This is the anti-romance rant I was BORN to write. ::snicker:: Okay, so it’s the two divorces, but still.
For the longest time, I refused to read romance novels. They’re more fictitious than the most bizarre paranormal. Why? Because there’s always a happily ever after. I’m sorry, but that’s total bullshit, and this is why.
You meet a guy. In a very short period of time, you fall in love. Quickly thereafter you get pregnant, have the baby, get married. This happens against all odds because he spends time in jail, has an ex who won’t go away, and your parents don’t like him. It’s a true love story because you overcome adversity, have the most beautiful baby boy in the entire world, and buy an amazing house to share your life in.
And that’s where the romance novel ends. Literally and figuratively. Novels don’t generally venture past this point in a relationship because it is at this point reality sets in. You realize you don’t know each other well. You like to stay home, he wants to go out all the time. You hate his friends, he hates yours. He goes out with said friends all the time. But you know the truth. None of his friends where that scent of perfume…
No one wants to read that shit. They don’t want to read how the love is beaten, bruised, and battered until someone stands up and screams ENOUGH!!!!
And that’s where the next romance novel begins. Two lovers, torn apart by adversity, raising a child in separate homes. They still love each other deep down, still dream about making their family a full one, no replacements, just the real deal. Pretty words are spoken. Hope blossoms. But ya know what? It’s still bullshit. You can’t. Change. People. Once a hermit, always a hermit. Once a cheater, always a cheater. Don’t give me this, “I changed for you!” bullshit in real life or novels. It’s cheap. If your characters have a sordid past, they have to change for themselves, not each other. Otherwise, it’s more unbelievable than an angel falling from heaven and falling madly in love with me.