Isi's Rules of Romance
Hey, remember in my rant on Twilight I mentioned having a list of guidelines for writing romance that doesn't make me want to gag? I actually sort of finally finished writing it out, since last night I couldn't figure out what I wanted to write, so I opened this and worked on it instead. So, yay!
Note: I originally started writing this to be a part of our Sporker writing wiki thing that ended up never being used, so instead I'm posting it here until I figure out what else to do with it.
It seems odd for me to write a guide on the topic of romance of all things. I don’t read romance novels, and I certainly don’t write them; indeed, I am rather fond of describing myself as a romantic humbug even in the non-literary aspects of my life. But despite my tendency to gag at the first sign of the quintessential romantic subplot (or, Lork forbid, the central plot), I don’t necessarily hate romance. I realize that romantic love is a huge theme in the general world of fiction, and it can even be done in a way that makes me gleeful. It is my goal to explore the factors that contribute to this, to compile some helpful hints on what it takes to make Isi love a love story. In a way I think it’s because of my outsider’s view that I consider myself qualified to author such an article, because I’m so critical of the concept but admit that it can be done right.
The following points I have written to apply to any romantic relationship between two characters, with emphasis on stories whose central theme is said romance. I expect these rules to be applied to subplots as well, albeit in a simpler form, since the main focus is on other things. So without further ado, Isi’s Rules of Romance:
1. Love means equal contribution. This first point is actually two points:
A) From a reader’s perspective: Love, as I understand it, is typically about two people. It’s about both parties contributing and both parties loving. It’s about understanding each other. It’s mutual respect. It’s compromise. It’s reciprocity. It is not, therefore, a knight galloping across time and space while the princess sits locked in her tower doing nothing. That’s an example of a one sided relationship, and if equal contribution means doing away with the damsels in distress whose sole purpose is to be rescued and look pretty, then good riddance to them. Equal involvement is key; as a reader I want to see both characters having a role in the romance: they both help each other, they both make decisions, etc. This means treating both your characters as people instead of one being the hero or heroine and the other being the Designated Love Interest ™, because when you define characters simply by their romantic involvement with the other, they cease to be independent beings and become merely objects: the thing to be rescued, for example. Successful romance cannot be accomplished if I can’t view one of the characters as a separate, unique person.
B) From a writer’s perspective: This subpoint has more to do with the story mechanics than the actual romance. Not only should each member of the relationship contribute equally to said relationship, they should also both contribute to the plot. This means that while the knight in shining armor is hacking his way through all the monsters guarding the castle, the distressed damsel better be planning her own escape in the meantime, defying the forces that captured her in whatever way she can. This makes both parties active characters, and as such they should also have individual character arcs. They may not necessarily both be POV characters, as long as they both do things that affect the plot. In 1A I said both should be treated as unique individuals, and part of this is character motivation (and yes, they should have ambitions independent of their relationship with each other). Here this means that they should be acting on these motivations and have it be relevant.
2. Make sure the feelings are well-grounded. I’m sorry, but if your lovebirds are declaring their undying love for one another within forty-eight hours of knowing each other, there’s no way I’m going to believe it’s going to work out for more than a week, maybe two. There’s simply not enough time there to establish a realistic connection. This right here is why I don’t believe in love at first sight. There’s attraction at first sight, sure, but that’s an entirely different matter, and the two should never be confused (point 4). If the story is about the romance, then naturally it ought to develop throughout the book (point 3), giving me enough reason to believe it. I should be able to understand why these characters like each other and be able to point out specific parts where this is established. This point is all about the why: give me a reason to sympathize with them; tell me why I should sympathize. Or rather, show me why I should sympathize.
And make sure there are good reasons, something the reader can identify with. Lovers who dote endlessly about the other’s beauty are not going to pass this item. Show me emotional connection. What emotional need does this character have that the other character fulfills? And as per point 1, naturally I should be able to answer this question for both characters.
3. Work with the conflict, not around it. There are few things I detest more than the following storyline:
-character A is secretly in love with character B, but is too shy to admit it to B
-character A finally works up the courage to reveal his/her love for B
-it turns out character B has always had similar feelings for character A, but was likewise too afraid to show it
-they live happily ever after
Excuse me, but where’s the conflict? Sure, there’s the inner conflict of character A, but then the conclusion is far too contrived. B liking A is not a result of A resolving the conflict, so it would appear it was thrown in just because the author wanted A to “win.” It doesn’t work that way in my universe.
