It is often said that there are two sides to every story, and it could similarly be said that there are two sides to every romantic relationship. That’s what makes writing romance novels so interesting. Look at any piece of romantic fiction and you will find situations where a female character sees something in a certain way while her male love interest has a completely different point of view. It is all about how individuals uniquely interpret the facts of a situation.
Often in romance novels authors will engineer a deliberate
misunderstanding (aka The Big Misunderstanding) to give their story a twist,
but an author doesn't need to rely on a contrived and trumped-up
misunderstanding as a plot device – rather there are numerous natural
misunderstandings that happen between members of the opposite sex all the time
which could be utilised to drive the story forward, and these are often a
result of characters interpreting situations purely from their own
As an author, you are constantly trying to understand your
characters. This might sound silly as it could be argued that once you’ve
created a character you should understand your own creation. But this isn’t
necessarily the case… When I was writing my latest novel, A Marchioness Below Stairs, I created a male
character that I didn't understand all that well at first. He started off in my mind in
one way, but when I tried to develop him further, I began to have doubts as to
what motivated him, and I had to go back to the drawing board (or in this
instance the writing pad), and reassess my portrayal of him.
Authors are forced by their art to learn the skill of
putting themselves into the shoes of others. That’s why writing creatively can
be so draining – you’re creating a separate reality for each character in your
book and in order for your story to pull at a reader’s heart-strings and come
across as authentic, each character’s reality has to be convincing.
However, no matter how draining it is, I infinitely
appreciate how writing has trained me to see real-life situations in a more
objective way. Of course it’s possible to attempt to put yourself in someone
else’s shoes and still horribly misunderstand their perspective, but at least trying
to understand someone else’s viewpoint (even if you don’t succeed every time)
is an incredibly important skill to learn if you’re intent on building happy
relationships with people.
It is easy to fall into the trap of believing that your
desires are naturally the desires of other people. It is a trap that everyone
falls into at some point or other, I imagine. In a Regency Romance, the ambitions of a young debutante presented in London for the first time don't naturally coincide with the wishes of the fashionable bucks on the town - and therein lies the delicious tension we are all so familiar with and enjoy in these wonderful historical tales.
Saturday, 17 February 2018
Sunday, 11 February 2018
|David Bamber is Mr Collins, Pride and Prejudice 1995|
Then you can have the Comedic Villain or the Bumbling Buffoon… this kind of villain is usually the most entertaining to create. Just think of Mr Collins in Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. His stuffiness and lack of humour and intelligence make him a truly memorable and annoying character… and although it’s a little strong to call him a villain, perhaps, the negative emotional reaction he engenders in me as a reader causes me to sneak him into this category!
Of course, a romantic novel is often not complete without the requisite Villainess – she comes in many shapes and forms, but the common denominator of the Villainess is that she usually hates the heroine! Miss Bingley in Pride and Prejudice is a classic example of a Villainess with her snobbish nature and nasty character, but Elizabeth Bennett is more than a match for her in wit, intelligence and humour, and Mr Darcy falls in love with Elizabeth, rather than the unpleasant Miss Bingley, which is a truly satisfying result.
|Anna Chancellor is Miss Bingley, Pride and Prejudice 1995|
It may seem as if romance novels feature a number of stereotypes – the strong masculine hero vs the evil villain; the charming heroine vs the nasty villainess, however I would venture to say that if you dig a little below the surface of a romance novel you may discover hidden messages of hope as well as joy. Of course we’re all a mix of good and bad – and I’m sure we’ve all been heroic on some occasions and cowardly on others. We’re human after all, and the nature of being human is our fallibility.
Romance novels focus on good triumphing over evil, which is often symbolised with the hero vs villain theme in a story. And this usually culminates with the requisite HEA (happily ever after), where the hero triumphs over all the odds and rides away victoriously with the heroine on his saddlebow.
People who focus on good things are often happy in themselves. And focusing on happiness is a recipe for actually becoming more happy. Sadness and tragedy are part of life, but so are happiness and joy. And yet stories which focus on tragedy and the darker side of humanity are often seen as more representative of life than stories that focus on comedy or love. A tragedy is always taken more seriously than a romance and I question this. Why should something that is considered more “realistic” because it features darker themes be more acclaimed than a joyful story?
If you watch the news on television or read newspapers the focus is usually on the negative, and the good is often left unreported. I’d say the same applies in the literary world. Books focusing on tragedy are often commended but the happy stories go unreported. And that saddens me. Sometimes we all need a HEA.
My latest novel, A Marchioness Below Stairs, features a villain who is a slave owner - a truly nasty individual. Fortunately, Mr Bateman, the hero in A Marchioness Below Stairs, is more than a match for him. Read more about my latest Regency romance here.
|A Marchioness Below Stairs|
Friday, 9 February 2018
Creating a strong connection between the hero and heroine in a romance novel is vital for the story to be compelling and gripping. In order to create this connection, the hero and heroine often have to fight for their love. However, if they are constantly fighting each other, I start to wonder if they’re really suited to each other at all.
