As the predictably tedious wisdom of humans dictates all good things must come to an end. On a related note all Mills & Boon novels must end as well, usually with some lip-locking and a few grand promises between two people standing somewhere expensive. Romance fiction is defined by its happy endings and there is no room for manoeuvre when it comes to the meaning of the word happy. Therefore every Harlequin book must conclude in the same manner, with the hero apologising for his previous errors in judgement and the heroine accepting his behaviour in exchange for money and babies. Authors are perceptively advised to finish writing at the most delirious and idealised moment of a relationship, the initial declaration of eternal love, while leaving the reader to ponder the implications and whether it all worked out for the best. Despite this seemingly straight-forward lack of ambiguity Secrets Uncovered closes out Chapter Three with a brief lesson in how to conjure up the most satisfying of happy endings, helpfully spelt out with five tips that are fairly obvious.
What say you, editors. 'Be Creative – We know that it's hard to avoid happily ever after clichés and there’s certainly nothing wrong with a fairytale wedding or a baby bump but think of what new twist or spin you can put on these tropes.' While it is good to know that all the creativity we haven't been using up until this point may finally be expended, how does one think of fresh spins on pregnancy and marriages, besides making them secret pregnancies and secret marriages? 'For example maybe your hero and heroine get their happy family by adopting or maybe your heroine is the one who proposes!' Those certainly are fresh spins on conventional tropes and are sure to delight your readership of old-fashioned traditionalists, but is this really the most ambitious subversions we can hope for, and would such things ever be accepted in idealised romance? Has the time come for assertive, modern women to buy their own engagement rings and out-source baby-making to those physically capable? What will become of our beloved commitment-phobic alpha males now such contemporary heroines have found a way to build a domestic life without needing a man's willingness, bended knee or sperm?
'Your ending should belong to your characters – Make sure that it grows organically out of who your characters are. As you write keep asking yourself what the characters want most in the world, why they want it, and what’s stopping them from achieving it.' While this piece of advice suggests authors must guide their archetypes to a contractually-obligated finale with a natural grace that belies the truth, every love story depends upon an allusion to destiny and complex ethereal forces that do not exist. Therefore with a hero and heroine so utterly hopeless without one another and barely able to function in their successful careers or contented home lives the inescapable choice of being together can be tailored organically because the characters are simply too shallow to think of alternative ideas. This somehow brings us on suitably to the next point where Secrets Uncovered explains how murder mysteries are basically romances, except a murder is replaced by a meet cute and a chase after the guilty party is largely retained. 'The solution, once revealed, must seem to have been inevitable,' as Raymond Chandler once said, or as Harlequin put it, 'No shock twists for the sake of it!'
Of course there have been no surprise revelations in romance since Jane Eyre found a wife in the attic and Cathy discovered that Heathcliff was a ghost. Nowadays handsome millionaires turn out to be gorgeous billionaires and sexy bellhops are unmasked as Mediterranean Princes, which is hardly as devastating or dramatic as Mills & Boon writers seem to think. With the narrative structure involving dual internal monologues through an omnipotent third person narrator there is little mystery to intrigue the reader. The recent trend has given the author an opportunity to play on tension between hero and heroine, but more often than not this is squandered, as hidden truths are never particularly disgraceful and everyone concerned is far too polite and desperate for love to cause a scene. Consider titles such as The Truth about the Tycoon, in which the heroine learned that the man she loved was not only someone else, but someone richer, more famous and with a slightly more credible back-story. The supposedly shocking finale of The Domino Effect piled incredulous disclosure upon contrived decision until the reader decided on a suitable place to stop and never thought of the book again.
'Tie up all loose ends – Make sure you keep track of even the smallest sub-plot aspect, and that you resolve them. For example you can’t have a secondary character go for a walk around the ground of your hero’s stately home and never come back!' Actually them never coming back would be a resolution as there is a certain finality to never, but Secrets Uncovered argues a compelling case. While practically every Harlequin novel fails to adhere to this most basic tenet of story-telling few aspiring authors should send a secondary character for a walk and then not at least mention in the epilogue that they were eaten by a bear. The final hint treads on similar territory and even manages to repeat many of the same words, 'Resolve the central conflict – Most importantly your hero and heroine must face up to and overcome their internal conflicts by the time you reach the climax of the story.' Failing to do this is what separates actual finales from abandoned novels. After all, if your characters have not dealt with their neuroses and married then the chances are your novel isn't finished yet.
At this point Secrets Uncovered moves on to whatever comes after endings, leaving us to ponder what we have learned. What would anyone have learned from reading this cobbled-together collection of clichés? Well, there is more to writing an ending than simply typing THE END and closing your laptop, just as there is more to writing a novel than simply typing the first fifty-five thousand words that spring to mind. While readers know what to expect from the climaxes of romance fiction the ending remains a strong selling point of a book, rivalled in importance only by the hero. When a couple kiss and commit to several months of idyllic sex followed by endless months of painful divorce proceedings this moment of certainty and hope is the culmination of all the novelist has been working towards, the final definitive statement on love and happiness. This creation of life-affirming optimism is the very reason millions read Mills & Boon books, and continue to read Mills & Boon books, even though on numerous previous occasions they have been disappointed or betrayed by an ending. Every new bundle of synonyms holds a promise of capturing these feelings, and for an aspiring author there is both an implied and contractual obligation to see hero and heroine achieve what they desire and deserve. Meanwhile, when the dastardly, cloying, second suitor disappears on a walk and is later found to have been eaten by a bear his fate, while surprising, must be seen to have been inevitable. That's a sign of quality writing.
