Falling in Love

Although I usually keep my thoughts and remarks somewhat “genre-free”, today I’m making an exception. I’m a romance writer, and today, I’m going to write about romance. Or, more precisely, about the romance genre in fiction.

Of course, there are many, many different “sub-genres” within the world of romance novels. Yet, at their heart, all romance novels are about love, about people who meet, discover an attraction to one another, and whose lives are changed by that wondrous phenomenon we call “falling in love”. falling-in-love

How does it happen? What does “falling in love” really mean? How do we know when love is real?

For most of us, I think, love is simply something that happens somewhere along the way as we go through life. We meet someone. Something “clicks”. We smile a lot. We laugh a little more. We enjoy spending time with that someone special who’s brought joy and happiness into our heart.

Sometimes love lingers quietly in the background for years before exploding into passionate sparks. At other times, with just one look, or a single spoken word, flames of love might burst forth at once. More often, love is slow, but steady. We see. We like. We pursue.

But that’s the real world. What about the fictional world in which our heroes and heroines live? Romance novels don’t often cover lengthy time spans — although, of course, there are exceptions.  The men and women of our romance novels (and yes, I’m going to go the traditional route here and speak of men and women falling in love) meet on Page 1 or thereabouts, and within the space of 200 pages, or thereabouts, they’re married folks, perhaps parents, and already living their happily-ever-after ending.

How does it happen?

Sometimes, it doesn’t make sense, to be honest. As writers, we all understand the importance of conflict and complications, so we have to throw obstacles in the way of our handsome hero and lovely heroine.

Unfortunately, too many authors misunderstand conflict, I think. They give readers characters who are totally opposite, characters who have absolutely nothing in common, characters who do nothing but bicker, argue, and go out of their way to make each other miserable.

Then, mid-way through the book, these authors suddenly bring hero and heroine together, throw in a few sultry looks, and yep…next thing you know, they’re romping in the sheets and declaring their undying love.

I’ve read books where hero and heroine meet one morning, and by late afternoon he’s so madly in love with her, he’ll do anything — even risk his own life — to save her from danger. Maybe. Maybe not. I’m sure he’s a heck of a nice guy, and maybe he would jump in and swim with sharks for her, but I still question the depth of his love after knowing the heroine for no more than a few hours.

Or consider the story of one loving couple from a historical romance I read years ago. They met once. Yes, once. They were children. They both felt something special. After that one meeting, they were separated. Over the years, their paths crossed a few times. Once, she was attending a lecture. She suddenly got chills of excitement running up and down her spine, but then it was gone. What had happened was that he had passed by the lecture hall on his way to an appointment. Yeah. He had those shivers and quivers, too. This happened several times. No meeting between the two of them. Just near-misses, and lots of quivers, shivers, tingles, and heart palpitations. Finally, in the last few pages of the book, they were reunited! Must I say it? Yes, dear readers, they declared their love and lived happily ever after. At least, that’s what the author expected readers to believe.

This reader said “Huh?”

Point #1: Falling in love usually requires spending a little time together.

My next concern involves those conflicts I mentioned before. Good romantic conflict doesn’t lead to argument. Heroes and heroines don’t have to hate each other. Quite the opposite. Good conflict occurs when hero and heroine are drawn to one another; they want to fall in love, they want romance to happen — but there are reasons why they can’t allow it. And those reasons had better be good ones!

I recall a story built around a seemingly good premise: Hero was quickly falling in love with the heroine, but she was married. Or so he thought. It was, of course, a misunderstanding. That man she talked about all the time was really her brother, not her husband.

Excuse me, folks, but didn’t these two characters ever talk to each other? Don’t you think, logically, a few conversations might have resolved the whole “I-can’t-love-her-because-she-has-a-husband” problem?

Point #2: If your couples are truly falling in love, they should be on speaking terms.

Yes, they may have secrets, but simple misunderstandings are’t enough to create believable conflicts. Real conflicts come from issues of mistrust, from past experiences that have affected the characters, and from external problems that prevent the couple from having the relationship they want.

Another problem I’ve encountered with couples falling in love is what I call “the believability factor”. This is a situation that creeps into stories in different ways — like in the story of the dashing sea captain who picked up a doxy on the pier. Of course, she really wasn’t, but he didn’t bother to inquire about particulars. He took her immediately to his bed. They had sex. They had more sex. They had even more sex. He was insatiable. He simply couldn’t get enough of her. (By the way, since she was his captive, she didn’t figure she should resist all this physical affection.)

