I think I know why people read romances. I figured that out at thirteen when I found a Harlequin Presents left behind at the family cottage. But why write romance when there are so many “loftier” forms of literature?

Way back when I first decided to write a novel, I was thrilled to join a small, apparently dedicated group of writers who met once a week in a community building. They were “fiction writers” and I joined with bright-eyed enthusiasm and barrels of energy, eager to learn and absorb all they were willing to share.

The group consisted of a retired English teacher, an extremely talented writer married to a musician who was convinced he was the only creative in the family and she didn’t deserve the time to study craft or to write. There was a family man who wanted to write adventure. Another member sold non-fiction articles and had a fabulous idea for a women’s fiction novel. We had a woman married to a professor (for some reason she thought his position was relevant in terms of her ‘standing’ in the group) She was convinced that literary fiction was the only thing worth writing.

I found this group in October of that year…and had already begun my first romance novel. By January, I’d completed a partial and had queried Harlequin to see if they’d be interested. I never considered not querying. The whole thing of you write, you submit, you write, you submit just made sense.

Apparently I was alone in that theory. As time moved along, I realized not a one of them had ever submitted their work (aside from the article writer that is).

The retired teacher was actually afraid of what her family would think. This was a woman well into her middle years who’d raised a family, had a successful career and a genuine love of the written word.

By the next fall, I’d had my first rejection from Harlequin, (the first of many!) had found the local chapter of RWA, and was working on a new story. I wrote, I submitted, I wrote . . .

The chance to do a reading from our works in progress came to the group. I was asked not to read. Why? Because I wrote romance, and you know, they didn’t want the writing group’s rep to be tarnished. Huh.

I went to the reading: heard a member read a poem by Robbie Burns instead of his own work. Other people in the group finally admitted they hadn’t actually been writing and had nothing to read.

And these people were encouraging me to stop writing romance. Huh.

I write romance because I believe in romance. I believe love is what makes us get up in the morning. It is a driving force in our lives. Love makes us connect with others, makes us have pets, makes our lives glorious and miserable and messy and beautiful.

Love makes life . . . life

. . . and I wouldn’t trade my romance writing for anything else.

And if I feel a twinge of validation for my efforts and in my career I hope you’ll forgive me. There’s a five year old in most of us who gets a one-shot at blowing raspberries and when my first Harlequin Blaze hits the stands in a few weeks, imagine me, mouth pursed, blowing the biggest juiciest raspberry EVAH! (K)

This entry was posted on Wednesday, January 20th, 2010 at 6:00 am and is filed under Blaze Authors, Bonnie Edwards. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.