Tag Archives: reading

What keeps you reading? Romance edition part 2

On Monday, we talked about the draw of uncertainty in romance. There needs to be an element of uncertainty or conflict between the hero and heroine of a romance for readers to be truly vested and interested in the outcome. Predictability is anathema to a story question.

But sometimes, there isn’t conflict between our leads. Sometimes, the romance between them blossoms and grows without too many problems. I think the potential problem here is obvious—even the description sounds boring.

When the course of true love actually does run smooth, we still need conflict. External conflict is good—but if the story is, at its heart, a romance (or possibly a romance hybrid, like romantic suspense), that external conflict really should impact the developing relationship in some way.

Rather than continuing to speak in the abstract, let’s get concrete. A story where Lucy meets Gary, they fall in love and live happily ever after doesn’t sound compelling. Monday, our example was of Lucy meeting Gary and neither of them could tell—and perhaps weren’t sure themselves—whether they would get together, or how the other felt about him/her.

Today, our example is more along the lines of Lucy meets Gary, and Gary is a cop investigating a murder. It’s possible to write a story where the external plot basically has nothing to do with Lucy and Gary’s relationship. I wouldn’t advise that if you’re trying to write a story with the romance as a main plot. Instead, search for ways for the external plot to intersect with the romance plot.

To my mind, there are two basic categories of this intersection: where the external plot pits the hero and heroine against one another, and where the external plot simply gets in the way of their relationship.

For an example of the external plot pitting the hero against the heroine, we’ll go back to Lucy and Officer Gary. Lucy and Gary meet, and they hit it off—until Lucy has information about Gary’s homicide case that she just can’t tell him. Kaye Dacus did this subtly—the police officer hero didn’t have to directly confront the heroine he was investigating—in Love Remains. I do it in at least one of my manuscripts—the heroine has information about the criminals the hero is tracking, but she’s trying to protect him from those criminals, so she steers him away from them at every opportunity.

Alternatively, you could have the external plot simply getting in the way of their relationship. Officer Gary’s murder case interrupts Lucy and Gary’s first date. He stands her up when questioning a witness takes too long. He has to prove his commitment to the relationship by finding a balance between his work life and Lucy. (This isn’t a great example, because that’s kind of life when you’re with a cop, and PS catching a murderer is pretty important, but you get the idea.)

Finally, another way to add a level of conflict to what would be a smooth-course romance—possibly as a subset of the second type of external conflict/love story intersection—is to forbid the romance. This one is a bit harder to do in a contemporary, but many historical settings have rigid rules of fraternization and marriage. However, we can borrow a contemporary example from Shakespeare—their families are enemies, or simply do not understand one another’s cultures. Another contemporary example might be having the hero or heroine already dating someone else, especially someone close to the “real” love interest (best friend, brother, roommate, etc.).

I use this technique in a pretty specialized way in one of my manuscripts: the hero is a priest—or at least the heroine believes he is. (And yes, this is the same MS I mentioned three paragraphs ago. Seriously—read the excerpt and it’ll make more sense.)

What do you think? How do you use external conflict (or like to see it used) to add conflict between the hero and heroine in a romance?

Photo by Paul Morgan

What keeps you reading? Romance edition

This week: the return of Writing Wednesday!

I like reading. (Gasp! Shock!) However, I’ve become pickier and pickier in my reading. I no longer feel compelled to finish a book just because I started it. I have waaay too many books waiting that might be better to waste time slogging through something I don’t enjoy. And after all, isn’t that why I read? Because I enjoy it?*

So I really appreciate that the reading public’s eye-time is valuable, and I know that I have to do all I can to make any eye-time I get worthwhile. I’m always interested in what it is that keeps people reading, myself included. To me, characterspeople I care about—and mysteries—questions the story has raised that I want to see answered—are key in getting me to read on.

The “mystery” in a romance should be fairly obvious: will they get together or won’t they? I think it can work well to have the intended couple obvious toward the beginning of the story, but sometimes, it seems like the developing romance is a foregone conclusion—even to the characters. A total lack of conflict between the couple throughout the book raises no questions in my mind about the outcome. To put it bluntly: I lose interest.

Don’t get me wrong: I don’t care for a couple that squabbles bitterly throughout a novel only to do a complete 180 in the last ten pages. I don’t hold out much hope for them. But I need to be wondering about the outcome to feel compelled to read to find out what happens.

This weekend, Livia Blackburne posted a fascinating study on uncertainty in romance: when college-aged women were shown profiles of men who’d seen and rated the women’s profiles, the women were most attracted to the men when they were not told whether the men had rated them average or highly.

The uncertainty made all the difference—the women who were told the men (imaginary, by the way) rated them highly were interested, but not as much as the uncertain women. The uncertain women also reported thinking about the men more often.

For a writer, uncertainty is a powerful tool, and not just in romance. The uncertainty in any story question is a major factor in keeping people reading, and the question of a developing relationship is the biggest draw in a romance (which, it should be noted, is heavily read by women, of course).

Sometimes, though, uncertainty isn’t as viable an option. We’ll need another source of suspense in the romance, but we’ll talk about what to do in those situation—next time (Friday, I hope).

What do you think? What keeps you reading a romance?

*Enjoying reading, to me, doesn’t mean that I have to read something less-than-serious. I enjoy “thinky literature” as well as “mindless escapist genre novels” (and there’s no condescension intended!).

Photo by Courtney Carmody