Everything I Know About Love I Learned From Romance Novels (11 page)

Alpha Lyra has a list of hero traits from romances she cannot stand that apply to both real and fictional men: “Rakes (all I can think of is how many STDs they must have). Asshats. Passive men lacking in ambition or passion. Misogynists (men who hate all women until they meet the heroine).”

If you’re not familiar with the term, “rake” refers to a male who has an absolutely jaw-dropping number of sexual partners in his back story and is, in short, a giant slut with a coating of titanium to keep the diseases away. Rakes hold a certain appeal for some readers, but only in fiction, probably because of that mythical titanium shield! Kitzie says that “My favorite heroes are mostly rakes. I think they are vulnerable but strong, able to find a way to avoid hurt, even if it’s not the best road to happiness. The best are Sebastian from
Devil in Winter
(Evie sees through to his sensitive parts, and he loves her anyway) and Vidal in
Devil’s Cub
(when he actually acts his age and begs his father to tell Mary she must marry him? I just die. Plus, Mary shoots him. ’Nuf said). But a rake wouldn’t do in real life—they never deal well with people seeing past their facades.”

A reader named Wendy says, “Seriously. I love me some brooding, Possible Interesting Secret Damage in a book, but in life: yikes. No.

“My real-life this-does-not-work example: My sister keeps dating these lovely musicians who come off either mysterious or playful (with a hidden something), but to a man, they live with their parents in their mid to late twenties. Under the smoldering, reading of philosophy, and talent, the immaturity is
VAST
. She’s care-taking, and they may or may not pick up the ball when she needs them to. I understand the attraction, but no. I want a guy who will drive me to work when the roads are icy and wash the dishes—partnership and small care-taking—and still think that spontaneous sexoring on the stairs is a really good idea.”

Sometimes, finding a man who in one key way is the opposite of a preferred type can make a huge difference, as Joanna S. explains: “The types of dominant men/heroes who make me tingle deliciously in my no-no place in romance novels would make me run screaming in real life, or possibly dial 911 upon meeting them. The good news is that I did finally find my Stoic Alpha in real life, and I knew he was my dream guy when, three months into our relationship, I asked how he felt about me, and he looked me dead in the eye and said (without any hesitation or stammering), ‘I love you, of course!!’ Mrowr.”

Sallie decided that, after reading about too many, “damaged, brooding, tormented heroes really aren’t attractive. There’s no strength or desire in me to engage their demons; I have my own.

“I passed on a romance with a troubled man in favor of one with my husband, a transparent, peaceable, optimistic man who had a happy childhood. The odd thing is, my husband
does
find damaged, hurt women attractive. He wants to fix them and make them happy, which was my good luck. But since I do not find anger, depression, and pain attractive, and I know they’re not good for children, I give my family the best of me that I can.

“This is what romance novels never, never told me, but life has: it is fantasy—foolishness if you expect it in life—to think that you can be the heroine who tames the alpha rake and turns him into a devoted, faithful husband, all for the love of you. It is much more sensible to start off with the nice guy who loves you and wants to be true.”

Without the “Romance Novel Guarantee”™ and its assurance of the happily-ever-after by page three-hundred-whatever, it can be difficult to see past the negatives, especially without any signal that there are heroic qualities as well. Tracy Hopkins says that she is “also attracted to the fictional kinds of guys that sensible me would never go for in real life: J. R. Ward’s Zsadist as the damaged soul screams for me…but in real life? Too much baggage. In a romance novel, you know the guy is going to turn out okay, so it’s OK to love him…in sensible real life, you
know
you’re never going to fix him so you need to
stay away
. In real life, I’ve been known to try, unfortunately.

“Stan from Suzanne Brockmann’s
Over the Edge
is one I go for in fiction
and
in real life…the protector sort. My real-life protector doesn’t have abs that nice, though. On the other hand, he’s real. And sensible.”

Laurel similarly has a line between real-life-possibility and no-freaking-way when it comes to hero behavior: “I like some Alpha in my heroes, borderline overbearing, but never, ever, ever disrespectful. It’s a tricky balance between slightly overprotective and ‘don’t you worry your pretty little head, sugar britches.’”

Milena agrees: “I, too, often like heroes who would not be charming in real life. There’s one important thing for heroes to work for me both in books and in real life, and that’s understanding that they were wrong and trying to make it right. One of the latest examples that comes to mind is Rhys from
Iron Duke
: he’s obnoxious at first, but slowly learns how not to be—and that’s when his best qualities really get to shine.”