What say you, editors. 'Be Creative – We know that it's hard to avoid happily ever after clichés and there’s certainly nothing wrong with a fairytale wedding or a baby bump but think of what new twist or spin you can put on these tropes.' While it is good to know that all the creativity we haven't been using up until this point may finally be expended, how does one think of fresh spins on pregnancy and marriages, besides making them secret pregnancies and secret marriages? 'For example maybe your hero and heroine get their happy family by adopting or maybe your heroine is the one who proposes!' Those certainly are fresh spins on conventional tropes and are sure to delight your readership of old-fashioned traditionalists, but is this really the most ambitious subversions we can hope for, and would such things ever be accepted in idealised romance? Has the time come for assertive, modern women to buy their own engagement rings and out-source baby-making to those physically capable? What will become of our beloved commitment-phobic alpha males now such contemporary heroines have found a way to build a domestic life without needing a man's willingness, bended knee or sperm?
'Your ending should belong to your characters – Make sure that it grows organically out of who your characters are. As you write keep asking yourself what the characters want most in the world, why they want it, and what’s stopping them from achieving it.' While this piece of advice suggests authors must guide their archetypes to a contractually-obligated finale with a natural grace that belies the truth, every love story depends upon an allusion to destiny and complex ethereal forces that do not exist. Therefore with a hero and heroine so utterly hopeless without one another and barely able to function in their successful careers or contented home lives the inescapable choice of being together can be tailored organically because the characters are simply too shallow to think of alternative ideas. This somehow brings us on suitably to the next point where Secrets Uncovered explains how murder mysteries are basically romances, except a murder is replaced by a meet cute and a chase after the guilty party is largely retained. 'The solution, once revealed, must seem to have been inevitable,' as Raymond Chandler once said, or as Harlequin put it, 'No shock twists for the sake of it!'
Of course there have been no surprise revelations in romance since Jane Eyre found a wife in the attic and Cathy discovered that Heathcliff was a ghost. Nowadays handsome millionaires turn out to be gorgeous billionaires and sexy bellhops are unmasked as Mediterranean Princes, which is hardly as devastating or dramatic as Mills & Boon writers seem to think. With the narrative structure involving dual internal monologues through an omnipotent third person narrator there is little mystery to intrigue the reader. The recent trend has given the author an opportunity to play on tension between hero and heroine, but more often than not this is squandered, as hidden truths are never particularly disgraceful and everyone concerned is far too polite and desperate for love to cause a scene. Consider titles such as The Truth about the Tycoon, in which the heroine learned that the man she loved was not only someone else, but someone richer, more famous and with a slightly more credible back-story. The supposedly shocking finale of The Domino Effect piled incredulous disclosure upon contrived decision until the reader decided on a suitable place to stop and never thought of the book again.
'Tie up all loose ends – Make sure you keep track of even the smallest sub-plot aspect, and that you resolve them. For example you can’t have a secondary character go for a walk around the ground of your hero’s stately home and never come back!' Actually them never coming back would be a resolution as there is a certain finality to never, but Secrets Uncovered argues a compelling case. While practically every Harlequin novel fails to adhere to this most basic tenet of story-telling few aspiring authors should send a secondary character for a walk and then not at least mention in the epilogue that they were eaten by a bear. The final hint treads on similar territory and even manages to repeat many of the same words, 'Resolve the central conflict – Most importantly your hero and heroine must face up to and overcome their internal conflicts by the time you reach the climax of the story.' Failing to do this is what separates actual finales from abandoned novels. After all, if your characters have not dealt with their neuroses and married then the chances are your novel isn't finished yet.
At this point Secrets Uncovered moves on to whatever comes after endings, leaving us to ponder what we have learned. What would anyone have learned from reading this cobbled-together collection of clichés? Well, there is more to writing an ending than simply typing THE END and closing your laptop, just as there is more to writing a novel than simply typing the first fifty-five thousand words that spring to mind. While readers know what to expect from the climaxes of romance fiction the ending remains a strong selling point of a book, rivalled in importance only by the hero. When a couple kiss and commit to several months of idyllic sex followed by endless months of painful divorce proceedings this moment of certainty and hope is the culmination of all the novelist has been working towards, the final definitive statement on love and happiness. This creation of life-affirming optimism is the very reason millions read Mills & Boon books, and continue to read Mills & Boon books, even though on numerous previous occasions they have been disappointed or betrayed by an ending. Every new bundle of synonyms holds a promise of capturing these feelings, and for an aspiring author there is both an implied and contractual obligation to see hero and heroine achieve what they desire and deserve. Meanwhile, when the dastardly, cloying, second suitor disappears on a walk and is later found to have been eaten by a bear his fate, while surprising, must be seen to have been inevitable. That's a sign of quality writing.
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