I believe in tightly woven stories, stories where you can’t imagine any different ending than the one it has. Plan it right and the pairing will be, in a sense, inevitable. If it naturally follows the story, I will believe it completely. But in order to do this the romance has to be inextricably linked with the conflict, such that the romance emerges naturally from the events of the plot. I see it as the external conflict being a catalyst that brings the two characters together who wouldn’t otherwise have ended up together, as opposed to the external conflict being a minor annoyance that might get in the way of two characters being together but otherwise has nothing to do with their being in love (more on this in a minute).
I see a few different types of love stories to apply this to:
-There are stories where two characters who are neutral or even hostile toward each other end up falling in love. Great. Just make sure it’s about the actual falling in love process, and that it’s not some random all-of-a-sudden deal. I hate that. Show the feelings gradually evolving, or else the reader won’t feel it and therefore won’t care. And the evolving feelings should, of course, be a product of the plot. I’m almost tempted to say it should be the plot, but that’s not entirely true. Reading about two characters going out on dates and getting to know each other the normal way would be incredibly boring. There’s no conflict in that, so there has to be something else going on, which should directly affect the relationship. I believe what I’m saying here is common sense, but I just want to make sure and say it anyway.
-There are stories that begin with the characters already in love and end up still in love. This is an interesting case. My first impulse is to suggest that such a story is not about romance at all, but all the stuff in the middle. The key here is that the stuff in the middle should somehow alter both characters’ emotions toward each other. So maybe at the beginning their love is immature, or they only think it’s love when it’s not properly grounded (see rule 2), and dealing with the conflict enhances the feelings. Note that it’s okay for characters to think they’re in love when they violate some of the rules here, as long as they develop past this (personally I’d like to see more stories where the characters come to the conclusion that they never really loved each other and stop pursuing their relationship altogether, but I’m getting a little too optimistic here).
-Lastly, there are stories that begin with unrequited love and end, as always, with the two together. The cliché classic winning-over-your-heart’s-desire thing. It should be much the same as the previous two, except there’s a little of both. The one being wooed is eventually drawn to the other, and the one who is in love from the beginning realizes some new things in the process of overcoming whatever conflict shapes the story. The main thing I’m trying to get across here is that the events of the story need to alter each character’s feelings in some way. I don’t like it when the character who was in love from the beginning gets everything s/he hoped for exactly the way s/he wanted; there’s no development on that character’s behalf if s/he was right all along. Plus how can you know before you’re even in the relationship that it was “meant to be”? Plus it’s just cheesy.
4. Beyond the bodice rippers. I say the following from a highly personalized, subjective point of view. I consider myself asexual. I am not sexually attracted to anyone. This means I can’t sympathize with characters who trip over their undergarments in their rush to have hot, passionate sex at the slightest provocation (a theme that is depressingly common in movies these days).
Now, I say the rest of this from a more objective, impersonalized stance. Physical attraction is an important part of many romantic relationships, yes, but it shouldn’t be the sole defining factor of who ends up with whom. This point is very similar to point 2 because physical attraction alone is not a realistic basis of a good relationship, but here I’m just defining one thing it shouldn’t be rather than what it should be, because I find it that annoying.
Relationships where this is the case, the characters are in lust, not in love. I call this Romeo and Juliet syndrome, since those two only had passion and lacked the other two factors that make up consummate love (intimacy and commitment) as defined by Robert Sternberg in his triangular theory of love (and there I go going all psychology nerd on you). I’m not saying the characters should necessarily achieve consummate love by the end of the book, but I’m just saying mere infatuation does not an epic romance make. Of those three factors, I’d say intimacy (feelings of closeness) is probably the most important in making it believable for me, because it goes along nicely with point 2.
5. Blatant is bad. I don’t know about you, but I’m not a huge fan of PDA in real life, and when characters start getting mushy about their truest of loves for each other and how it will conquer every evil I start rolling my eyes pretty quickly. It’s so dangerously easy to venture into the land of corny dialogue when you get characters declaring their undying love for each other, and if I read another story where any character dares to utter the phrase “I love you more than anyone has ever loved” I swear I will throw the book across the room.
Pet peeves aside, I think a major part of the corniness of the dialogue comes from how blatant it is. No reader wants things shoved down her throat, and expressions of love should be no exception. Personally, I think a lot of things are felt more powerfully when it’s subtle. I really don’t know how to add anything else to that other than to search my brain for an example, but my brain isn’t very cooperative toward this end.
