What Is It About Romance?
Like many romance fans all over the world, I am happily married. Very happily, and though we will have our 19th anniversary this August we are still like butt-grabbing teenagers. My 12 year old son got a trauma-inducing eyeful when he walked in the room without knocking the other morning. My hubby talked to him later, and he said, "I didn't know you guys still did that."
(Side note: It is somewhat difficult to enjoy tea and crumpets while exploding in laughter. This because your son has told your 14 year old daughter, who sits outside your room telling the dog who is scratching madly at the door to get in, "No, Mazie! They're having sex, and they don't want you in there!")
Anyway, my point, and I do have one, is that I'm satisfied in the romance department. I've caught my limit. I'm not pining for old visions of what might have been, or longing for what I've never had.
So why do I love romances so much? I love mysteries- but like them better when there's a little romance thrown in. Westerns? Ditto. Sci-fi? Fantasy? Check and check. I love reading about the first zing of attraction, about couples who discover things about themselves and each other, and come out better for it. Gritting my teeth over fictional missed opportunities. Moments when I want to yell over the stupid thing EVERY SINGLE ROMANCE HEROINE does- whether it's jumping to a erroneous conclusion or going into the dark scary basement in a nightie.
I wait for, and am usually rewarded by, my favorite moment: When the H/h stop saying How Could I Ever Want Him/Her? and start saying How Could He/She Ever Want Me? When the heroine is moved not by his impressive breastplate or crumpet skills, but his nobility of character and strength of soul. When the hero is still motivated by her looks, but finds himself aching over her inner beauty.
Yes, the Black Moment worries me even though I know it will end well, and the HEA still has me sighing and crying after reading romances for most of my life. And I still don't know why. I don't know what need these stories satisfy. And I guess I don't have to. I'm just grateful there are so many out there to choose from.
What about you? What is it about romance for you?
(Side note: It is somewhat difficult to enjoy tea and crumpets while exploding in laughter. This because your son has told your 14 year old daughter, who sits outside your room telling the dog who is scratching madly at the door to get in, "No, Mazie! They're having sex, and they don't want you in there!")
Anyway, my point, and I do have one, is that I'm satisfied in the romance department. I've caught my limit. I'm not pining for old visions of what might have been, or longing for what I've never had.
So why do I love romances so much? I love mysteries- but like them better when there's a little romance thrown in. Westerns? Ditto. Sci-fi? Fantasy? Check and check. I love reading about the first zing of attraction, about couples who discover things about themselves and each other, and come out better for it. Gritting my teeth over fictional missed opportunities. Moments when I want to yell over the stupid thing EVERY SINGLE ROMANCE HEROINE does- whether it's jumping to a erroneous conclusion or going into the dark scary basement in a nightie.
I wait for, and am usually rewarded by, my favorite moment: When the H/h stop saying How Could I Ever Want Him/Her? and start saying How Could He/She Ever Want Me? When the heroine is moved not by his impressive breastplate or crumpet skills, but his nobility of character and strength of soul. When the hero is still motivated by her looks, but finds himself aching over her inner beauty.
Yes, the Black Moment worries me even though I know it will end well, and the HEA still has me sighing and crying after reading romances for most of my life. And I still don't know why. I don't know what need these stories satisfy. And I guess I don't have to. I'm just grateful there are so many out there to choose from.
What about you? What is it about romance for you?
posted by Robyn | 6:56 AM
5 Comments:
I think you've put it very well.
Ditto.
And sometimes, when I've picked up the fourteenth pair of dirty socks scattered around the house, I need some reminders of the zing that I still enjoy with my husband after 14 years.
I love connecting with another character and living their life for a time. It doesn't hurt to have an amazing man.
My last heroine fell in love with her man because he stayed up all night and walked the floors with a screaming baby. Sorry, but that makes my heart go pitter-pat. Especially if he lets me sleep!!
Well, that was special, Robyn. Reminded me of the time in high school when my girlfriend and I were making out, and my parents' poodle kept whining and barking at us. Very distracting.
Great post ;)
Hilarious story. Hubby and I are the same way and we have four teenagers living in our house. It is difficult to find privacy. We'll be married 19 years this July. I think for me, romance reminds me of how I felt when we first met. We are more in love than ever, but it's much more comfortable now that it was back then and I think sometimes we miss the tumult of feelings. (Not that I'd ever go back for the world!) lol
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