On Writing Romance_ How to Craft a Novel That Sells - Leigh Michaels [43]
As you develop the framework of your story, keep in mind the importance of the characters' reactions to each other. Two hallmarks of unsuccessful romance novels are hatred at first sight and lust at first sight.
FALLING IN HATE
In many romance manuscripts, the hero and heroine meet for the first time and instantly fall in hate—often with very little reason for such a strong reaction. I'm not talking about them taking a dislike to each other or getting a bad first impression. I'm also not talking about people who knew each other before and were hurt by their past encounters, because it makes sense that they'd be wary of another round.
Hut many heroes and heroines leap to judgment in their first encounter—drawing conclusions violently and quickly on very little evidence—and then stay stuck in
that mindset. The longer it takes them to sort out the misunderstanding, the worse they look to the readers. But if you've set up their misunderstanding as the main conflict, you can't solve it quickly or easily, because then you've got no story left.
The biggest difficulty with the hatred-at-first-sight scenario isn't actually the misunderstanding between the characters, because sooner or later that will be cleared up. The problem is the type of people they've shown themselves to be. If they're so judgmental about someone they know nothing about, and so unwilling to take a second look before writing off another human being, what hope is there that they can ever be open-minded enough to make a marriage survive?
FALLING IN LUST
Many characters in unsuccessful romance manuscripts lay eyes on each other and instantly fall in lust. One glance and they're gone—totally smitten. He's been looking all his life for the right woman, and here she is; he just has to convince her to get married. Or the heroine's nourished a crush on this guy for a while, and suddenly he notices her and now she's over the moon.
Stunning, sudden, overwhelming attraction doesn't often lead to convincing love stories. If these two people are so aware of their feelings, what's standing in the way of them getting together? Unless it's a very strong conflict, it's hard to believe they can't work out their difficulties so they can ride off into the sunset and indulge in their attraction.
If the heroine's long-term problem is that she doesn't believe in marriage, but the short-term problem is simply that the hero wants to marry her, it's obvious that she's going to change her mind; it's a romance. But if she's open to changing her mind at all, why couldn't that happen in chapter two instead of at the end? You need something else going on—a strong conflict—to convincingly explain why these two people need time to solve their differences.
Physical attraction is not love. While it's an important part of the romance and the fantasy, it's not enough to sustain a true relationship. The heroine who can only think of the hero's great physique, or the hero who can't get beyond how his groin tingles when he catches sight of the heroine's sexy curves, isn't a very good candidate for lasting love. Heroes and heroines who have their tongues hanging out for each other before they know much more than their idol's name aren't in love, they're only suffering from hormones. Attraction can certainly lead to love, but they're two different things.
Awareness, on the other hand, is a necessary part of the romance. From the beginning, your hero and heroine should be alert to the presence of the other. The senses of each should be heightened where the other main character is concerned. They should be more attentive to each other than to others surrounding them. Each should notice what the other says and does. They may write off this awareness as purely sexual attraction, or they may not recognize that it has any basis at all in physical desire. They may believe that their awareness of each other comes from dislike or distaste for the other person.
In Raeanne Thayne's long contemporary Dalton's Undoing, the heroine's teenage son