You'll have to excuse my lack of blogging lately. To be honest, I've kind of spiraled into depression because my life is no longer funny. My mother has gone completely haywire, engaging is such shocking behaviors as forgetting about her self-diagnosed plastic allergy, wandering outside in her bathrobe, and watching reruns of King of Queens on TV Land. (If you know my mother, you are perfectly aware that she has never watched anything but PBS. Ever.) No. 1 is graduating from high school and will soon leave the nest. Its become abundantly clear that the only way I'm going to stay afloat financially for the next few years is to sell one of my kidneys on eBay. And, worst of all, I have turned 40.
See, I told you it wasn't funny.
My traditional coping mechanism of denial is highly effective, but exhausting to maintain so I have taken to escapism. I watch a lot of Netflix and read a lot, and have found that the more fluffy the subject matter, the more enjoyable my escapism can be. For example, watching the first three seasons of Sons of Anarchy didn't help. The characters who had moral compasses to begin with either lost them or died in knife fights, and then my husband just HAD to have a motorcycle. I have always loved historical fiction and spy novels, but they tend to be full of death, suffering, and betrayal which make for compelling fiction but at the end up the day don't do much to perk me up. But if I watch something like, say, A Cinderella Story, I feel like a million bucks afterwords. Everyone lives happily after, and Hilary Duff isn't even on crack. I love books by Marian Keyes and Meg Cabot but I am too poor to buy them and don't have a car any more (add that little item to my list of reasons to be depressed), and one can only borrow one's teenage daughter's car so often before one feels pathetic, plus I would have to change out of my sweatpants to go to the library (despite four years in upstate New York, I still adhere to my personal standards about wearing sweats in public).
So I did what any other broke, depressed person with a Kindle would do and started reading a lot of free downloads, which made me realize there's a whole lot of bad writing out there being passed off and even sometimes appreciated is if it is Dickens. This got me thinking: Maybe instead of selling one of my kidneys, I should just write romance novels. It can't be that hard, can it? You just have to include the following:
A Generic Plot
90% of romance novels have the same basic plot.
Plot #1: Two people meet in high school (or college, if you're trying to shake things up) and it isn't just love, its true love. They are separated by tragic circumstances, usually an interfering relative, and neither one has been able to find happiness, fulfillment, or any meaning in their lives ever since. The hero has coped with this by sleeping with everyone he meets; the heroine has thrown herself into her career and has pretty much not left the house otherwise. Our lovers are reunited and overcome their bitterness, hurt, and tragic circumstances/interfering relatives to live happily ever after.
Plot #2: Two people enter into an engagement or marriage as part of a bet, deal, or other bargain in order to keep their inheritance, save their small business, or keep custody of their adorable and precocious love child. This plot works best if one of them is very rich. They overcome tragic circumstances/interfering relatives and discover true love, making their marriage real and living happily ever after.
Plot #3: Any combination of plots one and two.
Somebody Has to Have a Ridiculous Name
You can use a popular name with an odd spelling, like KarrLeigh, or a name that is unpopular for a good reason, like Sybil. You can also make a variation on a popular name, like Zavid or Pennifer. Another option is to mash names together, like Renesmee, and people won't think its ridiculous at all. No, really, they won't. If all else fails, just make something up. Berznat isn't any worse than some of the names that are already out there. Traditional names are perfectly acceptable as long as they are offset by something totally silly, like having a couple named Elizabeth and Blaze.
The Hero Must be Physically Perfect
Your heroine can have physical flaws - although its better for her to possess debilitating insecurity and a complete lack of awareness of her own charm and beauty - but the man can't. His six pack should be so defined you can clearly see the delineation of his muscles even when he is wearing a shirt. I don't believe I have ever seen such a thing in real life, but let's not allow that to bother us. Be sure to use the following adjectives as often as possible: bulging, taut, corded, and sinewy.
Superlative Use of Superlatives
Use the words "never" and "ever" at least once a paragraph. Also, you can never have too many exclamation points. Remember, this book is exciting! Its the best book ever written! And your readers have never read anything better! They want to hear all about how no one has ever known love and tenderness like this, never ever, in the history of all mankind!
Bad Metaphors
Example: An irate Reginald swept through the house, spewing fury like a shopaholic denied the last pair of Louboutins at a sample sale.
*or*
Kelly gazed at Shad longingly and lovingly over the burger bar, the aroma of guacamole filling the air and permeating every fiber of her being like a bomb of tear gas. (Apparently, I am such a great writer I can't even come up with good bad metaphors. I'll have to work on that.)
So there you have it: Everything you need to write your own romance novel. You can thank me later, after your story has been picked up by Harlequin and is being sold at Wal-Marts everywhere for $1.99.
