1. DON’T TAKE PEOPLE FOR GRANTED
Whether it’s your parents, your partner, or your favorite train conductor, the people in your life won’t always be there. It’s reassuring to think so, that the people who make your life warm and whole will always be with you, but the truth is, life is far too uncertain to make that kind of guarantee—so you shouldn’t take the people in your life for granted. Ever.
You never know when a tycoon may sweep you onto his yacht, or when a last will and testament of an aunt you didn’t know you had might indicate you stand to inherit a huge palatial property in the Canary Islands—provided you marry a prince and live in that palatial property with your worst enemy and a dog named Doof. Kidnappings, ghost possessions, vampire infestations, getting fired, opening a bake shop and finding out the recipes are all witchcraft, one-night stands in bathrooms at an ex-girlfriend’s wedding…look, these things happen. Conflict happens.
Not only should you be prepared for conflict, but you should know that each day brings the chance for more of it-billionaires are not much for advanced warning when they arrive on their yachts with plans for blackmail.
Not only should you be prepared for conflict, but you should know that each day brings the chance for more of it—billionaires are not much for advanced warning when they arrive on their yachts with plans for blackmail. With the chance for changes ahoy each day, it’s important that you stop yourself every now and again from presuming that every morning will be like the one before.
Acknowledge the people you like. Merely going through the motions of your routine does nothing to communicate to others how you think of them. So thank people for being spiffy, and find ways to express that you’re glad someone is in your life, whether it’s the bus driver who always says good morning with a smile, or the person who makes the coffee every single evening and sets the timer so that when the alarm goes off, it’s ready.
Demonstrating love and affection for a significant other in a romance is part of courtship, particularly the part that might involve sex. But you most commonly see characters realizing that they’re taking someone they care about for granted in plots that involve family as part of the cast of characters—it is very easy to take your family for granted, after all—or in stories where the hero and heroine have been friends for a very, very long time, and suddenly find themselves at a point of massive change or departure—he’s leaving, she’s sick of being alone, whatever.
Being in the habit of saying “Thank you,” of making sure that people receive attention so they know you value them, of not presuming that people will always be there—this is a good habit, regardless of whether you’re in a relationship or still hoping to find a person who makes you happy in your pants and your brain.
Consider this: The Be Polite Rule: Don’t be a douchebag. Make sure the people who are important to you receive attention for being awesome. There’s plenty of crapful behavior on the part of random douchebags in a given day—make sure to give virtual and actual high-fives to those who rock and rock hard.
2. SAY IT NOW
One of the most enduring lessons I learned about love was not from a romance novel, but from a romance author. A long time ago, I wanted to write romance—before I realized my writing strength may not be in writing fiction. When I first started meeting romance authors and going to romance conferences back in 2002, I volunteered to pick up authors at the airport before the New Jersey Romance Writer’s convention, and ended up driving bestselling author Teresa Medeiros to the hotel from the airport. She is, if you’ve never met her, among the nicest people you’ll ever meet, and her books are good too—a total bonus.
Teresa had to call her husband to let him know she arrived safely, so there we were, flying down the New Jersey Turnpike, me, Teresa, and bestselling author (and later RWA President) Gayle Wilson. Teresa made her call, and ended the call by saying, “I love you.”
Now, this may not seem like a big deal, but at the time, I was newly married, a little shy (okay, a lot shy), and would not have been able to tell my husband on the phone that I loved him in front of two strangers. I don’t think Gayle Wilson cared in the least but I, personally, was so impressed.
I should mention that I’d misplaced the directions to the hotel and we had to call from the car to get them from the hotel—and I did almost tell the hotel front desk clerk that I loved her, if only because she saved me from more embarrassment.
But I continued to think about Medeiros and her phone call, and to this day, I don’t hang up the phone with my husband without telling him I love him, even when I know he can’t say it back to me.
Say it now. Don’t save it. Right now is the most important moment to tell someone you value them and think they are made of awesome with sauce.
Consider this: The Medeiros Rule: Never miss an opportunity to tell someone or communicate to someone that they are loved.
3. IT’S NOT ALL ABOUT YOU
If there is one lesson inherent in romance novels that is important for every person, regardless of gender, to internalize and believe to the utmost, it is the idea that you are valuable, you are important, and your happiness is important. As reader Liz says in a discussion of hero and heroine traits, “You are valuable. You are important. We will never forget that about each other. That’s romance, to me.”
Yet with all these chapters that examine how romance has helped readers identify what they want in a relationship, and all the plots that rest on establishing and knowing one’s own worth, I have some important words about your happily-ever-after: it’s not all about you.
No, really, it’s not all about you. Consider Liz’s words, which I think of as The Liz Rule: “You are valuable. You are important. We will never forget that about each other.” Part of being in a relationship that is solid and mature is making sure the other person knows they are valuable in your eyes. The most important relationship you might have is indeed with yourself, but all that self-love can get lonely and unsatisfying if you don’t also know how to communicate to someone else how valuable they are to you.
