Some people say, 'Romance is dead,' but it remains more likely that romance was murdered, and its body hidden where the world will never find it. Now, Bewildered Heart has said out loud, to no one in particular, and written on these very pages, again to no one in particular, that a Mills & Boon novel practically writes itself. After all, the story structure is set in stone and all a writer must do is fill in the small gaps between obvious plot points. Every story should be personal, ideally. The main character should, at some point, wage everything they have on the outcome of their journey. Otherwise the story lacks dramatic weight and the reader will think, 'Isn't there someone more compelling I could be reading about?' Naturally, any reader who asks that question won't be leafing the pages of a Mills & Boon at the time. Mills & Boon fans are never so discerning.
Still, as our parents taught us, even idiots deserve some form of entertainment, and with this in mind, we set our structure out, thus: Our protagonist is a strong, independent woman whose goal is to meet the man of her dreams and become subservient to him for the rest of his life. You go, girl! Before she can become subservient to a man, however, she must learn subservience, because that kinda thing isn't taught in schools anymore. Thanks a bunch, liberals! There is a journey worth telling in there someplace. The deft skill used to master these sorts of stories is to burden your character with a hang-up, a hang-up being an emotional problem that forbids someone happiness, or more likely, the feeling that they deserve contentment.
A powerful emotional hang-up might be dignity. Therefore, the plot must revolve around a girl who suffers such a blow to her self-respect she is ready to fall in love with a brawny jerk who thinks feelings are a feminist myth. This idea, sadly, is too derivative of Katherine Heigl movies to work as an original concept, and we certainly don't want to appear derivative. Otherwise, a suitable obstacle on the path toward marriage is hope. Hope especially afflicts the youthful, who believe life is full of opportunities, happiness and wonder, and there is plenty of time to experience everything the world has in store for them.
Say, a bright-eyed woman goes to college and gets a corporate job and meets people and learns the effects of capitalism and rents a small flat with a heartless bitch who really isn't her friend, but saves a little money to get on the housing market, while along the way getting successively screwed over by a series of tactless and moronic men so she begins to drink after work in order to feel something, just anything, increasingly seeking distraction from the drudgery and pain through shopping and cocktails, all the time looking up at the city lights for a role model who isn't Carrie Bradshaw... Once she has done this and stared her thirty-year birthday in its smirking face she has succeeded in ridding herself of hope and will be able to marry, have children and move to suburbia. This must be what Mernit refers to as 'Joyful Defeat', if we assume Mernit misuses the word 'joyful'.
Authors should be advised to avoid plots that concern careers, as everyone has a career and when they are asked what they do for a living they answer, but deep down they know that what they do for money isn't as important as what they will do once they have it. A Mills & Boon book concerning work sounds tedious and dispassionate and, why, without passion, what are we? English? Now our aspiring novelist has built up many emotional hang-ups why tie them to a job, unless the job is symptomatic of the girl's troubles? For instance, she could be an environmental lawyer, beginning to see her idealism and hard work is for nothing.
There yet appears to be a Harlequin with this basic outline, so for now it seems to be the most viable option to move on with. We have developed our character (Heigl in a wig, and without the perkiness) and have given her a career and a journey toward a destination worth reaching. For the sake of dramatic intensity, a writer should always attempt to make such a journey as challenging as possible for their protagonist. The heroes and heroines of Mills & Boon are not regularly required to surmount difficult or exhausting trials and tribulations to earn their happy ending. This is a large problem for the stories of the series. Is it possible to set such a great challenge for a protagonist that the formulaic and predictable ending already agreed upon by author and reader can seem distant and even improbable? After all, is it not imperative to the plot-line that we, the reader, doubt the outcome and are compelled to read on to discover if everything will work out? Surely the fact that we know everything will end happily should not have to matter. Would such a huge overcoming of impossible odds render the giddy joys of eternal love all the more wonderful and satisfying?
When writing a Mills & Boon the author would be best served not fighting against the restrictions they are working within, but embrace them as disciplinary tools. For example, say you have a girl, a twenty-something virginal type, who is looking for the love of her life. We accept that in the first chapter she meets this man, and by chapter fifteen they have poured their hearts into each other and become one, forever. You cannot keep these characters apart, physically, as Hollywood might, by war or e-mails, and each chapter should bring these characters closer to what they have known all along, they are perfect for each other and in love.
The challenge might seem under-whelming, but in fact the challenge is over-whelming if only for the reason you have to stretch out a five hundred word short story into a fifty thousand word novel. However, this is the trap lesser writers have fallen into and you, dear author, are not a lesser writer. So let us begin by constructing an entire story around an ending, a happy ending of life-affirming love, and with an emotional journey suggested by this, we build the development of our heroine into accepting and embracing this love. After all, a Mills & Boon is about love, not the politics of relationships, as the two can be so easily confused. Therefore, the obstacles we throw in the path of our beautiful girl in search of love should all be related to love. Her goal shall not shift and her life will not be reevaluated, because her love is pure and her will is strong. Katherine Heigl in a wig and without the perkiness wants love and if you cannot maintain loyalty to this idealistic pursuit what good are you? And, jeez, if she can't find her perfect man, what chance do the rest of us have?
