A + B = C

I love to read and I read a lot. In fact, sometimes I read so much I forget exactly what I’ve read. This was recently brought to my attention as I attempted to update my abandoned Shelfari bookshelf. Without the assistance of my Amazon purchase history, I would’ve been missing at least seven books.

Currently I’ve been enjoying the works of Tom Clancy and the memoirs of Eugene Sledge. Every once in a while, however, I indulge in some smutty romance. There is a reason harlequin romance novels exist and thrive. They've found a perfect, fool-proof novel template and an ever changing audience.

It goes something like this: Take one insanely hot, independent but struggling woman, add rough and rugged, devilishly handsome, misunderstood and/or damaged man with a hidden heart of gold, throw them together in a difficult situation with lots of sexual tension and make sure one, if not both of them, have a devastating secret. Escalate the sexual tension for the first third of the book. In the middle third they hook up or at a minimum grow incredibly close and attached to each other (how smutty this gets depends on the publisher and ranges from PG to X-rated). At the beginning of the final third of the book the world must come tumbling down around them. Either their secret pasts come back to haunt them, or the woman is kidnapped, or there is a car accident or some kind of traumatic situation. This plays out until the last chapter where they realize that true love can indeed overcome it all and they'll live happily ever after.

Totally sappy stuff, right? Why do I find myself suckered into reading it? Part of that ever changing audience? I'm really not sure. Especially when half the time I'm annoyed at the stupidity of the heroine. The last book I read, however had a new twist that had me applauding the author.

It's a classic scene, in movies, books and probably in real life, heroine sees hero (or vice versa) in a compromising position and instead of finding out what is really happening, jumps to conclusions and runs away. In this case, the guy and girl go to a dance club. While the girl steps out to make a phone call the guy's ex approaches and asks for a dance. He figures there is no harm in being nice and they share a dance. The ex doesn't want to leave it at that. Next thing he knows she's all over him with her legs wrapped around his waist as she attempts to suck face. Of course, this is when the girl walks back in and normally the drama would ensue. I was pleasantly surprised when instead the girl laughed at the ex, made fun of her sexual prowess (to quote "Look! You didn't even give him a hard on."),assured her that she'd better stay off her man in the future, and then proceeded to attempt to beat the crap out of her. No woe is me, feeling sorry for herself bs for that girl!

I think this genre thrives mostly because relationships are hard. They don’t tie up with a pretty little bow at the end of the day. Sometimes we just want to have that fantasy where the man really does dote on our very existence and he proves it through actions not empty words. Where he calls just to say, “I was thinking about you.” Where flowers and poetry are given from the depths of the heart rather than the marketing influence of FTD. Where all that really matters is the safety and serenity found in sharing yourself with the one you love and the priceless gift of having them share themselves in return.