Bear with me for a moment, please. I’m going to get a bit personal here, but I promise there’s a point…
I’m grieving. It’s a weird kind of grief. It doesn’t feel free. In fact, I feel ashamed of my grief. My eldest daughter is going away to college. She’ll be a four hour plane ride away and it sucks so badly that I can barely stop the tears from flowing.
I say that the grief isn’t fair because she’s healthy, she’s moving onto something positive, and this is supposed to happen. In fact, I also want her to take this huge step in her life. Yet, I’m experiencing something I can only call grief. It’s a feeling that I’m familiar with. My mother has dementia so I’ve spent the past few years slowly saying goodbye and grieving.
Yet, I feel like I should be grateful. I still have time with her. I can hug her and smell her and spend time with her. When she’s gone, I won’t have that luxury. Still, I grieve and feel ridiculous and ungrateful for it.
Why do I share this with you and what the blazes does it have to do with romance writing?
Over the past month I’ve spent more than $150 on books, romance novels to be specific. Why? Because I’m so tired of grieving and overthinking and trying to figure things out that the only thing I can think to do is escape and my escape of choice is a good story with a happy ending.
More than a dozen stories have introduced me to sassy heroines and extremely sexy and uniquely charismatic heroes. It’s taken me to Victorian England and to futuristic Atlanta. I am profoundly grateful for every single word that I’ve read over the past month and every minute I was allowed to temporarily escape my grief and the trials and tribulations of everyday life.
As a romance writer, you must hold your head high and proudly proclaim yourself.
When someone asks you what you do, do you answer “I’m a romance writer?” If you’re like most people, the answer is no. Why not? You’re embarrassed, right? Somewhere deep down you might feel like your passion for writing romance isn’t noble. It’s frivolous and it doesn’t really matter.
I’m telling you that your romance stories not only matter, they’re essential. They make life a little better.
The other day I received a note from a subscriber. She informed me that she is a care giver and reads romance to her senior patients. I couldn’t help smiling. What a wonderful image. A room full of women who are struggling with the challenges of getting older, the likes of which we can only begin to imagine, and they’re enjoying a romance novel together. (As it turns out, they seem to prefer romantic suspense. Such smart women!)
Keep this in mind the next time you feel embarrassed, ashamed, or trivial about your romance writing pursuits. What you do matters. You make a difference.
Write on beautiful romance authors, write on! The world needs your stories.