which I filled with newspaper clippings, magazine articles, xeroxed pages from books, and anything else that helped explain why Ray dumped me."

Jane's emotions may be understandable, but that doesn't make this book a gripping read, or Jane an admirable character.

In comparison, in the first paragraph of chick-myst author Janet Evanovich's Hard Eight (St. Martin's Press, 320 pages, $25.95), Stephanie Plum, a bond-enforcement agent, reveals she's been rolling around on the ground with men lately.

"The rolling around is what happens when a bust goes crapola and there's a last ditch effort to hog-tie a big, dumb, bad guy possessing a congenitally defective frontal lobe," she says.

As the book progresses, Stephanie enlists the help of a sexy male bounty hunter; tracks down a missing woman and her daughter; fends off a couple of thugs, a bag of snakes and a big spider; and escapes the bad guys with help from her sister's well-timed driving through the wall of a house.

Another difference in genres: While chick-lit gals are obsessing over make-up and men, chick-myst heroines have much more interesting problems.

Back in chick lit, See Jane Date by Melissa Senate (283 pages, $12.95) was one of the first books in Harlequin's Red Dress Ink imprint. According to the Harlequin Web site, these books are "stories that reflect the lifestyles of today's urban, single women."

Jane is trying to get promoted at a publishing company, find the man of her dreams and cover a lie about having a boyfriend to take to her cousin's wedding. So off she goes, consulting the required group of dishing girlfriends and going on blind dates, seeking the man who will save her.

"I eyed my reflection, wondering what else I could possibly do to make myself attractive to [co-worker] Jeremy Black," Jane says in one part. Later, when Jane asks her friend if lying about having a boyfriend is pathetic, the friend says, "Try necessary!"

Compare that to chick-myst heroine Stephanie Plum, who, when her sister asks if she should wear pink heels or "retro Weitzmans" on a date, thinks, "I found a dead man sitting on my couch last night. I have couch cooties and Valerie needs me to make a shoe decision."

In O is for Outlaw (Henry Holt, 318 pages, $26), author Sue Grafton's private investigator and chick-myst staple, Kinsey Millhone, offers this take on fashion:

"I only own one dress. ... This entirely synthetic garment, guaranteed wrinkle-free (but probably flammable) is as versatile as anything I've owned. In it, I can accept invitations to all but the snootiest of cocktail parties, pose as a mourner at any funeral, make court appearances, conduct surveillance, hustle clients, interview hostile witnesses, traffic with known felons, or pass myself off as a gainfully employed person instead of a freelance busybody accustomed to blue jeans, turtlenecks, and tennis shoes."

It is more exciting when a heroine saves the day than when she saves face in front of her friends. It is more interesting when the character struggles for her life than when she struggles to make a good impression. And it is more empowering to read about women who take action than to follow those who take every opportunity to wallow in their difficulties.

As for romance, chick-myst writers manage to fit plenty amid the action, without subjecting the reader to the endless relationship analysis that makes a lot of chick lit so tedious.

Liv Kellerman is the protagonist of Jennifer Belle's novel High Maintenance (Riverhead Books, 351 pages, $13). She's 26, divorced and learning to be a real estate agent. She is also involved with a man who annoys, insults and eventually injures her.

In what is intended to be an empowering and amusing climax, she threatens him with a gun and gets him to confess he's married. So what does she do once she lets him go? She "couldn't wait another moment" to read the diary she stole from him and see what he's been saying about her.

She is still drawn to the tales of other women he claims he slept with, threats to steal Liv's gun and shoot her, and general insults. "Even when I finally stopped reading it I was still reading it," Liv says.

Sujata Massey's chick-myst heroine is a Japanese-American antiques dealer named Rei Shimura, who seems to stumble across murder and mystery. In The Bride's Kimono (HarperCollins, 320 pages, $25), while solving a murder and seeking a stolen antique kimono, she runs into her ex-boyfriend.

The two can't resist an amorous encounter while riding Washington's Metro train, even though Rei has a boyfriend back home in Japan. But while she ponders the love triangle, she also tells the police to mind their own business after they catch her less-than-polite train antics on a security camera, enlists her ex's help in solving the mystery, and finally chooses the man she wants, realizing "I knew I didn't have to stand alone to be strong."

Readers will have to choose, too. They can either watch a chick-lit character weather the angst of self-discovery until she can learn to be happy with herself and her wardrobe, or pick up a chick-myst adventure that starts with a savvy, confident woman and takes her, and the reader, on an adventure from there.

Sandy Alexander is a (not single) young woman taking on life and love in the big city as a reporter in The Sun's Howard County bureau. She finds it much more entertaining to imagine life as a sassy, capable crime fighter than to dwell on the dilemmas of dating, career and fashionable footwear. She formerly defended truth and justice as assistant to The Sun's book editor and was a free-lance reporter for the paper.