And there you have it; some guidelines to how I think romance should be handled. But I’m open to feedback: tell me how I can make this better. What parts are unclear? Should I have included examples? Maybe you just want to argue with me?
Oh yeah, and, happy Easter.
Note: I originally started writing this to be a part of our Sporker writing wiki thing that ended up never being used, so instead I'm posting it here until I figure out what else to do with it.
It seems odd for me to write a guide on the topic of romance of all things. I don’t read romance novels, and I certainly don’t write them; indeed, I am rather fond of describing myself as a romantic humbug even in the non-literary aspects of my life. But despite my tendency to gag at the first sign of the quintessential romantic subplot (or, Lork forbid, the central plot), I don’t necessarily hate romance. I realize that romantic love is a huge theme in the general world of fiction, and it can even be done in a way that makes me gleeful. It is my goal to explore the factors that contribute to this, to compile some helpful hints on what it takes to make Isi love a love story. In a way I think it’s because of my outsider’s view that I consider myself qualified to author such an article, because I’m so critical of the concept but admit that it can be done right.
The following points I have written to apply to any romantic relationship between two characters, with emphasis on stories whose central theme is said romance. I expect these rules to be applied to subplots as well, albeit in a simpler form, since the main focus is on other things. So without further ado, Isi’s Rules of Romance:
1. Love means equal contribution. This first point is actually two points:
A) From a reader’s perspective: Love, as I understand it, is typically about two people. It’s about both parties contributing and both parties loving. It’s about understanding each other. It’s mutual respect. It’s compromise. It’s reciprocity. It is not, therefore, a knight galloping across time and space while the princess sits locked in her tower doing nothing. That’s an example of a one sided relationship, and if equal contribution means doing away with the damsels in distress whose sole purpose is to be rescued and look pretty, then good riddance to them. Equal involvement is key; as a reader I want to see both characters having a role in the romance: they both help each other, they both make decisions, etc. This means treating both your characters as people instead of one being the hero or heroine and the other being the Designated Love Interest ™, because when you define characters simply by their romantic involvement with the other, they cease to be independent beings and become merely objects: the thing to be rescued, for example. Successful romance cannot be accomplished if I can’t view one of the characters as a separate, unique person.
B) From a writer’s perspective: This subpoint has more to do with the story mechanics than the actual romance. Not only should each member of the relationship contribute equally to said relationship, they should also both contribute to the plot. This means that while the knight in shining armor is hacking his way through all the monsters guarding the castle, the distressed damsel better be planning her own escape in the meantime, defying the forces that captured her in whatever way she can. This makes both parties active characters, and as such they should also have individual character arcs. They may not necessarily both be POV characters, as long as they both do things that affect the plot. In 1A I said both should be treated as unique individuals, and part of this is character motivation (and yes, they should have ambitions independent of their relationship with each other). Here this means that they should be acting on these motivations and have it be relevant.
2. Make sure the feelings are well-grounded. I’m sorry, but if your lovebirds are declaring their undying love for one another within forty-eight hours of knowing each other, there’s no way I’m going to believe it’s going to work out for more than a week, maybe two. There’s simply not enough time there to establish a realistic connection. This right here is why I don’t believe in love at first sight. There’s attraction at first sight, sure, but that’s an entirely different matter, and the two should never be confused (point 4). If the story is about the romance, then naturally it ought to develop throughout the book (point 3), giving me enough reason to believe it. I should be able to understand why these characters like each other and be able to point out specific parts where this is established. This point is all about the why: give me a reason to sympathize with them; tell me why I should sympathize. Or rather, show me why I should sympathize.
And make sure there are good reasons, something the reader can identify with. Lovers who dote endlessly about the other’s beauty are not going to pass this item. Show me emotional connection. What emotional need does this character have that the other character fulfills? And as per point 1, naturally I should be able to answer this question for both characters.
3. Work with the conflict, not around it. There are few things I detest more than the following storyline:
-character A is secretly in love with character B, but is too shy to admit it to B
-character A finally works up the courage to reveal his/her love for B
-it turns out character B has always had similar feelings for character A, but was likewise too afraid to show it
-they live happily ever after
Excuse me, but where’s the conflict? Sure, there’s the inner conflict of character A, but then the conclusion is far too contrived. B liking A is not a result of A resolving the conflict, so it would appear it was thrown in just because the author wanted A to “win.” It doesn’t work that way in my universe.
