Estimated reading time: 2 – 4 minutes
Why can’t unstable people have love too?
More specifically, why can’t unstable characters in romance fiction have love too?
This isn’t a new question for me. I ponder it every time I read Amazon boards, romance blogs, and comments in general. The public, popular consensus appears to be impatience with main male characters “Who act like jerks and are rough” and borderline disgust for main female characters “Who fall in love with these Stupid Jerks.”
There also seems to be mega-irritation for the writers who produce this kind of fiction. (While I too have irritation it’s not for the same reason; mine is for the premise of dark fiction that then falls back into predictable, category sweetness. Faux-dark…what a waste!)
Since when does a love story have to comprise of two socially-acceptable people? Why is the intoxicating liquor of love only worth to be drunk by those of pure hearts and mind?
It’s no secret my platform is dark, erotic, morally-ambiguous love stories. Miserable love stories if you will. I’m entrenched in telling tales about sinners. People who have made mistakes. Colossal mistakes. I write stories about lovers who’ve committed the unforgivable, who operate on a different plane with an unusual set of rules.
I create characters that would be villains in the majority of traditional romance fiction.
I write stories about “Jerks who are rough” and I always add a bit more—”Jerks who are rough, have sociopathic viewpoints, obsessive qualities, and are downright pitiful.” I create the women “Who fall in love with these Stupid Jerks” and also—”Women who are just as crazy, obsessive, and broken as the Stupid Jerks.”
My point? If you are a bit off, unstable, and just different, does that mean you don’t have a right for love too? Is there only one definition for love?
I don’t think there is. I think love can be so much more than the romance community’s socially-acceptable definition of “Gentle, loving male” and “Spunky, independent female.”
Just let me make this clear: I don’t think there’s anything wrong with sweet love stories. I think they’re lovely and I don’t mind reading them upon occasion. My stance isn’t to bash those types of love stories. It’s just to show there’s room for lots of different types of storytelling.
We all have unique life experiences that shape us. For some who have grown up in a stable, loving environment, love reflects that beginning experiences. For others who have grown up in a chaotic, unstable environment, love reflects those experiences as well.
Is the first person’s love anymore real than the second’s? I don’t think so. I just think it’s different.
Now this is usually the point where it can be argued that a person who grows up in an abusive environment and repeats those patterns in their love-life should be “cured” of such view points. I agree and disagree at the same time.
I understand the sentiment and find it noble. I also find it unintentionally arrogant. Why? It goes back to we’re all different. What I find loving and adoring someone else may not. What someone else finds healthy may not seem healthy to me.
We’re all different. Why should love and the telling of love be any different?
I’ve missed Julian & Lily as well. I’m...