Everything I Know About Love I Learned From Romance Novels (2 page)

Ironically, many people who disdain the romance genre and look down on the women who read it presume that reading about courtship, emotional fulfillment, and rather fantastic orgasms leads to an unrealistic expectation of real life. If we romance readers are filling our own heads with romantic fantasies, real men and real life won’t and cannot possibly measure up to our fairy-tale expectations, right? Wrong. Wrongity wrong wrong wrong. That accusation implies that we don’t know the difference between fantasy and real life, and frankly, it’s sexist as well. You don’t see adult gamers being accused of an inability to discern when one is a human driving a real car and when one is a yellow dinosaur driving a Mario Kart, but romance readers hear about their unrealistic expectations of men almost constantly.

We’re going to put that sorry notion away for good. In this book, you’ll hear from me and other romance readers and writers as we explain both what we’ve learned about ourselves and about relationships. Sometimes the fantastical and impossible, such as the space captain with a streak of honor, or the sinking pirate ship populated with crewmen with impeccable manners and perfect teeth, can help translate reality better than any self-help book ever could. When you see your problems blown up into, dare I say, fantasy proportions, your real problems don’t look so insurmountable. Fantasy, instead of distorting reality, can help you comprehend your reality.

For example, in many paranormal romances, especially urban fantasies, the fate of the world, if not the fate of the universe, may hinge on whether or not the heroes of the story figure out their pesky relationship problems and beat the bad guy. Their ability to kick ass and to kiss each other are equally important, because if they don’t work their shit out, the planet might blow up. Comparing your current difficulty to that level of “OHCRAPNO” might help you gain perspective on how to handle it, and how to stop it from happening again.

This is not to say that problems are not important—they absolutely are. But no one knows better than romance fans that most problems are also very likely fixable with varying applications of hard work and some risks or maybe a righteous smack down with a broadsword and a photon-charged handgun.

Now, before we move on to the kicking of ass and the fixing of things, let me share with you The Rules of This Book. Yes, there are rules. Fear not, for they are easy and friendly rules.

The First Rule:
Happiness is serious business, but I do not take many things too seriously. And by “things” I mean pretty much everything. So this is not a book wherein you’ll be asked to journal or spend time holding your own hand, envisioning willow trees and flowers with no pollen to make you sneeze as you drift on a tranquil riverbank, reclining in an outlandishly comfortable rowboat with the one you love.

HEY! WAKE UP!

Techniques that bring you to some understanding of yourself are all good—but that is not what this book is about. This book is about celebrating romance novels for every important thing they teach us about ourselves, the people we love, and the relationships we value—and the sex we have. That alone should tell you: expect jokes about man-titty and mighty wangs, and when we get to that chapter about sex, expect the insertion of seriously turgid bad puns.

The Second Rule:
Each chapter is defined by a specific lesson we romance fans have learned that is demonstrated by countless romance novels—along with extra content for fun, games, silliness, mayhem, and shenanigans. If you’re a romance reader, no matter how old you are or how old your relationship may be, I’m willing to bet a stack of paperbacks that you’re already aware of some of these ideas, if not all—even if you didn’t realize it. After many, many unwilling dukes and smoldering tycoons meeting their matches among the best and bravest of heroines, we romance readers know what behaviors can help someone enjoy a happy, healthy, meaningful, and satisfying relationship, and which behaviors can screw it all up in a damn hurry.

Many romance readers and writers helped with the creation of this book, and there are quotes from writers you may have heard of, writers who are new to you, and readers who may be just like you—terribly passionate about romances. Some readers I quote by their real names, and others I attribute using their online pseudonyms. Regardless, all of the quotes in this book came from individuals who love romance, and have read metric tons of it.

The Third Rule:
Not every situation may match, but the basics of romance, both in real-life and in literature, are simple. Unless your veins are filled, as my friend Billie says, with brimming levels of crazysauce, you are probably a kind person who is entirely capable of loving someone and being loved in return. We get a lot of terrible examples in mainstream media and entertainment on how to treat people we love. Between the murderous glares, misery, mayhem, and acts of momentary weakness played up for maximum laughter, there’s a lot of How Not to Treat People. Romance novels are the antithesis of that example, and we readers are fortunate to indulge in stories that are uplifting and hopeful in the end. So if you’re harboring some stalwart prejudices about the romance genre, it may be time to rethink them. No, it’s definitely time to rethink them. Romances can be a rare but valuable example of how to treat people.

So now that we know the Three Rules of This Book, let’s get to work. Here’s a romance-tested idea that I bet you already knew: the “happy ending” is actually right now. It’s not somewhere down the line into the misty future. Everyone deserves a happy-ever-after. Everyone deserves a happy, healthy relationship. Bottom line, everyone deserves happiness, period, full stop. But, as that motivational poster so tritely puts it, happiness is the journey, not the destination. And as Nora Roberts has said many times in interviews, the story of a romance is not the happy ending, but the journey to that happy ending. Thus, every story is different, unique, and ultimately happy.

