My dirty little secret
Sometimes, I really like to read romance novels. This is less due to the dirty bits (although that was my main motivation when I was in junior high) and more to do with the inane, sappy endings. Yup. I admit it. I'm sappy and romantic...at least when it comes to occasional escapist reading. The thing that I like best about romance novels (and romantic movies...watching Breakfast at Tiffany's the other night brought this on) is that the movie/book always ends at one of the most sappy parts of a relationship. The characters are at the point where they've overcome all the odds which conspired to keep them apart and they have chosen to remain together. Get married, whatever. The thing is, they don't continue on. There is no "stealing the covers" scene unless it's cute and can be resolved. The in-laws don't come in to visit. They never mention hot water overuse, children being anything other than wonderful and supportive or insensitive little comments which are tossed out by both parties. It all ends on a high note without mundanity (I know that's not a real word, but it's 4 am.) The women are always beautiful, strong and swept off their feet. The men are always kind, strong and sweep really well. The book/movie ends with both parties getting what they wanted...each other. And that's all that they need...until the morning after, which we never get to read about!
This is in no way a commentary on my relationship (so please don't be mad. I'm not airing dirty laundry). :) It's just a frustration that I have with all that escapist fiction. Several series of novels are very good in that they follow the exploits of multiple generations of families and so the reader gets to see that wow! Things WEREN'T happily ever after forever. This is good to realize. It is healthy. And it assists those of us who grew up on Disney and "happily ever after" that it doesn't work like that 24/7/365 (366 on leap years). Hell if I can remember what those books are...One series is by Sara Douglass and it's called "Starman" or something.
I guess what I'm getting at is that those books are like those dreams that you have where it's an amazing dream. It's so wonderful. Everything is perfect...maybe you're in your favorite fantasy world, or your dream job or something...then you wake up. Oh. Crap. Back to Mundania. Reading these books is kind of like watching good porn...it's idealized fantasy and it makes your own world look so much less magical.
Hoo. That was a mouthful.