And then…he discovered the truth. She wasn’t a working girl at all. She was a decent woman who was running away from a bad situation. He realized, too, he loved her, but to make up for his bad behavior, he wouldn’t have sex with her again until she forgave him and agreed to marry him. Or some such nonsense. The exact details have escaped my mind, but after several chapters of sex, sex, sex, the author then expected me — the reader — to believe that this hot-blooded sea captain would steadfastly resist the heroine (and any other woman) for nearly a year no matter how much she yearned for his touch. Sorry. Disconnect there. His sudden change from lusty lover to passionless gentleman wasn’t believable.

It’s the same with all those die-hard, confirmed bachelor rakes who’ve sworn never to marry, and who then, with no apparent motivation decide they must propose to the lovely heroine. Maybe it’s the only way she’ll give in to him…but wouldn’t such a devil-may-care playboy be more apt to simply move on to the next, more-willing woman?

Point #3: Maybe we can’t always find reasons for why we fall in love, but we do need reasonable explanations for changes in our behavior.

Of course, there’s the other side of this quick-change coin, as well. The shy, inexperienced heroine who intends to save herself for marriage needs good motivation for suddenly turning into a wanton, sex-craving paramour. Maybe she’s doing it because it’s the only way she can save her life. I’d buy that. If it’s mere curiosity that’s prompting her actions or if her only motivation is winning a silly bet with a friend…I’m not so sure that would be enough to get past my “believability factor”.

Everyone loves a good love story. As romance writers, let’s give our readers stories that have passion, conflict, honesty, and believability. Most of all, let’s give our heroes and heroines a chance to truly fall in love.

Comments, please?

Once Upon a Time

Once upon a time…

My first novel began with those words. Of course, I was only eight  years old, and as far as I knew, that’s how stories were supposed to begin.

For many of us, those words served as an entry way to the faraway times and places of our favorite fairy tales and children’s stories. Those words were magic, leading us to castles and cottages, enchanted gardens, babbling brooks, and mysterious forests.

Because of those words we could leave behind our mundane world and its everyday people, and venture off into the unknown, meeting knights and dragons, witches and ogres, soaring eagles, talking animals, princes, princesses, kings, queens, and the occasional knave.



With those words, we sailed upon the seven seas, rode magic carpets through cloud-filled skies, and dug deep down into the center of the earth.

We traveled to lands filled with giants, dwarves, elves, and beautiful winged-faeries.

Mystical creatures lived within those words.  They lifted us up and carried us off to wondrous, magical places.

For me, those words can still transport me to different times and places. Even now, I can close my eyes, recite those powerful words, and feel the same sense of awe and joy I knew as a child.

Was it any wonder then that when I sat down to write my first “grown-up” novel, I turned to “Once upon a time”?

Actually, I didn’t. At least, not at first. After all, I wasn’t a child, and I certainly wasn’t telling a children’s story.  I was no longer eight years old and writing silly drivel about a little girl who loved horses as much as I did.

No, not at all. I was writing the stuff of great fiction, or so I hoped. I was spinning a story of love and betrayal. My pages would soon be filled with incredible bursts of emotion ranging from the most violent anger — yes, I even had a dead body to throw in — to the sweetest, tenderest, most intimate feelings between a man and a woman.

I would write of lies and deception, joy, bliss, despair, fear…and on and on. Oh, yes, I would do so much with my story. If and when I ever figured out how to do it.

I tried.

I started here, I started there. I wrote an opening scene then rewrote it from another point of view. I threw out a chapter or two, started again, and wondered if maybe I needed another dead body. Or three.

Obviously, something wasn’t working.

Finally, in desperation, I reached for a notebook and pen. I curled up, closed my eyes, and tried to think of the best way to tell my story. Not to the reader. I needed to tell my story to myself.

Then I began to write. Neat, cursive script upon clean, narrow-ruled pages.

Once upon a time…

I smiled and kept writing. Soon, I had nearly a dozen hand-written pages filled with characters, dialogue, scenes, settings, and descriptions. My story had been there all along inside my head, but I couldn’t get it out until I used those magic words.

Once upon a time…

Of course, those words faded from the story in time. Once I had the story out of my head and onto the page, it was a fairly simple process to see where and how to begin, what to include, where to put those dead bodies.

It worked. So the next time I sat down to write a love story, I simply closed my eyes and repeated the magic words again.

Once upon a time…

Happy storytelling to all!