For the majority of my life, I wanted to be a writer. But never once, in all those years, did I want to be a romance writer.
I was that kid growing up who would rather read adventure books, watch war movies, and live vicariously through fantasy stories. I would even go so far as to say that I kind of hated romance. I mean, as late as high school, I could be seen looking away from screens if the characters were kissing.
And yet, if I were forced to describe my writing today, romance would be one of the categories it fits in. Did I have some crazy change of heart?
No. No I did not. I still do not want to be a romance writer.
So what, you may ask, is the cause of this contradiction? Well, for some reason, I got it into my head that I wanted to adapt fairy tales. A Cinderella story jumped into my mind and refused to leave, spawning a five book series. And the key component of any fairy tale?
True love. (For some reason, The Princess Bride perfectly captures so many of my thoughts and emotions regarding this post. I love that movie.)
And therein lies the crux of the problem. Fairy tales are romances. I like to rewrite them, adapt them, give them a new angle. But I can’t take the romance out of them.
I’ll let you in on a little secret. I’ve overcome my aversion to romance stories. I quite enjoy them now. But I still don’t like to write them. Probably because I have no experience to draw on. And yet, I think that gives me an advantage. Because I’ve never been in a romantic relationship, I haven’t had to deal with the good or bad. I can use my imagination to create idealistic love stories. It’s a complicated situation that often drives me crazy.
Anyways. This has been a collection of ramblings regarding romance. You may now return to your regularly scheduled activities. But for now, I’ll leave you with this while I go track down a copy of The Princess Bride to watch.