Saturday, February 14, 2015

Why Do You Write Romance?

I've been seeing this question pop in my FB feed on a daily basis. So many authors have these sweet stories or quotes to use. This question did get me thinking though...especially on the holiest of days for the romance addicts of the world. So, I asked myself, "Gemma, why do you write romance?" The answer is not nearly as sweet and thoughtful as others I've read, but here we go: 

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I write romance because I need to believe it still exists. Romance is not a prevalent part of my life. It hasn't really ever been. See, I was the little girl who believed in Prince Charming and happily ever after. Somewhere along the way, I stopped believing in all of that and settled for what I could get. I guess I write romance to give that little girl, who lives inside of me, hope of finding her Prince and getting her happily ever after.

I am not a woman who believes in grand romantic gestures. Honestly, flowers die, chocolates go nasty, and I eat dinner every day. 

See? Love can simply be two friends caring about each other. It doesn't have to be all mushy and icky. I am a huge fan of practical!

My best friend showed up one day with a package of my very favorite pens in the world. I hate using any other pen except this type. That gesture made me cry. Why? Because in the middle of whatever he was doing at the moment he saw those, he thought of me. This same friend is also my current roommate. We had a mouse problem in this house we're living in. What did he do? He built me a bucket trap which he tucked in a corner so I don't have to look at it. He empties it when it needs to be emptied. This gesture warmed my heart. Why? Because he knows how much I despise the furry little Satan's spawns. 

I know you're reading this saying, "Awww...but Gemma, what do you do for him?" Let me tell you: I make sure there is ham and cheese in the fridge because I know how much he loves 'ham and cheesers'. I will spend twenty minutes shredding potatoes because I know he likes hashbrowns for breakfast. I clean the house because I know he likes it clean, but hates to clean it. And I make sure there is a bottle of wine in the house because I know there are days when he needs that more than anything else.

See? Practicality wins every time!!

I know, right? A romance author who has a hard time with the mushy love stuff? Who would've thought? Somewhere along the line my romantic side was busted. Maybe it was in high school when every girl got a flower except me. Maybe it was later on when the guys I dated just didn't care about romancing me. I don't know. I am sure of one thing: Love is about lifting each other up and holding on when the other feels like letting go (not in that weird stalkerish way). It 's loving each other through the rough spots in life and holding on to that hand when they feel like all hope is gone.

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