HEALING THROUGH BOOKS
BY ANONYMOUS
For some, romance novels are not only a lifeline and escape, they are a guideline, proof somehow that a happy ending is possible. The following is a painful, somewhat graphic, and very honest person’s account of how romance novels have been a meaningful part of her life. She wrote this as part of a personal recovery exercise, but gave me permission to share it so long as I protected her identity.
When I was ten years old, eleven, twelve, I needed to get away. I so desperately needed it, every time my mom’s boyfriend would come into my room and rape me, because I couldn’t stand to be there and face what was going on. It was too much for me, to be in this world. So, I found some place else I could be, some place I was safe and okay. Some place I was loved and cared about. Some place no one would hurt me, and where good would always, always triumph over evil. And I found it in the pages of books.
I remember the first time I actually jumped into a book. It was a children’s mystery book, about a group of friends who wanted to find out what was in the dark, old house on their street, where they’d seen shadows. And I remember reading it, and feeling in the house, exploring it with them. It was so real to me; I could smell the mold and feel the spiderwebs clinging to my arms as I walked through the dark hallway. I could feel the fear of the “ghost” or whatever was in there (it was a parrot, haha), the excitement of a new discovery. I was instantly transported to another world, a world where everything was okay, and I didn’t have to be afraid.
Through that hardest time of my life, I read. I read day and night. I read whenever I could get my hands on a book, because I didn’t want to be in the real world. I hated the real world. I needed to get away. And I did. Many times, when he would get to me at night, I found myself thinking about the stories I’d read, about the worlds I’d visited, and it kept me from hurting so much at that moment. It didn’t work every time, but whenever it did, i
t was relief from all the pain.
For the first few years after the abuse, I think I was in shock, because I didn’t process what happened. It was like a faded distant memory, the abuse. I didn’t think about it at all. Because, really, I didn’t have time to think. Because I read. All the time. One book after another. I was never without a book. I remember going to school and reading through classes, reading in the car on my way home, at the lunch—and dinner—table, waking up early on a weekend to read and staying up late to read. It was all books, books, and books (with the eventual TV show!). And I went through this period of my life so smoothly, thanks to God and thanks to books, because, honestly, I don’t know what would have happened to me if I’d had to deal with the aftermath of abuse at thirteen, fourteen, fifteen.
When I was fifteen, it finally dawned on me about the abuse. And not only did I keep reading (a lot!), I started writing. I knew when I was eleven that I wanted to be an author when I grew up, because I loved telling stories, because they took me away from the world, and, most importantly, because I wanted to give other people that needed it a safe place to go. I wrote short stories, created my own characters, my own worlds. I kept reading too. I read and I read and I read through the following years. The summer of when I was seventeen, I read seventeen books in a month. It could have been a miserable summer; instead, it was fun and free. I wasn’t alone, ever, because I had characters to keep me company. I wasn’t sad, because the books made me laugh. I wasn’t bored, because, hello? Books! It was one of the greatest summers of my life.
In my late teens, I was going through a huge turmoil. I was extremely confused because I knew exactly what had happened to me, I remembered all of it, and I didn’t know how that affected me. I kept seeing at abuse groups how messed up people were, and I didn’t want to be like that. I kept seeing how easy it was to give in and feel sorry for yourself, and I didn’t want to be like that. So I read. And when I read, I found characters who’d gone through some of the same things I had. Characters who had become strong, independent, healed women, despite what had happened to them. And I looked up to those women. That’s what I wanted to be like, not a great big mess. I wanted to be okay! And, in books, I found a way to do that. Little steps, but these fictional characters helped me follow the right path.
Later things got even more complicated. I made a lot of bad decisions. I did some really stupid things. I started having my bipolar crisis, which left me in a state where I couldn’t control myself. I felt the world was falling apart, and there was just no way to stop it. And I wanted out. I wanted out of here ASAP. But there were books. And not only did books take me away when I really needed to get out of here—I could do it temporarily instead of permanently—but they gave me a reason to live. I mean, how could I possibly kill myself when there were so many books for me to read? So many characters to discover? So many worlds to see? I couldn’t. And I lived, one day after the other.
I can’t count the times I’ve wanted to die, really wanted to die, and instead, I grabbed a book and flipped through the pages, looking for comfort, for care and understanding. Crying, so many times I sat crying, because those words on the page were the only understanding I’d ever gotten, because they were the only company I had, the only “friends” who didn’t look at me superficially and neglected to see my pain. I’d sit there, biting my lip so hard it bled, reading the same pages over and over and over, because there was a happy ending—and if she could have a happy ending, she who was so hurt by her family, by that guy, by that serial killer, by life itself—then so could I. If a “hero” looked at her and saw beyond her scars, if he didn’t care that she was sexually abused, that she was messed up, there could be a guy like that for me, couldn’t there? I wouldn’t want to miss that. So I lived to find out. And I still do.
