One of Those Days

books by dellani oakes 1It’s the perfect day to write and you have plans to finish that novel that’s been pending now for six months. You sit at the computer to write and the phone rings. It’s nothing important, but it interrupts the flow of creative energy, so you fix a cup of coffee. That accomplished, you sit back down & the doorbell rings, your child vomits, your spouse can’t find his car keys – or any number of other interruptions break into your routine.

It’s gone. The idea, the energy, the creativity, the muse – call it what you will. And your coffee is cold. After that long, imaginative string of swear words ends, you realize the day is over and you accomplished nothing.

With variations on details, we’ve all had days like this. Not much is more frustrating than getting to the end of the day with absolutely nothing on paper. Do you stay up late and work after the house is quiet? Do you sneak off to your happy place and count butterflies? Do you let it get you down, become depressed and wonder why you ever took up writing in the first place? How do you cope with days like this?

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Writing to a Formula? No Thanks!

Dellani Oakes with glasses smallerI stopped reading a book today. I set it aside and vowed not to read anymore. Just like that. Why? Because I saw where it was going. Not only that, I realized that it was something I wasn’t going to enjoy.

Anyone who has read my books knows that I don’t write to the standard romance formula: boy meets girl, boy kisses girl, boy & girl fight, boy hates girl, then they figure out they’re in love, but won’t talk about it and fall in love despite themselves.

I don’t like that plot line. Isn’t the whole point of a romance for the couple to fall in love and be happy? I read books like this one and I wonder how they are going to get along later and how soon after the wedding will they get divorced? I give it six months to a year.

In my romance and romantic suspense novels, the characters meet, feel that spark of attraction and move heaven and earth to get together. They may be foiled by circumstances, driven apart by conflict—but it’s external, not between them. I use adversity to bring them closer, to face their problems together.

Having a couple fight through two thirds (or more) of a novel doesn’t interest me. Having some roué sweep an unwilling ingenue off her feet isn’t seductive, it’s insulting. This scenario is most often used in historical romance novels. I find it offensive. In my historical romance, the hero does get a little ahead of himself, but his intended puts the brakes on. Realizing that it’s not the time to consummate their love, he respects her innocence and fears rather than playing on them. He doesn’t want to, and I’m sure it’s pure torture for him, but he loves her enough to stop.

In my contemporary writing, the pace of the romance varies, depending upon the characters. Sometimes it’s weeks, sometimes it’s only a matter of days, before they get together. They come together by mutual desire and lust, neither one of them forcing the other into bed. And they don’t fight afterward. Usually, they enjoy it so much, they do it again!

Granted, I have tried the other formula for a novel. It doesn’t work well for me. I can’t stand to see my characters miserable. That’s not to say that my characters don’t argue or have misunderstandings, but they resolve their differences. They talk about it and get their feelings aired. I know not all couples do this, but my husband and I do. We try not to argue, though we do exchange heated comments from time to time. Then we take our neutral corners and discuss something when we can be more calm and cool headed. It’s worked for over 30 years, so I guess we’re doing something right.

Getting back to the book I mentioned above—the reason I got so annoyed with it was that the male lead had just trashed the hopes and dreams of the young woman. She goes outside, weeping piteously. He hears her and goes outside to see what’s wrong. (Huh?) He just destroyed her emotionally and he doesn’t know why she’s crying? (Dumb ass)

Next, he—who has just devastated her—gives her comfort, his arms and lips seeking hers—and all that crap. She—whose life has been destroyed by this hedonistic, self-centered, egoist—falls into his arms. He’s just ruined her last hope of getting control of her life, and she’s drawn to him, kissing him in passion. (Oh, yes, she’s a virgin.) She’s allowing this total bastard to ravage her. I got to the point where he bared her breasts and stopped reading.

Really? She hates him. He’s taken possession of her home, is turning her and her little brother out without a cent and she’s letting him do the nasty in the garden at night? I couldn’t stand it. If I believed in burning books, this would be the first one in. I’m not offended by the sex. If you’ve read my books, you certainly know that. I’m offended by the abject stupidity of the characters.

He’s a jerk with his own agenda. She’s a helpless little twit. I want to box their ears and shake them until they get some sense—or their brains scramble. I don’t care which.

I know this formula is an accepted plot line for many a romance novel. I want to assure my readers that you’ll never see it from me. And if you do, you have my permission to shake me until my brains scramble, because I’ll obviously have lost all my sense.

© Dellani Oakes 2014

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