On Writing Romance_ How to Craft a Novel That Sells - Leigh Michaels [39]
Another type of weak short-term problem is one in which there simply aren't enough honest differences of opinion or conflicting goals to keep the readers
interested. Misunderstandings that can be solved with a few minutes of honest conversation fall into this category.
In Beth Cornelison's long contemporary In Protective Custody, her hero, Max, is faced with his short-term problem when his injured sister asks him to hide her infant son from the grandparents who are trying to kidnap him.
Gasping her beliefs one key word at a time, she argued breathlessly that if the Rial-tos got the baby when he was released from the hospital, they'd take him out of the country and fight her custody rights. Her impassioned pleas for her child, even as she fought for her own life, wrenched Max's emotions in knots.
"You're only ... one I ... trust. Don't. ... let baby ... outta ... your sight. ..." Max placed his free hand over her lips. "Easy. Hush now. ... I won't let Joe's family get near your son. I promise."
... Relief softened the tension in her face. "You'll take m'baby? Hide?" ... What else could he do? The Rialtos didn't negotiate.
This short-term conflict is important, it's emotional, and it has very high stakes. Add to it that Max knows nothing about babies, and you have a built-in role for the heroine—who happens to work in a day care center and can't stand to see a child in danger of being mistreated or neglected.
The Long-Term Problem
The long-term problem is something about the characters' personalities or pasts that makes it seem impossible for them to reach a happy ending together. It's often called the internal conflict because it's usually something inside the character—a character flaw or a reaction to a past experience—that makes it difficult for her to make a lifelong commitment to the other.
Here's where lack of trust and reluctance to face unpleasant truths belong. With long-term conflicts as well as short-term ones, however, the more concrete the problem, the easier it will be to write the book. Rather than just saying that your character's problem is an inability to trust, look for the reason she can't trust.
A guy who's been jilted will have trust issues. So will one who was abandoned as a child. But the effects of those two situations will be different, so the actions and attitudes of those two men will be different even though they share a basic problem. The long-term problem may be something that makes the character reluctant to fall in love at all:
• She caught her previous fiance in bed with another woman.
• His parents experienced a bitter divorce and he doesn't want to risk having it happen to him.
• Everyone she's ever loved has died and she's afraid to try again.
Or it may be something that makes the character reluctant to fall in love with this particular individual:
• She's terrified of heights, and he's a mountain-climbing instructor.
• She grew up in poverty because her father was a compulsive gambler, and the hero makes his living running a casino.
• He rejected her once before, so she's afraid he'll do it again.
Often the long-term problems aren't shared with the readers until fairly late in the story. Frequently that's because the character herself doesn't recognize her character flaw until the pain of the current situation forces her to reassess the choices she's made in the past and the impact those choices continue to have on her life.
The readers may know right away that the heroine has been widowed but not find out until the last chapter that she's reluctant to love again, not because she adored her late husband, but because he was unfaithful to her.
Even if the details aren't shared with the readers up front, however, the long-term problem will affect all of that character's actions. The hero may not talk about his parents' tragic marriage, but his experience will affect how he acts toward the heroine.
Sometimes, in developing long-term problems for your characters, it's useful