These are the things we won’t do. We won’t be together so long that we forget how we got together in the first place; and it doesn’t matter to us or to anybody else. We won’t go to bed in the afternoon on the strength of a smile across a room. We won’t exchange our life stories and feel pangs of jealousy when we talk about old lovers. We won’t get enough memories of our own to see us through the bad times. We won’t read something in the paper and want to ring each other up just to talk about it. And we’ll never go dancing and embarrass everybody but ourselves. We won’t ever argue. We won’t ever make up. We won’t ever get to know each other so well that we take each other for granted.D.I. Peter Carlisle in Blackpool (played by David Tennant)
That last line kills me. What is it with me and declarations of love these days? I must be getting broody or something. I’m in the midst of writing something romantic and now I’m just searching for other romantic declarations. Between this one and the one on Bones, I’m turning into a total sap.
Here’s an unpopular opinion: I really, really, really dislike it when writers tell me how attractive romantic leads are, and the specific ways in which they are attractive. I am, of course, talking about when writers linger on the physical merits of a character. Oh writers, if/when you are writing a book with a hot romantic interest, please refrain from describing said romantic interest’s looks in minute detail. I am begging you.
You see, I don’t believe that “attractiveness” is universal. Of course, there is the science of beauty, which I am not disputing a scientific standard of “beauty”. I’m disputing the notion that tall, broad-shouldered, and muscular men are attractive to every single hotblooded straight female or gay male, and that long-legged, slim-waisted, bosom-y girls are attractive to every single hotbooded straight male or gay female. Because whenever I start to read a description of a male romantic lead with broad-shoulders, narrow hips, and noticeable muscles, I groan. Not that I don’t appreciate a masculine physique, but I’m not too fond of men who are too male, too macho, or too alpha.
She wondered whether there would ever come an hour in her life when she didn’t think of him; didn’t speak to him in her head, didn’t relive every moment they’d been together, didn’t long for his voice and his hands and his love. She had never dreamed of what it would feel like to love someone so much; of all the things that had astonished her in her adventures, that was what astonished her the most. She thought the tenderness it left in her heart was like a bruise that would never go away, but she would cherish for ever.Philip Pullman, The Amber Spyglass
This series never, ever fails to reduce me to a weeping wreck.
JUST KISS, DAMMIT.
Perhaps I’m asking too much when it comes to romance in my books. Perhaps my standards are too high. Perhaps I am doomed to be forever unhappy and discontent with love stories in the books I read. But I swear, I don’t think I’m being unreasonable when I ask for relationships founded on mutual respect and trust, and passion founded on pages of sexual tension, not lust.
Wait, you might decry, are we at the right blog? Did JJ just mention ‘sexual tension’?
Yes, yes I did. And I am going to illustrate for you just how I like it. (We won’t be able to escape the innuendo, so hell, why don’t we just run with it?)
I am improving. Yes, I am quite strong. You know the difference between strength and imperviousness, right? A substance that is impervious to damage doesn't need to be strong. When you and I met, I was an impervious substance. Now I am a strong substance. A time could come when you aren't angry anymore and I'm strong enough to risk losing the last of my imperviousness, maybe then we could try to be together.Bones, The Blackout in the Blizzard
Excuse me while I clutch at my heart in anguish. “When I am strong enough to lose the last of my imperviousness…” Gaah! This is probably one of the most romantic declarations of love ever.
The Flatiron Building gave me a valentine! Too bad I don't like chocolate.
Good Lord, it’s been far too long since I last blogged. I really have no good excuse: I’ve been about as busy as always, so the actual reason is I haven’t felt like blogging. I don’t have many topics to blog about, but when I do get around to writing a post, I write long. It can get sort of wearying.
But I did swear I would I blog more this year, and more consistently. And as today is Valentine’s Day, V-Day, Interplanetary Be Who You Are DAy, or Whatever Holiday It Is You Celebrate Day, I am going to blog about my Top 5 Favourite Romantic Books (yes, I do have favourite romantic books).
Dear Readers, I must acquaint you all with something with which I was obsessed over the Christmas holidays.
The Jalgeum Quartet in Sungkyunkwan Scandal
What do you get when you have a witty, intelligent, cross-dressing heroine, a stodgy, principled (but adorable) nerd, a rebel with a heart of gold, and a weaselly, manipulative, and ambiguously gay mischief-maker? ONLY JJ’S NEWEST KOREAN DRAMA CRACK.
Lunch today consisted of 85% sugar, 15% actual nutrients. As a result, I am buzzing like a…well, I’ll say electric toothbrush, and hurtling towards a crash. I thought about blogging about actual publishing related things, like “literature vs. storytelling”, but you know what? I don’t care. My cracked out brain dictates that I write something short and silly.
So, what am I going to talk about? HOT BOYS. AND HOT GIRLS. IN FICTION. Because, yeah. I’m going to blog about a series of fictional crushes because it’s easy and fun. And I’ve written about this topic several times before (and I even won a cash prize award for an essay I wrote about my “imaginary boyfriends” when I was in high school) and it never gets less fun.
Robin Hood is a total fox. Literally.
Right, so Robin Hood was the first crush I ever had. When I was 4 years old, my parents gave me this movie on VHS and I watched it so many times it wore out. I was in love with Robin Hood and I was going to marry him and join his band of Merrie Men. We would win archery competitions, steal from the rich to feed the poor, and be all-around badasses. And it wasn’t just because Robin Hood was a (literal) fox. There was something about the idea of creating your own laws because the system is unjust that appealed to me, even if I didn’t have the words to articulate those feelings at the tender age of four. (I was always a rebel!)
The love of the rogue has lasted to this day. I credit Robin Hood with getting me interested in stories at all; it was shortly after this movie that I saw an illustrated Robin Hood book in the library and I begged my parents to read to me from it. My adoration of Robin Hood didn’t seem to be constrained to Disney’s version; I devoured anything related to Robin Hood, the Crusades, outlaws, et al.
I still love me a good honourable thief in fiction. George Cooper, Eugenides, Locke Lamora, even characters like Han Solo and Mal from Firefly etc. all have special places in my heart. The defining characteristic of said honourable thief is that they are, at heart, criminals. They commit crime because it’s a habit, because it’s instinctual, and sometimes, because it’s just plain fun. Yet, despite (or perhaps because of) their criminal tendencies, they adhere to a strict code of honour. They have a keen sense of injustice, which is why the honourable thief often seems to be a liberator of the oppressed and a champion of the underdog. The system has failed them, so they make their own laws.
Also, thieves seem to have a sense of joie de vivre. And I’ve mentioned before, a sense of humor is crucial in a character.
So there you have it, my very first literary crush ever. What are yours?
Where does time go? I swear I have ideas for blog posts and intend to write them, but then the day gets away from me and before I know it, it’s 8:30 and all I want to do is sleep off my Indian food coma.
This is the face of the Romantic Male Lead. Really? Really? I weep for you!
I realise I talk a lot about female characters: how they’re awesome but can be deeply problematic. I am, of course, rather committed to girls because, well, I am one and I like to see others of my sex be awesome! But then I look back at my list of favourite characters and see that the list is heavily skewed towards women and wondered why. Am I sexist? Am I inherently prejudiced against male characters?
And then I saw it. It’s not as though I don’t love male characters; I do. It’s that I really, really, really can’t stand Romantic Male Leads. I’ve talked about what makes female characters work; now let’s talk about what makes male characters work. Or fail. And I see a lot of fail when it comes to Romantic Male Leads.
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