Novel Romance

January 29, 2015
Go forth and unfuck thine self.
I did indeed fuck myself. 
Nay, not like that.
Of course I do that too.
To misquote Louis CK ‘there are two kinds of people, people who say they masturbate and fucking liars.’
Shit, where were we.
Oh yes.
I picked up my first romance novel when I was 12.
Winterbourne by Susan Carroll.
Read it until it fell apart. No matter, the missing pages were burned into my skull.
The heroine had a deformity, as do it. 
There was hope for me.
This also explains my penchant for saying “aye” and “nay”.
I have notes and research to write one of my own and it could still happen. So far though, mine would end “and then he threw her under the bus”.
The formula.
1 heroine + 1 hero / conflict x miscommunication (to the power of a million) + wars (internal and external) + time + epic sex = 3% conclusion ie. Happily ever after.
It’s the 3% that eludes me and we have no instruction manual for. Nor much interest in.
Who would read a book that went “they met, fell in love and then lived their lives together until they died. Awesome, the end”?
No one, the answer is no one.
“The Bible? Oh that’s over in bestsellers, next to Twilight” (Easy A)
Case and point. Second book, hero thinks he is doing the heroine a favour by fucking off to save her from his darkness. Sorry Edward, she kinda knew what she was getting into, broody sparkle stalker inner rage and all. They spend most of 563 pages depressed and self-destructive.
At least it’s her doing the rescuing at the end of that one.
But still. Nay fucking nay.
Give me Jane Burnham and Ricky Fitz.
Give me Pat and Tiffany.
Give me Ethan Waite and Lena Duchannes.
First example. Just good old fashioned compatible. You can just see the sigh of ‘oh there you are, I was looking for you’. (not a book but it’s my blog, I can do as I please)
Second? Same same, similar psychosis. Ya, the timing was a little off, but they figured it out in fairly good time and then had biscotti and snuggles and football.
Third. And still probably the most satisfying 60 seconds of a movie ending ever. Goosebumps galore.
She dug her heels in, pushed and pushed and pushed some more and had help pushing. He just stayed strong and loved her anyways. Accepted and adored everything she was. “it’s the boy who protects her now”. Yes, this.
Still under a year from the day they met until…
The glorious end.

I hereby rescind my accidental misguided agreement with the universe that things have to be hard to be worth it. 
I have 26 years of waiting that I would like to cash in for a fresh start. I have the same amount of time invested in conflict that I would like to trade for, well, happily ever after. 

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