I believe in tightly woven stories, stories where you can’t imagine any different ending than the one it has. Plan it right and the pairing will be, in a sense, inevitable. If it naturally follows the story, I will believe it completely. But in order to do this the romance has to be inextricably linked with the conflict, such that the romance emerges naturally from the events of the plot. I see it as the external conflict being a catalyst that brings the two characters together who wouldn’t otherwise have ended up together, as opposed to the external conflict being a minor annoyance that might get in the way of two characters being together but otherwise has nothing to do with their being in love (more on this in a minute).
I see a few different types of love stories to apply this to:
-There are stories where two characters who are neutral or even hostile toward each other end up falling in love. Great. Just make sure it’s about the actual falling in love process, and that it’s not some random all-of-a-sudden deal. I hate that. Show the feelings gradually evolving, or else the reader won’t feel it and therefore won’t care. And the evolving feelings should, of course, be a product of the plot. I’m almost tempted to say it should be the plot, but that’s not entirely true. Reading about two characters going out on dates and getting to know each other the normal way would be incredibly boring. There’s no conflict in that, so there has to be something else going on, which should directly affect the relationship. I believe what I’m saying here is common sense, but I just want to make sure and say it anyway.
-There are stories that begin with the characters already in love and end up still in love. This is an interesting case. My first impulse is to suggest that such a story is not about romance at all, but all the stuff in the middle. The key here is that the stuff in the middle should somehow alter both characters’ emotions toward each other. So maybe at the beginning their love is immature, or they only think it’s love when it’s not properly grounded (see rule 2), and dealing with the conflict enhances the feelings. Note that it’s okay for characters to think they’re in love when they violate some of the rules here, as long as they develop past this (personally I’d like to see more stories where the characters come to the conclusion that they never really loved each other and stop pursuing their relationship altogether, but I’m getting a little too optimistic here).
-Lastly, there are stories that begin with unrequited love and end, as always, with the two together. The cliché classic winning-over-your-heart’s-desire thing. It should be much the same as the previous two, except there’s a little of both. The one being wooed is eventually drawn to the other, and the one who is in love from the beginning realizes some new things in the process of overcoming whatever conflict shapes the story. The main thing I’m trying to get across here is that the events of the story need to alter each character’s feelings in some way. I don’t like it when the character who was in love from the beginning gets everything s/he hoped for exactly the way s/he wanted; there’s no development on that character’s behalf if s/he was right all along. Plus how can you know before you’re even in the relationship that it was “meant to be”? Plus it’s just cheesy.
4. Beyond the bodice rippers. I say the following from a highly personalized, subjective point of view. I consider myself asexual. I am not sexually attracted to anyone. This means I can’t sympathize with characters who trip over their undergarments in their rush to have hot, passionate sex at the slightest provocation (a theme that is depressingly common in movies these days).
Now, I say the rest of this from a more objective, impersonalized stance. Physical attraction is an important part of many romantic relationships, yes, but it shouldn’t be the sole defining factor of who ends up with whom. This point is very similar to point 2 because physical attraction alone is not a realistic basis of a good relationship, but here I’m just defining one thing it shouldn’t be rather than what it should be, because I find it that annoying.
Relationships where this is the case, the characters are in lust, not in love. I call this Romeo and Juliet syndrome, since those two only had passion and lacked the other two factors that make up consummate love (intimacy and commitment) as defined by Robert Sternberg in his triangular theory of love (and there I go going all psychology nerd on you). I’m not saying the characters should necessarily achieve consummate love by the end of the book, but I’m just saying mere infatuation does not an epic romance make. Of those three factors, I’d say intimacy (feelings of closeness) is probably the most important in making it believable for me, because it goes along nicely with point 2.
5. Blatant is bad. I don’t know about you, but I’m not a huge fan of PDA in real life, and when characters start getting mushy about their truest of loves for each other and how it will conquer every evil I start rolling my eyes pretty quickly. It’s so dangerously easy to venture into the land of corny dialogue when you get characters declaring their undying love for each other, and if I read another story where any character dares to utter the phrase “I love you more than anyone has ever loved” I swear I will throw the book across the room.
Pet peeves aside, I think a major part of the corniness of the dialogue comes from how blatant it is. No reader wants things shoved down her throat, and expressions of love should be no exception. Personally, I think a lot of things are felt more powerfully when it’s subtle. I really don’t know how to add anything else to that other than to search my brain for an example, but my brain isn’t very cooperative toward this end.
And there you have it; some guidelines to how I think romance should be handled. But I’m open to feedback: tell me how I can make this better. What parts are unclear? Should I have included examples? Maybe you just want to argue with me?
Oh yeah, and, happy Easter.