How many of us have heard disparaging remarks concerning Romance? We defend our chosen genre as obviously the most popular and the money maker for many book stores, and point out we write to bring pleasure to a large reading audience. How often do we define our books instead of defending them?
To write Romantically is to show life as better than it is. Mildly attractive becomes stunningly gorgeous. Successful businessman becomes a leader of industry. Feature writer becomes an award winning journalist. Story telling, yarn spinning at its finest and also writing Romantically.
Some authors manage to write successfully about the less glamorous aspects of our daily lives. Disease, poverty, injury take center stage in their books. But no one is pluckier and more beloved than their heroine, no one falls harder or rises further, drawing the reader along for the journey. We hope we can be as tenacious, as graciously successful, as these heroines.
When it comes to the relationship aspect of these books, once again larger than life trumps the every day. One of my favorite romances was about a small town veterinarian and a visiting young woman who has to work through a personal trauma. Standard story, boy meets girl, the feel attraction, their relationship has its ups and downs, ending in marriage. What takes the story beyond the mundane is the character of the veterinarian and the extreme trauma the young woman has experienced, plus her own shy nature, plus a domineering mother. What a lot she has to overcome and she does it so in a fashion we could only hope to emulate all the while maintaining her near translucent skin without a drop of facial cream.
In the real world it=s not unusual for people to meet and fall in love, a high percentage experiencing some form of Happily Ever After. How many of even these exemplary men manage to remember birthdays without a reminder and think to move the couch when (or if) they sweep? Just find one who can replace the toilet paper roll. Now that would be writing about life better than any of us could ever imagine.