Romance is the top-selling genre, netting 55% of all sales. Of that percentage, the vast majority of readers are women. Is it any surprise that we want romance?
I read other genres, but nothing beats a good romance. For a brief period of time I can escape the sink full of dishes, the carpet that needs vacuuming and all the other less than glamorous things that are every day life. I can experience by proxy the roller coaster ride that falling in love can be. Ain’t no mountain high enough, ain’t no valley low enough that can keep me from you love.
It can’t just be a simple boy meets girl, they fall in love kumbaya, and they live happily ever after! How boring would that be? Flash fiction has more oomph than that!
No, we want a romance that takes us on the magical mystery tour of love. Undying devotions, a love that never fails, a passion so great that life is meaningless without it; this is the stuff of dreams.
Ah! My inspiration, my love; the man who inspires me to write passionate scenes of ardor, the one that quickens my pulse and sets me on fire with a mere glance. The one! The one that takes me over the edge, that laughs and splashes in the deep pools of my soul, the one I let inside. I dare to bare my soul, my heart. The promise behind the eyes, the words spoken or barely whispered in intimacy that make my heart zing like a rocket launched into the universe. It’s more than a physical attraction. It’s more than being friends. There’s nothing casual about it at all. With the internal fears of trusting someone so deeply and intimately comes the intoxicating seduction of complete passion.
When you would do anything for the one you love, feel that you could survive the worst if they are there for you, and are willing to lay your soul bare for them – that is love.
It’s the brass ring we are after when we lose our less than perfect selves into a fictional tale. The hope of it happening in our lives propels us forward, seeking it in our own lives. Some have become disenchanted and given up on it ever being real for them. A few lucky souls have found it. Many more are still seeking.
Love and passion can be separate things but the love we hope for, long for and desire is the passionate love that nothing else in life can compare to. I can’t imagine a 14-year-old writing effectively about being heartbroken, or experiencing true love. There’s a depth that has to be experienced in order to convey.
Ah, and I’ve touched on the other element of passion, the painful side. It’s a fine razor’s edge when the heart is laid open, vulnerable to another. It’s the ones closest to us that can hurt us the most. Betrayal, heartache, pain – any time we make ourselves vulnerable we risk those.
Is it better to keep your heart guarded and never let anyone in? Or risk having it broken?
We put characters through impossible situations and unbearable circumstances to test them. We find out just how much they can trust each other, how much they care, and sometimes what lengths they go to show that love. We throw natural disasters, impossible obstacles, and even dangerous villains across their path and make them perform like mice in a maze. Dance little mouse and go for the cheese at the end. I guess now would be a good time to tell you I’m a firm believer in happily ever after in my books. I don’t care for noir fiction, life is dark enough.
The mere nature of our fragile mortality is often a driving force of passion. Our lives are but a flickering flame of a candle and can be gone like a vapor. Life is too short to not take chances for happiness and love.
Have you ever fallen in love; truly, madly deeply? Do you have someone in your life that you feel this way about? Have you expressed it to them lately? Passion without expression is lifeless. If you don’t live passionately, you’re not really living. Just going through the motions in a daily grind, where’s the joy in that?
If there’s someone in your life that you feel desperate for, can’t imagine a life without them in it; tell them, show them. Let them know there’s someone there for them and hopefully it won’t be a unrequitted love.
The most tragic love of all, unrequited love. To give yourself completely, without reservation to someone else, and they don’t return that love – well, that’s often a heart ache that leaves a permanent scar. The deepest wounds are inflicted upon our souls and sense of self worth. It leaves us shattered to the core, giving up on ourselves and life itself. A few eventually rise from the ashes bearing their battle scars, but most never trust again.
We are at our inner beings delicate flowers after all. Fragile petals that are easily crushed or bruised. In the hands of one who cares, the blossom opens and becomes something of beauty. A passionate love beckons the beauty even from a damaged blossom. Be careful who you let in your inner garden.
Write on my friends, write on!
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