Romance fans can tell you, happiness is created in the present, not as a wish for the future. The first rule of your happy-ever-after is to be happy right now.

Prepare ye for a moment of touchy-feely-squirminess: that means the first, most-important relationship you have is the one with yourself. If you are happy, content, and capable of taking good care of yourself, whether that’s an hour of working out or an hour of reading with a dish of ice cream (and I heartily support both), you’re on your way toward happy-ever-after because you care about yourself now. In other (really sickly twee, I admit) words, happiness is the present we give ourselves in the present, and its presence in our lives is a present to the world. (I just totally made you throw up, didn’t I? Sorry about that.)

Moreover, happiness is not created by the presence of someone else in your life. Happiness and joy should already be hanging out with you (and complimenting your appearance) when you encounter someone else who captures your attention.

That someone else augments and adds to your happiness—sort of like fantastic icing on a rich, moist cupcake, or a really savory and delicious gravy on your already-gourmet dinner. You are the most important element in the process of finding your happy ending, and you must start with happiness already riding shotgun in your life. A small dose of romance can add to that happy-happy, reminding you that things will all work out, and that, yes, you are marvelous as you are.

But romance isn’t merely the printed version of a “There, there” ham-fisted pat on the head. Romance, in addition to being All about the Happy, is also mentally active—and is, we all freely acknowledge, a form of entertainment. Romance is fun! It’s sometimes emotionally twisting, or light, sparkling comedy, or straight-up sudsy, fluffy fantasy, but it’s fun. But reading romance—and reading in general—is, and always has been, a mentally active pastime.

Compare reading with television viewing: With TV, you passively sit and receive visual and auditory stimulation. With reading, you actively fill your mind and absorb the story mentally while embellishing with your own creativity. The reader creates the voices, imagines the scenery, and envisions the ambiance. Some readers dislike seeing cover models’ faces on the book jackets because they want to imagine the faces themselves.

Because of that involvement, women are very critical of their romance-reading entertainment. This is not a surprise for me, since I review and critique romances every day, and the
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website is largely fueled by the passion of romance readers gathering to talk about what rocked their worlds or what made them irate at the poor quality story. That passionate response (pun intended) is created because romance-reading is complex. It’s not a simple endeavor, all that mental creation and emotional connection. The entertainment and creative value is huge—and makes for a very personal and often vivid response in the reader, because if the reader is actively involved in the reading experience, she is giving of herself and wants to be fulfilled. A bad movie might create a feeling of disgust or disappointment, but the same two hours spent with a bad book can create a much stronger negative emotion, up to and including outright rage. Just check out some Amazon book reviews if you don’t believe me. Hell, check out some of my D and F reviews on
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for evidence of bad-book-rage. It’s just as true for the positive response as well: good romances will create an absolute joy and possibly the desire to forcibly beat someone with a paperback until they agree to read that fantastic book you’ve just finished. (I refuse to incriminate myself by stating whether I’ve committed such an act.) (Oh, screw it, I totally have. C’mere so I can beat you with my copy
of Bet Me.)

That incredible positivity at the end of a good romance is part of why romance-reading is so addictive: that emotional lift at the end creates a sustained feeling of happiness, and if readers don’t get that expected joy, they are not happy about it, because, oh boy, do they know what they are missing. And when they don’t get what they wanted in a book, they are the exact opposite of happy—and that goes for me too.

I’ve often joked that romance readers have a sound that they make when they finish or even talk about a wonderful book they’ve read. I can’t transcribe it here, but it’s somewhere between a sigh and a moan, similar to the sound you make when eating the most delicious meal when you’re supremely hungry, or when you finally come into a warm room from a cold day.

The happiness that comes with finishing a good romance also means that this happiness spreads. Reader Liz Talley says that the bonus happily-ever-after (more commonly known as the HEA) “has to give some chemical reaction in the brain that promotes satisfaction and happiness. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve closed a book, sighed, and thought ‘Today will be a good day.’”

Romance novels are both the story of the characters finding each other, and the story of finding themselves deserving of the effort that creating a happy-ever-after requires. Happiness might be as difficult to spot as an undercover duke operating a cattle ranch in Texas. But if you’re already familiar with joy and contentment, your continued happiness will be as easy to spot as a plucky nineteenth century heroine dressed as a boy. I mean, doesn’t every nineteen- or twenty-year-old woman fit into a ten-year-old boy’s clothing? Of course they do. I’ve been to the mall and time-traveled to Regency London. I know these things.