Why I Write Romance
A friend recently asked me why I chose the romance genre to write about. In fact, I’ve known this person a long time and she wasn’t aware I even liked romance. She said, “You’re good at, I just never knew you liked romance.” And it got me thinking.
I played with Barbies until I was twelve years old - years past all the other girls in my class; most of which stopped around age ten. I would spread out blankets and create houses of cardboard boxes, laid out in a grid like a neighborhood. It was expansive. My dolls had dramatic lives like on General Hospital, which was big at the time. Anyone remember Luke and Laura? I’m dating myself here. Life, death, babies, betrayal, flings, adultery, drama! I even had a lesbian couple; which was very progressive for the 80s. My brothers still talk about the funeral they were forced to attend. Funny enough, when we dug up the doll a year later, she was in perfect condition and I imagined (at age 13 now) she had become a zombie.
I didn’t tell anyone I still played with Barbies, but their stories consumed my life. I remember my parents telling me I was too old to play with dolls and I sadly, I listened to them. I put my Barbies in a box and didn’t look at them for years. I remember how unhappy I felt putting my friends away. I was a weird kid.
I wrote my first novel when I was seventeen. It was a vampire story about a girl who meets a totally hot guy who may or may not be a vampire at the Vampire Lounge (a real coffee house where I grew up). She falls hard for him and he helps her get over the jerk who broke her heart into a million pieces. This girl is in love, but she just can’t understand why this mega-hot dude likes her. Obviously, he sees something in her no one else does. The girl ends up ruining the relationship because she just can’t get around the fact that someone so amazing would love her. The hot guy respects her wishes and leave town. OK LOL. It does not have a happy ending; but she does lose her virginity. At seventeen, I was a year away from that benchmark myself. In the end, she never finds out he’s a vampire who wanted to spend eternity with her and goes back to her boring life.
Sounds good when I write it out like that, but it’s actually HORRIBLE with a capital H. Cringeworthy. The story also explores the girl’s relationship with her mother - my own was quite contentious at the time. Basically, no one understood this girl - which is exactly how I felt when I wrote it. I still have it because it’s like a snapshot of who I was at seventeen: a wannabe writer with deep feels.
In my early 20s, my brother said, “Remember how you loved Barbies? You should play The Sims.” He got me a copy of the game and it was like, “Goodbye everyone! I’ll be with my Sims!” Like Barbies, they consumed my life. I loved them. I made up dramatic stories for them to play out. They were my little pals. I don’t play as much as I used to, but in every iteration of the game, I have re-created the same characters over and over. You could say I got attached. My husband finds the whole thing fascinating. He would often watch me play and marvel at the level of detail I’d given my little people and their friends and enemies in the town.
So when I started writing romance fiction, my husband couldn’t help but notice that my stories were these in-depth worlds like I had created with my Sims and Barbies. He said, “You’ve been telling stories in one way or another your whole life.” It occurred to me: I really had. These stories have been bubbling up in me my entire life. As bad as my age-seventeen novel is, there are elements of all that in my writing now: girls who don’t fit in, they don’t get along with their parents, etc. My stories have many elements of reality in them too. Many events either happened in my own real life or I wished they happened. Write what you know.
I’m sure if I really trace it back, my mom is to blame for me liking romance. She loved old movies and I remember when we first watched Gone with the Wind. To me, four hours was not long enough! I needed to know what happened to Scarlet! And then movies like Raintree County and just about anything to do with love. I may post about my all-time favorite romance movies later. There are a lot. Mom is also the one who got me into Little House on the Prairie and The Hallmark Channel. If I analyze it, I can now see that my mom focused on romance because her own relationship with my dad was failing and the ones after weren’t so hot. She needed to experience that love somehow and she found it in books and movies. I think because my mom didn’t appear to experience passion, I actively made it my mission to have what she didn’t. I’ve had some very dramatic and passionate relationships in my life and they absolutely go into my stories.
To me, romance just isn’t about boy meets girl, boy loses girl, etc. Our romantic relationships are some of the most important ones in our lives. The people we CHOOSE to spend our lives with… it’s everything. Our mates and spouses and lovers affect us in so many deep ways. They can either help us or hinder us. They also affect our other relationships and creep into every aspect of out lives. A boyfriend breaks up with us and we’re so depressed we lose our job. It happened to me. They can support us or bring us down. We also never forget our first loves, our hard loves, our wimpy loves. We remember them all. Our partners are part of us. They’re part of who we are or will become.
Over the years, we develop new relationships to our past loves and I’m captivated by this. How at age sixteen, I was so deep in love with a boy I cried over him every night - and now, I don’t think of him all that much. I now know we were just children and we didn’t know any better. He enters my thoughts occasionally. Part of me still yearns for his attention, but in a nostalgic way. I can also look back fondly on the nights I listened to The Cure and wept into my pillow. I can laugh at how dramatic I was. And all this comes out in my stories.
Part of me wants to immortalize those portions of my life in some way, to live them out again, or give them happier endings. For whatever reason, I am a storyteller and I have stories to tell.
It wasn’t until I started writing exactly to the romance genre that I looked back and recognized that every story I have ever written has some element of romance or an aspect of love, lost love, etc. One short story about a boy and his cat isn’t about romantic love, but it’s about the deep love we feel for our pets. Even when I’m writing about the end of the world, there is love and romance. I also photographed weddings for many years. For me, it was all about their love story. How two people met, fell in love, got along pretty good, and decided to take it to the next level. The wedding vows in particular were always my favorite. I loved watching a couple proclaim their affections in front of God and everyone. I loved seeing people on one of the happiest days of their lives and at their best. But I’m not afraid to write them at their worst. Human beings are complex little animals and I never run out of stories to tell. Every couple was unique, faced their own challenges, and made it work in different ways.
Romance isn’t just two people in love. It’s filled with complicated emotions that equate multifaceted story lines. Life is messy, life is wonderful, and I want to write about it. Ultimately, I write romance because I love love. I know it sounds cheesy. Human love is like a riddle to unravel. I also enjoy writing about NPCs (non-playing characters) like the townies in The Sims. I would often stray from my main family and pick a townie family I liked and would explore their lives. You’ll see this in my upcoming novels - the friends and families in Apple Creek. You’ll learn about all the background characters. I love that. So you see, it’s not just about the main characters, it’s everyone - just like when I was a kid. I also don’t stop after the kiss. What happens after? How do these characters explore their lives together? What could tear them apart or bring them back together? Life isn’t always clean and happy endings aren’t the end of the story.