A lot of drama-filled relationships thrive on conflict, but if it’s of an abusive nature, then this can turn a romance novel into something more sinister. The romance novel might appear on the surface to end happily (there is always a HEA in a romance novel, as we know) but if there are dark undercurrents to the hero or heroine’s character that aren’t resolved in a satisfactory manner during the course of a book, it can leave the reader with a nasty taste in their mouth.
I once read a romance novel by a very popular author which featured a hero and heroine who on the surface appeared to be classic hero and heroine material. She was beautiful, clever, impulsive, headstrong and had a keen will of her own. He was handsome, rich, powerful, charismatic, funny – and also possessed of an explosive, irrational temper. He would blow up at the heroine when she did something “wrong” and instead of discussing it with her in a rational manner, he would scream at her in fury. He struck me as a man who was seriously disturbed and yet the author was very forgiving towards this character and seemed to find his behaviour excusable. She didn’t think that there was anything wrong with his explosive temper, and I got the impression that she believed this type of behaviour was normal in a love relationship.
Dysfunctional characters populate books, but if they are the heroes and heroines of romance novels it can be difficult to get your head around. I’m not saying that dysfunctional people can’t have their love stories told, but if a character is seriously disturbed, it’s doubtful that a HEA would be convincing unless he or she did some serious emotional work along the way (counselling sessions etc.)
However, if this were to be done within the context of a love story, I strongly doubt that the book could be categorised as a romance novel any longer. The constraints of the genre don’t allow for authors to portray the therapy sessions that disturbed heroes and heroines would need in order for their HEAs to ring true. And if an author did portray this sort of thing while telling a love story the book would probably be classified as a drama and not a romance.
Personally, I like creating nice male characters who won’t make my heroines suffer unnecessarily!
And in real life?
When women are choosing their own heroes for their real-life romances, I’d suggest they put aside any images of dark, brooding men with deeply troubled souls and rather ask themselves the following practical questions:
Is he kind?
Is he nice to people in lower positions in life than he is?
Is he generous?
Is he considerate?
Does he have integrity?
Is he responsible?
Is he a man of his word?
Is he honest?
Falling in love can often blind a woman to a man’s character and this can lead to her overlooking numerous red flags due to her strong attraction to him. But having a strong connection with a man doesn’t always equate to having a healthy relationship with a man.
In a good relationship, a woman feels safe with her man, and even though the early stages of a relationship can be fraught with misunderstandings and misperceptions, ultimately it’s important to feel that even if you don’t always see eye to eye with your guy, that he will always be a safe port for you. If you don’t sense this safe feeling with the man in your life, then the relationship will always be a struggle - and sadly real life cannot be scripted into a HEA.
Wednesday, 7 February 2018
In a number of romance novels, the hero seems to have two opposing sides to his character. When one first encounters him in the initial chapters, he appears to be the total opposite of what he becomes later in the book. Does this suggest an inconsistency in characterisation on the part of authors in order to create conflict and drama in a story? Is it possible for a man to stop exhibiting bad behaviour simply because he falls in love?
The prime example of such a man is Mr Darcy in Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. When the reader first encounters him, he seems proud and rude, and
“She is tolerable; but not handsome enough to tempt me; I am in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me.” (Mr Darcy to Mr Bingley about Elizabeth Bennet; Chapter 3).
Of course later on in the book we discover that Mr Darcy has many good qualities, and the reader is won over by his declarations of love for
Authors often show a character’s “bad” side and highlight it in order to create conflict in a story (and indeed how dull books would be if the hero and heroine were always nice!), but when an author comes to reveal such a hero’s good characteristics, it’s very important to make it apparent to the reader why he behaved in the difficult/nasty/unherolike manner in which she initially portrayed him. Jane Austen does exactly this later in Pride and Prejudice when Mr Darcy says the following:
“I have been a selfish being all my life, in practice, though not in principle. As a child I was taught what was right, but I was not taught to correct my temper. I was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride and conceit. Unfortunately an only son (for many years an only child), I was spoilt by my parents, who, though good themselves (my father, particularly, all that was benevolent and amiable), allowed, encouraged, almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing; to care for none beyond my own family circle; to think meanly of all the rest of the world; to wish at least to think meanly of their sense and worth compared with my own. Such I was, from eight to eight and twenty; and such I might still have been but for you, dearest, loveliest
Jane Austen did a brilliant job of being consistent in her characterisation of Mr Darcy. Indeed, he is rude and proud when we first encounter him in the pages of Pride and Prejudice, but later on we come to understand his behaviour and we truly believe by the end of the book that Mr Darcy has changed for the better.
Many modern day romance authors draw inspiration from the character of Mr Darcy. What I hope to point out in this post, though, is that a character needs to make sense and be fully rounded in order to appeal to a reader, and what is truly satisfying is when a character grows and changes, but in an understandable manner.
The worst thing to do as a romance author is to allow your hero to behave in a Darcy-like manner in the beginning of a book, and then later on, magically transform him into Mr Nice Guy without explaining or showing why he has changed for the better. If an author fails to illustrate this, a reader will be left scratching her head, wondering how this man could possibly have transformed himself, as he simply won’t ring true.