Still, as our parents taught us, even idiots deserve some form of entertainment, and with this in mind, we set our structure out, thus: Our protagonist is a strong, independent woman whose goal is to meet the man of her dreams and become subservient to him for the rest of his life. You go, girl! Before she can become subservient to a man, however, she must learn subservience, because that kinda thing isn't taught in schools anymore. Thanks a bunch, liberals! There is a journey worth telling in there someplace. The deft skill used to master these sorts of stories is to burden your character with a hang-up, a hang-up being an emotional problem that forbids someone happiness, or more likely, the feeling that they deserve contentment.
A powerful emotional hang-up might be dignity. Therefore, the plot must revolve around a girl who suffers such a blow to her self-respect she is ready to fall in love with a brawny jerk who thinks feelings are a feminist myth. This idea, sadly, is too derivative of Katherine Heigl movies to work as an original concept, and we certainly don't want to appear derivative. Otherwise, a suitable obstacle on the path toward marriage is hope. Hope especially afflicts the youthful, who believe life is full of opportunities, happiness and wonder, and there is plenty of time to experience everything the world has in store for them.
Say, a bright-eyed woman goes to college and gets a corporate job and meets people and learns the effects of capitalism and rents a small flat with a heartless bitch who really isn't her friend, but saves a little money to get on the housing market, while along the way getting successively screwed over by a series of tactless and moronic men so she begins to drink after work in order to feel something, just anything, increasingly seeking distraction from the drudgery and pain through shopping and cocktails, all the time looking up at the city lights for a role model who isn't Carrie Bradshaw... Once she has done this and stared her thirty-year birthday in its smirking face she has succeeded in ridding herself of hope and will be able to marry, have children and move to suburbia. This must be what Mernit refers to as 'Joyful Defeat', if we assume Mernit misuses the word 'joyful'.
Authors should be advised to avoid plots that concern careers, as everyone has a career and when they are asked what they do for a living they answer, but deep down they know that what they do for money isn't as important as what they will do once they have it. A Mills & Boon book concerning work sounds tedious and dispassionate and, why, without passion, what are we? English? Now our aspiring novelist has built up many emotional hang-ups why tie them to a job, unless the job is symptomatic of the girl's troubles? For instance, she could be an environmental lawyer, beginning to see her idealism and hard work is for nothing.
There yet appears to be a Harlequin with this basic outline, so for now it seems to be the most viable option to move on with. We have developed our character (Heigl in a wig, and without the perkiness) and have given her a career and a journey toward a destination worth reaching. For the sake of dramatic intensity, a writer should always attempt to make such a journey as challenging as possible for their protagonist. The heroes and heroines of Mills & Boon are not regularly required to surmount difficult or exhausting trials and tribulations to earn their happy ending. This is a large problem for the stories of the series. Is it possible to set such a great challenge for a protagonist that the formulaic and predictable ending already agreed upon by author and reader can seem distant and even improbable? After all, is it not imperative to the plot-line that we, the reader, doubt the outcome and are compelled to read on to discover if everything will work out? Surely the fact that we know everything will end happily should not have to matter. Would such a huge overcoming of impossible odds render the giddy joys of eternal love all the more wonderful and satisfying?
When writing a Mills & Boon the author would be best served not fighting against the restrictions they are working within, but embrace them as disciplinary tools. For example, say you have a girl, a twenty-something virginal type, who is looking for the love of her life. We accept that in the first chapter she meets this man, and by chapter fifteen they have poured their hearts into each other and become one, forever. You cannot keep these characters apart, physically, as Hollywood might, by war or e-mails, and each chapter should bring these characters closer to what they have known all along, they are perfect for each other and in love.
The challenge might seem under-whelming, but in fact the challenge is over-whelming if only for the reason you have to stretch out a five hundred word short story into a fifty thousand word novel. However, this is the trap lesser writers have fallen into and you, dear author, are not a lesser writer. So let us begin by constructing an entire story around an ending, a happy ending of life-affirming love, and with an emotional journey suggested by this, we build the development of our heroine into accepting and embracing this love. After all, a Mills & Boon is about love, not the politics of relationships, as the two can be so easily confused. Therefore, the obstacles we throw in the path of our beautiful girl in search of love should all be related to love. Her goal shall not shift and her life will not be reevaluated, because her love is pure and her will is strong. Katherine Heigl in a wig and without the perkiness wants love and if you cannot maintain loyalty to this idealistic pursuit what good are you? And, jeez, if she can't find her perfect man, what chance do the rest of us have?
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