Everything I Know About Love I Learned From Romance Novels (17 page)

Plus, adds Shannon, seeing so many relationships intimately in fiction means additional clarity for her own relationships too: “When I was in a relationship that wasn’t working out, I think that I was able to assess things to figure out what was wrong more easily because I had read so many romance novels and had seen so many different types of relationships. Not to say that I started viewing my relationship as a story or something like that, but I could realize that, hey, our only communication this week was that text four days ago. This is a problem.”

Liz Talley agrees: “I do agree that romance books promote communication as the root of a healthy relationship. Very seldom do you see this to be false in a romance book.”

Reader Amanda sees romances as a lesson in speaking up, and not avoiding the scary, difficult, awkward conversation, especially when the plots are a little ridiculous: “I think many romance novels are a lesson in What Not to Do, because so many involve the same plotline: Eyes Meet, Love,
BIG MISUNDERSTANDING, HEA.
And, like anyone else, what always gets me is how avoidable the Big Misunderstanding is. All anyone ever has to say is, ‘Are you a spy?’ ‘I heard you killed your last wife,’ or ‘Did you make a bet that you could sleep with me within a month?’ I think romance novels have taught me to just be brave and throw the words out there in the first place. At least then everyone is on the same page.”

Reba says that the depictions of women and men in romances are actually, in her opinion, more liberated emotionally and sexually than in other forms of entertainment: “I didn’t expect real men to be the same as romance novel heroes, any more than I expected them to be the same as fantasy novel heroes (and let’s face it, no man is going to live up to Aragorn, no matter how awesome he is), but one thing I found surprising was how sympathetic I was to the men.

“They had feelings, thoughts, doubts, fears, stupid habits that got them into trouble. Their strength did not mean they were invulnerable. The most common tropes of movies, television, magazines, etc., about how men were or should be did not take into account their humanity until well after romance novels did. Male vulnerability was either a sign of weakness or illness, or the result of a devastating event—not part of the normal, everyday world of men as human beings. Yes, I’m generalizing, but the exceptions only prove the rule.

“It seemed to me that men were liberated in romance novels long before they were in other media. So reading romance made me a little more sensitive to things my partner might not be showing or able to put in words. While it would be no fun if fictional characters opened up and solved things right away…romance novels taught me that open communication could work wonders.”

Sometimes, it’s the portrayal of the hero or heroine that causes the problem for the reader, one that can be overcome with a dose of common sense, reality, and humor. Some readers of romance do fall prey to the idea that Mr. Perfect will show up spontaneously, riding on a white horse (of course, of course), with marvelously groomed and suspiciously perfect hair and effortlessly minty breath, and as a result they miss some perfectly wonderful men in their real lives.

Kerrie says that her romance habits weren’t helpful initially, but were a huge asset when it came to real relationships: “The romances I read throughout high school and even into college didn’t do me any favors because they pushed that Mr. Perfect image that can never
EVER
exist in real life. I chased that ideal for a while and finally wised up when I found a totally imperfect but wonderful guy. One thing that those books did teach me, however, was communication! It can shorten the length of any misunderstanding.”

Of course, authors have learned from the experience of writing through conflict and witnessing it solved in their own lives. Romances have helped Debbie Macomber with her own relationships. She says: “Reading romance novels and writing them, too, has given me an optimistic attitude, a recognition that if a couple cares enough, they can work through their conflicts. I can honestly say that romance novels have helped me think positively about my Wayne. We have our differences, but we’re a team, working together toward our shared goals.”

Teresa Medeiros says that her own parents’ romance inspires her every day: “My own parents have spent fifty-plus years of marriage dealing with my mom’s bipolar disorder. When my dad said, ‘For better or worse, in sickness and in health,’ he meant it. Even though she’s now in a nursing home suffering from dementia, when he looks at her, he still sees the beautiful, brilliant girl he fell in love with all those years ago. That makes it so much easier for me to imagine my own characters growing old together while that first spark of passion deepens to a glowing ember, strong enough to last a lifetime.”

Christina Dodd says she receives a lot of comments from readers about hope and validation, and the possibility that bad things will get better, and that real and hurtful problems can be solved: “Readers thank me for giving them hope. This always makes my heart trill. Women, especially in these tough times, are getting the shit end of the stick, especially when they’re divorced or widowed or somehow left alone to raise their children. My stories are always about women who start out disadvantaged: poor, alone, helpless, badly treated, hopeless—any and all combinations. My heroines struggle against desperate odds, do what has to be done, and they make their way through the bad times until, by the end of the book, they have the life they want, the relationship they want, and the best sex in the history of the world. My heroines don’t usually start out strong, but they grow, change, and become the kind of people we readers strive to be. Readers thank me for shining a light on their own struggle and making them see the light at the end of the tunnel.