A Thrilling Yarn explains why romance readers adore certain heroes—and what reading about the heroic perfection in some fictional novels gives to readers: “The hero is not perfect for every or any woman out there; he is perfect for that specific heroine. I think it makes the reader have more hope for her own life or relationship. Not every girl will be able to land a Brad Pitt or a Fabio, but you have a realistic chance at that one man who is flawed, but flawed in a way that you can stand, and maybe even complement. Freddy in [Georgette Heyer’s]
Cotillion
is wonderful because he does small things and isn’t the most handsome or the most intelligent or the most charming, but he is the RIGHT man and the man that will make THAT heroine happiest.
The Grand Sophy
has another great hero that would be a horrible match for many ladies, but is perfect for Sophy. There isn’t much to the book after the proposal, but you close the pages knowing that they will bring out the best in each other for the entire marriage.”

Caitlin, as well, learned from older romances what she definitely Did Not Want in a hero: “They taught me what type of future partner I wanted. In my early forays into romance, it was one of the few book types not commonly in the house. So the stuff I picked up was from car boot sales and fairly old, and the heroes were such DICKS. They were strong, and passionate, and mentally and physically steadfast, which I learned I liked, but they were SO HORRIBLE. Why couldn’t they just talk about things? Why couldn’t they just say they loved her? So subconsciously I resolved to find a partner with their good traits, while simultaneously actively deciding to find someone who wasn’t a complete TOSSPOT.

“Later, romances taught me not to settle. Young women are frequently taught to settle. With their high-school boyfriend, or anyone who is ‘good enough.’ Not to say there is any such thing as a perfect person, as a soul mate, just two people with a lot in common who love each other—romance novels trained me into thinking I was worthy of adoration, not just someone who kept me around, thought I was cute, and guessed they could put up with me. Someone who saw every part of me and loved me so fiercely it was insane. Someone who loved me, in short, like a romance novel hero. And I was told that sort of love doesn’t exist, that it doesn’t stand up to every day, that men are borderline dumb animals who have to be trained into humanity. But I looked, because I wouldn’t settle. I couldn’t imagine anything more soul-destroying, and after a lot of fun, I found someone exactly like that. And that romance-novel love has lasted seven years, through severe illnesses, depression, his terrible farts, etc. As I said to him, if you can both have the norovirus at the same time (Google it) and still look at each other three days later and love each other and want to jump each other’s bones, three days after you were too scared to fart in case it wasn’t a fart, you know it’s real.”

By far my favorite comment from all the authors and readers who responded to my questions and requests for help came from Robyn Carr, who looked at the idea of what readers and writers learned from romance, and how happy-ever-afters can be taught one book at a time, and turned that question on its head: “I think the antithesis of the question is more important—what do we learn from romance novels that we shouldn’t get over?

“When our heroines walk away from lying, cheating, abusive relationships, our readers stand up and cheer! When our heroes fail to fall for mean, selfish, manipulative women, our readers applaud! Men and women in real life and in romance novels find themselves trapped in unhealthy, destructive relationships all the time, and when they choose to believe they deserve love, respect, and healthy, enduring relationships, when they reclaim their lives and demand only excellent treatment and a love they can fully trust, life is good. Readers are not only satisfied—they use those characters as role models.”

If you watch television at all, or have perhaps flipped through a popular magazine in the last few years, you might have noticed that it’s kind of hard (ha!) to be a guy right now. The male beauty industry has made some serious strides in potentially high-cost product marketing. There are new male body colognes, body washes, hair dyes, skin care products—all with that same condescending tone that women receive from the beauty industry as well. To wit: “You do not look good right now. We might be able to help.” Both genders are told regularly they aren’t thin, bulky, hairless, hairy, svelte, muscular, or perfect enough. And it’s easy to arrive at the conclusion that romance novels propagate the idea that the pinnacle of beauty is a level to which most humans cannot ascend, and that therefore most folks can’t be romance heroes or heroines.

So not true. I’ll tell you why.

Each gender is schooled in a standard of beauty and we’re programmed to notice when others of the same gender do not live up to that standard. But when it comes to the objects of our affection, regardless of their gender, we don’t notice any of that stuff. Ordinary people are way more heroic than the air-brushed super-enhanced image of any model, anywhere (even in the shower, or on a horse, with or without Old Spice).

The real heroic traits for men and for women are much trickier to sustain in real life than keeping a perfect mullet all mullety with gleaming mulletness. Moreover, they are all internal characteristics and things you likely learned as a child when you were taught how to treat other people (the difference now being that biting other people, when consensual, is much more acceptable). So what are the traits that form the foundation of a hero or heroine? Funny you should ask, because romance authors and readers know them all—particularly Loretta Chase, who, as I said earlier, pretty much knows everything, including tomorrow’s lottery numbers.

New York Times
bestselling author Robyn Carr says that
RESPECT
is the key ingredient in a hero or heroine: “It supersedes all. It doesn’t mean they never quarrel or misunderstand or get angry—but it means fighting fair, striving to understand, and [having] a willingness to forgive. Men and women in life and in romance should have basic, fundamental respect for their opposite sex; for all human beings, for that matter. And, when some action or behavior causes a loss of respect and trust, that happily-ever-after cannot come into focus until it’s restored.”