Author - Romantic Novels

I have always wanted to write a romance novel. To use phrases like "throbbing manhood" and "the fire in her loins and smoldering gentle persuasion" and get away with it is just so tempting but I just can't bring myself to do it. Somehow I find myself imposing upon my simple characters seeking the meaning of life and true love these rational solutions rather than deep thought provoking dialogs ruining any chance of drama and conflict. The estate manager longs for the servant girl and pressures her into submission with his charm and subtle words implying blackmail or harmful deeds in the event that he doesn't get his way. She cannot resist his advances for fear that he will . . . what? Kick him in the nuts and tell his wife to kick some more before frying it.

And there you are. I've lost it.

Getting lost in a romance novel is so gratifying. I would love to be a part of taking people on that journey to far away lands where mysterious and intriguing people are engaged in well, mystery and intrigue. It is so frustrating to me that I just can't write one. Part of my problem is that I have traveled a bit in my life and I am not exactly a young impressionable guy anymore... believe it or not I had more than 8 true love experiences till now... The fact is when we do find true love as all characters seem to do at the end of a good romance novel, or everyone dies, we realize that every little thing is romantic, every word, every sight and sound. The passion is tamed and the places are forgettable. All you can see is the one you love.

If I were to write a romance novel this is how it would go:
"The wind swept across the soft green grass blowing over the beer bottles that they had left on the lawn the night before. He woke up scratching his balls to realize although angel till he was awake last but she has taken all his share of blanket to leave his skin red and swollen from mosquito bites. The sun was shining brightly through the trees and birds sang their morning song... and he thought of waking her up with his melodic fart to get some coffee made... but then again if she woke up first she will capture the bathroom for next one hour. So he let his angel sleep while he left the bed.”

You see, my experiences have clouded my ability to conjure up the fantastic and left me with the mundane. They don't make for a good romance novel but they make for a promising life. Of course I haven't given up completely on the idea. Perhaps I should practice by doing some role-playing. I wonder how she will look dressed as a witch...