I write romance, the happily ever after, or in the case of YA, happy for now.
Yesterday was my tenth wedding anniversary. So what did the Mister and I do to celebrate? Mostly we just stood outside in near record-breaking cold making sure our two newly adopted puppies did their business. And worked. Yes, there was a lot of work. First there were our respective day jobs and then our respective second jobs–after getting our two kids tucked in and our puppies tuckered out, we each sat in front of our computers in different rooms working–him, programming and me, writing.
So where was the romance?
Here’s a little bit for you:
Yup, the daily poop report. But when you’re in the midst of potty training two puppies, the poop report is crucial. Little notes like that mean more to me than any sonnets or love songs the Mister could write me. They mean I’m not alone in this crazy life I’m leading.
Life is messy. Life is hard. It’s not all sunshine and roses. It has twists and turns, highs and lows. It’s not always what I thought it would be–sometimes it’s worse; sometimes it’s better.
Most of all, it’s just crazy. Most of the time I feel like I’m just struggling to keep my head above water.
So what about romance? Isn’t it important to keep a marriage going? Yes, it is. And there’s plenty of romance in my life–but it doesn’t always look like what you’d expect. Sometimes I think movies and books lead girls and women astray as to what romance is.
Real life romance is the Mister giving me the time, space, and support to pursue my writing dream.
Real life romance is a shared sense of humor and inside jokes that span over a decade.
Real life romance is the Mister spending the night on the floor in a sick child’s room so I can sleep.
Real life romance is the Mister still thinking I’m the most attractive woman in the world, even after two kids and twenty-five extra pounds.
Real life romance is knowing I’ve got a man beside me who has my back no matter what.
This is real life romance. It doesn’t always look like it does in the books I write.
And I’m more than okay with that.