When I say books saved me, I’m not exaggerating. If it weren’t for books—that gave me comfort, friendship, understanding, and hope—I don’t think I would have survived through everything I did. They make it all seem worthy, you know? It’s like, no matter what you go through in your life, how hard it is, how messed up, there’s always hope, there’s always someone, there’s always a happy ending. And, believing that makes me go on.
I wonder if authors know how much their words matter, how much they can truly change someone’s life. In the last year, I’ve started reading authors’ blogs, and I see them struggling to get the words on the page, sometimes exhausted, sometimes annoyed, sometimes over it. I know they ask themselves, sometimes, whether it’s worth it, to give everything of themselves, for sometimes shitty pay and bad reviews (even when their books are great!). I wish I could tell them all that there’s someone out there, someone who needs to get away from the world, someone who’s hurting more than they can handle, maybe someone who is thinking about killing themselves and looking for a reason not to, who is going to pick up their book tonight and let it be their safe haven. Who will forget the pain for a while, and just go to another world. They’re going to meet new people. They get to not be themselves for a while, and sometimes, that’s what they need the most. Maybe they’ll find a reason to live. Sometimes, I want to write a note to every author I’ve read during my hardest times. A single sentence: “Thank you for saving my life.”
“Without books, I wouldn’t be here today. I wouldn’t be as healed…With books you’re never alone. Books are friends.”—ANONYMOUS, A READER
Many years later, I still want to be an author. I want, more than anything, to give someone a safe place to go, give them freedom, friends, love, and understanding. I want to save lives. So to answer your question, what helped me the most in the process of healing were books. Stories. Fictional stories with great characters and happy endings. Without books, I wouldn’t be here today. I wouldn’t be as healed. And I am. I’ve come such a long way. With books you’re never alone. Books are friends.
The Final Chapter: The Happy Ending Starts…Now
If you’re the type of person who skips to the end of a book, you’re in luck. I’m going to summarize everything about this book in one easy chapter. Here you go, the low-fat, high-fiber summary of everything you need to know about romance as found in the awesome romance section of your local bookstore.
Romance is how we treat each other, and how we treat ourselves.
Romance is a habit, much like Vince Lombardi said of winning. It is not presuming that the people who love you know that you love them, nor assuming that they will always be around you. Romance is demonstrating in as many ways as possible, through actions, words, and intentions, that the people you love are important, valuable, and necessary.
Romance is also in how you treat yourself: with compassion, kindness, respect, and understanding. It is important to know what you want, and to ask for it, because you are valuable and important as well.
LIFE LESSONS HIDDEN IN ROMANCE NOVELS
AMNESIAC TWINS Truthfulness and self-identification are very important. Otherwise, you might go out to find yourself, and return to find you’re already there. That would be confusing.
COWBOY HEROES A quiet, loner dude who wears well-fitting Wranglers and possibly chaps without irony or embarrassment can be a fine, fine specimen of manhood, particularly if his job is to care for a few hundred thousand animals. Care-giving in the harshest of elements speaks volumes.
BIG MISUNDERSTANDINGS Oh, come on now. This is obvious. What do you mean you don’t know what I’m thinking? I’m not telling you, so you have to figure it out on your own.
DUKES, DUCHESSES, EARLS, COUNTESSES, AND ALL THE OTHER TITLES The real riches in life aren’t physical things or letters before or after your names. They are found in the person standing next to you, cracking jokes in a receiving line that’s two miles and six hours long.
CROSS DRESSING Look, if you are a twenty-four-year-old woman who can fit in a twelve-year-old boy’s clothing, more power to you. You don’t need a romance novel. But you might want to eat a sandwich or two.
TIME TRAVEL No matter where y
ou go, there you are. Ha. Kidding. The life lesson hidden in time-travel romance is that the first thing you will miss when you find yourself a few dozen years forward or back is your toothbrush.
Romance is in the small moments and the motivation behind a quiet gift or action. Demonstrating your affection does not necessarily mean chartering a yacht to sail around the world. A big chocolaty, flowery gesture of Valentine cliché does not automatically equal romance. But filling her gas tank when you notice it’s empty, or cooking his favorite meal after a really crappy day at work—all those little moments combine to portray a clear affection. The gesture is not the romance; the motivation for the gesture is.
ROMANCE IS NOT ALL ABOUT YOU
As I wrote in an article for Tango magazine, romance is not about getting some; it’s about giving some. Romance does require that you understand your own needs and wants, but it’s equally important to notice and acknowledge the desires and needs of the person you’re with—or the person you want to be with. Romance is valuing the other person’s happiness as much as you value your own.
ROMANCE MEANS ROUTINE CARE AND MAINTENANCE
You can’t drive cross-country without gas in the tank, and you can’t have a happily-ever-after without simple care and feeding of your relationship. You can’t take people for granted, and you can’t ignore those small moments of appreciation and acknowledgement. Romance can be as simple as saying “Please” and “Thank you.” For example: Please know that your being here makes me happy. Thank you for making me smile.
ROMANCE MEANS LOVING SOMEONE FOR WHO THEY ARE, RIGHT NOW
Everything I Know about Love I Learned from Romance Novels Page 15
