My Romance Hero

I read an interesting article recently. It was about the characterizations in the romance genre books - why we like the type of romance hero or heroine that we do. Because something about that character speaks to something in our own make-up. Duh. Yes, obvious, but the interesting - and painful - part lies in having our own personal quirks revealed to us. I always used to wonder why I was so inordinately fond of the stereotypical heroes who wenched, drank, cursed, and brawled as if tomorrow's sins had to be all got out of the way today. Well, now I know.

More difficult to understand though is why I so heartily loathe the coy-show heroines that drop the dots at every crucial juncture - I...love....you, to...give....you....an example. I mean these and the no-dots-necessary heroes really go together like yin and yang, right? If one didn't have the other, who else would tolerate each after all?

I mean I know I wouldn't - fact and fiction have always remained in separate cupboards for me. In fact it's kind of hilarious how much fiction astounds me in fact. I'm not as smart as I think, but I'm certainly naiver than I had thought. And I know I would run a mile if I ever actually encountered my favorite romance hero - in the opposite direction, I mean.

Not that there would be any real and present danger of the fellow chasing after me - he did have to notice me in the first place - and I'm not enough of a dot-dropper to deserve notice.

But I'm not grieving too deeply. As someone wise once said, "Be care of what you wish for - you might end up with it."

And if you're wise yourself, you really don't want to be ending up with someone whose theme song is 'Eighteen till I die'. I mean, you know, young at heart is one thing, but young in the brain department something entirely else.

But maybe I'm being a trifle unkind here. The guy can't be such a bum. He's terrifically rich and powerful and everyone defers to him. Or he's about to become terrifically rich and powerful and everyone defers to him. Or at least middle-class and a great favorite with the neighbors. I haven't yet met a Romance Hero who is terrifically poor, stuck in a rut, and determined to stick there, come hell or high water or the heroine. He may start out in that fashion, but you can be sure he will give up the notion before 'The End'. Because, it is a known fact that Romance Heroines, practical creatures that they really are for all the unpractical quirks, don't gravitate towards financial losers. I... love you and I'll stand... by you doesn't actually extend to... sharing the ramshackle shack.... happily ever after.

And that's why some of the most popular Romance Heroes are Arab Sheikhs - it's impossible to be poor when you have all that oil. There was this English writer Edith Maude Hull who wrote THE definitive book on this mad theme - it's called 'The Sheik' and it is one horrible book. I can't understand the enormous popularity that it achieved in its hey day - it even provided box-office fodder for a couple of Hollywood movies. Quite Incredible. Kidnapping, humiliation, and subjugation are not my idea of romance. Even my favorite Alpha Hero doesn't behave that way and certainly even the corresponding heroine - what's the last letter of the Greek Alphabet? - wouldn't stand for it.

A friend of mine likes to fantasize about Knights on white chargers charging straight at her. Not of the Arab or Crusader variety - just, well, a Knightly variety nightly. He scoops her up into the saddle and they ride off into the sun set, where they....

"Eat Strawberries!" she chimed. "All the Strawberries in the saddle bag. I love Strawberries!"

"Let's give him a Strawberry Farm," I suggested. "So a Strawberry Farm owner who rides - when he isn't hoeing and weeding and watering, that is."

"That doesn't sound very romantic," she said doubtfully.

"Well, we mustn't lose sight entirely of reality," I said. "How else is the guy to provide us with an endless supply of Strawberries?"

"We?" she repeated annoyed, "Us? Hey, listen, this is my guy, not ours, you get one of your own."

"I did," I said with a sigh. "He's hunting rare insects in the Amazon Basin."

"Why?"

"Strawberries never occurred to me."

"Well, you're not very smart, are you?"

"I guess not."

"Never mind," she said. "Just kill him off - have one of those insects bite him - you can't live on insects after all, can you? - a person has to eat wholesomely, you know."

I looked at her with respect.

"You should write a book," I said. "I'm sure it would be very interesting. Have you considered a career option as a Romance Writer?"

"I'm going to become a Fairy Tale Writer," she said firmly. "The best-selling sort that makes pots and pots of money. Right after I finish Kindergarten."

Now why didn't that occur to me?

My friend is five. I'm not.