“Am I offering false hope? Well, I’ve been in the tunnel; it was a bitch to get out, but I’m on the other side. So it is possible.”

Dodd cautions that one single conversation would never really work to clear everything up as it does in a conveniently plotted novel: “I occasionally see readers online complain about romances in which any problems between the hero and heroine could be cleared up with ‘one open, honest conversation.’ And I think, ‘You know nothing about relationships. You’ve never been in one in your life.’

“As far as I’m concerned, to say, ‘The hero and heroine can clear up their problems with one conversation,’ is simplistic. Any author worth her beans is presenting the progress of a realistic relationship. Every relationship starts with both parties pretending they’re normal, witty, healthy, whole. As the relationship progresses and the hero and heroine get to know each other, the facade breaks down and truth starts leaking through. When a person has suffered physical and emotional trauma, to speak of that trauma is an act of unbelievable bravery, especially in a new, fragile, untried relationship. It’s a talk that has to be conducted for the relationship to flourish and true love to grow, but will the person you love so deeply scoff at your trauma? Laugh? Turn away? The uncertainty, the pain, and the anguish make it easier to avoid that conversation, even to turn away from the relationship rather than say anything. To talk about your problems with a beloved is an act of unimaginable courage. Words are powerful things; they can create or void trust, generate joy or pain, wound or heal.”

Kresley Cole says that reading about conflict and how any problem might possibly be solved can inspire readers to want more from their own relationships, and that seeing their own lives reflected in their fiction is a valuable experience for them: “They’ve thanked me for inspiring them to want—and to demand—more from their relationships. Which is a huge compliment since I take great pains to depict heroines who know what they want and refuse to settle for a ‘hero’ who hasn’t earned the title (by being truthful with her, respecting her needs, and demonstrating a willingness to make sacrifices for the sake of their partnership).”

Repeatedly reading about courtship and the problems facing each one also allows readers to see and consider problems that are solved in myriad patterns. This is part of the reason why romance readers turn to the stories of courtship again and again.

Painful issues that are present in modern life are also present in romance novels. Eloisa James incorporated the feelings surrounding infertility and feeling a desperate desire to have a child into her own books, which are set a few hundred years in the past, long, long ago, in a setting far, far away from modern scientific advancements: “I tend to put real grievances into the stories of my marriages, along with real fears. But I also look at my friends’ marriages. The best example is probably
Your Wicked Ways
. When I wrote that novel I had several close friends experiencing the pain of infertility, and going through the lengthy, painful medical processes that hope to reverse it. But their passion for motherhood was so strong that they were forging ahead, needles, hormones, and all.

“So that made me wonder what it would be like to feel that passionately back in the Regency period—if you were separated from your husband. What about if you were not only separated, but he was living with his mistress? And what if he said the only way he would impregnate you (to put it bluntly) was if you moved in the house along with the mistress? Would my friends have done it? Yup. So Helene did as well.

“That was a tough marriage to mend. Rees was terrible in bed and had to learn, slowly, how to actually make love as opposed to have sex. I have gotten a tremendous amount of mail about Rees over the years: many readers say it’s their favorite book; others hate him and can’t imagine why Helene fell back in love with him. A significant number have written to me about Rees’s attitude toward sex and how it parallels men they’ve met over the years.”

Seeing bad relationships improved can also help identify bad relationships in reality. Reader MD says that she “grew up with a very dysfunctional (and conservative) family, and for a while I liked the typical ‘big misunderstanding’ plots. From my point of view, they reflected reality. Plus the bodice rippers seemed to reflect some sort of reality as well, in the sense that the woman was the ‘good girl’ overcome by a hero or her own passion.

“The big change came for me when I started reading romance discussion boards, and heard people saying that such heroes are jerks in real life, and ‘why they don’t just talk to each other.’ Seeing these reactions from other people opened for me a new way to look at things. Eventually, it motivated me to get into therapy and learn better patterns and better relationships.”

One thing to remember, even in the fantasy-ripe environment of romance novels, is that not all problems can be solved. Sometimes, identifying them is enough of a lesson.

Author Sarah MacLean has a cautionary perspective. In real life, it’s not always possible to expect someone to make a huge change—though it can be done. And that possibility of hope is its own motivation, whether it’s motivation to read another page, or try another day: “Ninety percent of the time, in real life, a relationship is not going to change bad behavior. I must confess that I hold firm to the belief that, in general, leopards (or leopardesses) do not change their spots: neurotic, untrusting women will always be neurotic and untrusting; possessive, dominating men will always be dominating; laziness and lack of motivation does not go away; and cheaters will always lean toward cheating.

“Of course, romance novels are built on the idea that love conquers all and that a great relationship can evolve a hero or a heroine out of bad behavior and into the light—reformed rakes make the best husbands, do they not?