| By Kimberly Lark
Most people, when they think of romance
in fiction, automatically picture, in their minds, the Harlequin Romance
â type novels. The covers of these paperbacks picture a perfectly
shaped woman dressed in a long, flowing dress. Gorgeous men, muscles in
all the right places, ripped shirts, kissing the perfect woman. If you
even bother to open the covers of  said novels, you are usually flooded
with formula writing: all the stories, no matter the titles are the
same: boy meets girl, girl loves boy but can’t have boy because (a)
she’s married, (b) she has other commitments, or (c) she just wants to
play hard to get. If you are able to continue plodding through one of
these sappy, pre-written love stories, you will find that they all end
the same: boy gets the girl he loves because girl has decided, no matter
what, she loves boy enough to give up her entire life to be with him.
If you’re anything like me,
after you’ve read one of these stories, you put it down and said, “Yeah,
right. Whatever happened to REAL life?”
Here, according to Webster’s New
World Dictionary, is the definition of romance: (1) a novel of love,
adventure, etc. (2) excitement, love, etc., of the kind found in such
literature (3) a love affair.
Could we not, based on this definition of
romance, include ANY work of fiction that contains (a) adventure, (b) a
love interest, whether gay, lesbian, or heterosexual, (c) a conflict
borne from the love interest, and (d) resolution of the love conflict
whether the two parties involved end up together in the end or not? I
think so.
Let’s look, for a minute, at an excerpt
from Living, Loving, Lying, a
not yet published novel by Benjamine Blaire:
Lydia sat on the bed watching Jan unpack, trying to concentrate on what was happening to her feelings. There was something about Jan that made Lydia want to be close to her, but Lydia could not quite pinpoint what it was. She knew, or at least she sensed that Jan had an inner strength that could not be found in too many human beings, but some how, it was more than that. "Hey, Jan?" Lydia broke the silence in the
room. "Yes?"
"I was wondering, and I know this is going to sound rather odd coming from someone you hardly know, but do you think I could hug you?"
"Oh gosh, Lydia, I don't know. Don't you think you're being awful forward? I mean, really!" Jan laughed, "Of course you can, get over here!"
When they embraced, an intense bolt of electricity shot between them and Lydia pulled away from Jan in alarm. So, that's what it is, Lydia thought. It's that feeling, that wanting again. My God, I thought I had it buried. What should I do? I can't--no, not again. Lydia's thoughts were running like wildfire. |
As we read this excerpt, we see that
there is a love conflict between two women, Jan and Lydia. Lydia, upon
meeting Jan for the first time, is attracted to her. The conflict occurs
when Lydia has a “Oh no, not again” type reaction. This conflict
continues through the entire novel with both Jan and Lydia sitting at
the helm of the experience:
And finally, the conflict is resolved
much later, when both women grow tired of fighting their feelings:
Although it was dark in the bedroom, Jan could still see and feel Lydia's eyes on her, looking at her in a way she had never been looked at before. They were drawing her into Lydia's soul, causing her to dance there, and filling her with an intense, burning desire. "M-maybe you don't need to say anything, Lydia." Jan whispered breathlessly, "Maybe you should just close your eyes and let your heart speak for you." Jan closed her eyes, taking her own advice.
Slowly, their lips met. Their kiss deepened when they both felt the barrier that had always been present between them -- stopping them from exploring their relationship to its fullest -- break. Jan parted her lips and Lydia's tongue began to softly probe her own. Jan moved under Lydia's body, placing her arms tightly around her. She began breathing heavily, her heart pounding wildly when Lydia's lips touched her neck, her ears, her shoulders, setting them on fire.
Lydia began to explore Jan's breasts, tentatively at first, then with more desire as she felt the nipples harden beneath her fingertips, and she heard Jan's soft moans of pleasure. "Oh, God, Jan." Lydia cried out, "I love you so much. Please, please understand --"
"Shh." Jan raised her head and pressed her lips into Lydia's to silence her. "Make love to me, Lydia. Just make love to me." |
As you can see, criteria 2 and 3 from our
definition above have been met. We will now explore criterion 1 from the
above definition: adventure. Adventure is defined as (1) a daring,
hazardous undertaking, (2) an unusual, stirring, often romantic
experience.
A stirring, often romantic experience?
Ah! Has not Living, Loving, Lying
already proven to meet this criterion based on what we’ve already
read? Yes, but let’s look a little deeper:
Living,
Loving, Lying opens with our main character, Jan, being
told that she has a rare form of leukemia. She is, needless to say,
completely overwhelmed with her devastating news, but, as she leaves the
doctor’s office we begin to see some of Jan’s buoyant attitude, and
as a result we can sense that a great adventure is about to be born:
Jan walked outside into the cool November sunshine, her long blonde hair blowing in the gentle breeze. She filled her lungs with the crispness of the autumn air and noticed that someone nearby was burning leaves. Any other day she would have enjoyed it, but she couldn't today because her head was stuffed with thoughts. Her whole life had been changed, and practically overnight, and she was concerned about how she was going to cope. Leukemia. She would just have to accept the truth and deal with it, one day at a time, which was all she could do. She wouldn't accept this news as an automatic death sentence however. No, she would fight it with everything she had, if that's what it took.
Walking toward her Eighth Street apartment, she began to feel somewhat stronger, realizing that she had a lot of living to pack into a small amount of time. Realizing also, that this was just another of life's dark clouds. |
As we progress through the novel we soon
learn that there are many adventures: Jan chooses to not only go without
chemotherapy, but she also chooses not to tell anyone about her illness;
Jan meets/falls in love with Lydia; Jan helps Lydia’s young daughter
go through heroin withdrawal; Jan learns that Teri, her lifelong friend
and roommate is in love with her, to name a few. Finally, we learn a
little bit about what motivates Jan, and causes her to make the
decisions she makes:
|
"Never mind that, I'll tell you the reason I don't want anyone to know. I love my friends very much. If I tell them, things will change. They will feel sorry for me, cater to me because I'm dying. They'll tell me anything, just as long as I'm happy, and I will start to thrive on that kind of treatment. Expect it. Build up pity for myself and accept their pity. Then, before you know it, we'll be a bunch of plastic, phony people with a lot of resentment built up for each other -- I'll resent them for catering to me, and in turn, they will resent me because they feel like they have to cater to me. I just don't want that to happen." |
And:
|
“All I ever wanted to do was give and give until there was nothing left to give. That’s what makes life beautiful for me-that’s what keeps me going.” |
So, as you can see, this particular
novel, Living, Loving, Lying
meets all the criterion of the definition of romance, therefore, despite
the fact that it is of a different genre entirely, it could qualify as a
romance novel.
I have attempted, here, to redefine
romance in fiction-trying to remove some of the “stigma” that
surrounds the words “romance novel”, and expand it to include, not
just the sappy boy meets girl stories, but any and all novels/works of
fiction. Perhaps our friends in the publishing industry would be best
served by expanding this genre, instead of keeping it in a tight little
box and only accepting formula written works.
About
the author:
Kimberly Lark is a 36 year old female who lives in Orange County, NY.
She is the author of two novels, and several hundred poems. When not writing, Kimberly enjoys a variety of activities, including cooking/baking, crafts, and reading.
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