Back in January, I wrote about finally being able to like rom-coms again. I was also reading romance novels and liking a few. In the late ’80s and throughout the ’90s, rom-com movies were my thing. I couldn’t get enough of Meg Ryan’s cutesy on-screen image or Nora Ephron’s sharp writing.
Then a bad relationship soured me. He’d seemed perfect until I discovered he was anything but. I should have walked away after nine months…two years, tops. Unfortunately, I’d been raised in a bubble where no one got divorced and the words “for better or for worse” meant everything.
“Worse” should never include abuse. I finally escaped that horrid relationship after seven years, emotionally beaten down and battered.
Love was a bunch of hogwash.
I saw through rom-coms and their happy endings. Sometimes I felt especially disheartened, sensing that the couple was not meant to be together. Why would I cheer when they made up after a breakup? Why in hell would I want them meeting at the altar?
I credited my new boyfriend for making me a believer again. I was in love, I’d learned from my past and I felt secure in thinking we would go the distance. Let’s watch rom-coms! Bring on the romance novels! Happily ever after yet again! Why would I want it any other way?
Two months later, my two-year forever love went kaput. I hadn’t seen it coming. I still can’t explain where or why things went wrong.
I should be repulsed by rom-coms and romances again…for a while at least. I mean, I’d flown from Vancouver to Denver for a two-week visit and he dumped me ten minutes into the ride from the train station where he picked me up. It also happened to be Valentine’s Day.
F%#k love, right?!
Happily ever after, my ass. Utter bullshit. Enough with the Hollywood endings. Life—mine, at least—looks nothing like that.
At the time, I was muddling through the middle of writing a gay romance novel. The logical thing would have been to set it aside or kill off one of the two main characters. So long romance; hello, murder mystery.
Let the survivor go on, living triumphantly on his own. Let him realize love is but a distraction from greatness. Or it’s fleeting, at most.
But I wrote on while trying to recover from a severe case of What Just Happened? as The Supremes’ “Where Did Our Love Go?” played on repeat in my mind.
My fictional characters, Jeremy and Shaw, had problems and broke up, too. Conflict is a fundamental element in fiction while something I avoid at all costs IRL. Still, I set aside jadedness and cynicism. I shrugged off the dumping as best I could and told myself it would not impact Jeremy and Shaw.
I couldn’t control my relationship and its demise, but I had full authorial command over my world of make believe, playing out in an expanding manuscript. Not once did I think they were forever doomed. Never did I wish my woes on them. I rooted for them, even when they were apart. They needed to grow, together and separately. They needed to realize how much love they had between them and take action to not just restore but strengthen it.
I am pleased to report I finished the first draft today. SPOILER ALERT: happy ending. It’s not actually a spoiler at all. Romance novels are required to end with Happily Ever After or, at a minimum, Happy For Now. If I could, I’d escape real life and jump into a rom-com or romance novel. With my luck, I’d be nothing more than a supporting character, the Rosie O’Donnell to Meg Ryan or the Rupert Everett to Julia Roberts.
But, no. Jumping into a rom-com is not possible. In life, I’m solidly single. I’m fortunate that my novel lets me play around and imagine what might have been. I’m truly happy for Jeremy and Shaw.
As I do with all my novel first drafts, I’m setting this manuscript aside for the next six months. It creates some distance between the characters, the plot, the word choices, the tone and me. When I open up the document again in April, I hope I will still see a spark in the work. I hope I’ll still like both Jeremy and Shaw as individuals and love them as a couple. I hope I will see enough in them and the work to dive into the challenging process of revision with the intention of making the story even stronger.
Right now, Jeremy and Shaw can just sit back and relax. For the next half year, they have no more conflicts or challenges. They are firmly in love. Let them savor that. Let me step away from their love while I focus on a new project. Something involving a sad-sack character. Something I can authentically write.
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