“Dreams of fairy-tale endings don’t make good bed companions…”

So, you’ve completed your standard list of neurotic compulsions you always go through before you begin writing, you’ve sat down in front of your computer/A4 Pad/iPad, you have your cocktail/painkilling-narcotic/rum/coffee and an hour or so before the children come home to demand their standard post-school cocktail of painkilling-narcotics, rum and coffee… You’ve opened a Word file, and typed Chapter One, then what? Were you, perhaps, a little presumptuous to believe you could make up a Mills & Boon novel as you went along without any prior planning or thought? Sure, most Mills & Boon novels give the impression that this is how they are written, but how does an aspiring author actually go about writing one?

For help we desperately and somewhat foolishly turn to Trish Wylie. You remember our previous dealings with Trish, surely, from her One Night with the Rebel Billionaire to the ongoing joy of her blogging and stubborn defence of romance fiction against mistakenly perceived threats. Beyond that, there is also a series of helpful writing guides on her website with the lessons everyone will need to learn before they can write as successfully as Trish Wylie. Say what you will about the quality of her work, her books have been published, which means she has that special something Mills & Boon look for, but refuse to describe for the rest of us. Perhaps she has a feverish work ethic and the willingness to receive insignificant amounts of money, or a starry-eyed and occasionally offensive attitude towards relationships and women?

Whatever the reason, let us hope the answer can be gleamed from the many articles she has helpfully offered up, including The Blank Page and a Blinking Cursor, for decades the visual trope Hollywood has depended upon when wanting to illustrate a writer struggling. Now, as we have previously established on too many occasions to recall, a romance novel’s plot is set in stone from the beginning. After all, you’d be imprudent to stray even a little from the girl-and-boy-meet-fall-in-love-and-live-happily-ever-after formula, which works so consistently today, to varying degrees of worthiness. Therefore, Trish informs us, her starting point for any new venture is the characters. ‘And I don’t just mean their age, height, hair/eye colour, what they do for a living or even the plot and conflicts that you have in place in your notes.’

You have notes? The article is subtitled ‘Starting a Story from Scratch’ and here you have notes of the plot and conflict seeds? We’re off to a terrible start, but never mind, as the creation of the characters is a foremost concern, and hopefully all that story wadding will work itself out as we go along. How do we create characters, Trish, besides writing ourselves more attractive and have us coo at babies in supermarkets? ‘I name them.’ Huh. Any attempt to explain this bizarre and unnecessary behaviour? ‘Some find that it's better to plot out their story first, some will change the names to match the characters’ personalities as their story progresses, but I find just by choosing their names I discover a little about their personalities.’

Already you get the impression that Trish Wylie was the wrong person to ask, but let us labour on for the sake of updating the blog. Here at Bewildered Heart an aspiring author will find themselves best advised starting with the plot structure and working from there, only giving their characters hilariously inappropriate names as something of an afterthought. However, once you have written twenty or so romance novels, each with an identical storyline, you may find yourself running down a creative dead-end each time a new project needs beginning. Thus, read Trish Wylie out. After all, fans must fall in love with the hero and want to be friends with the heroine. They are the emotional centre and main selling point of your novel and you can’t just endlessly reproduce the same tall, black-haired, dark-eyed, square-jawed, arrogant, powerful billionaire with only a name change to separate him from the million others.

In terms of developing these characters then, Wylie’s next job is to find a photograph to use as a visual reference point, and has handily uploaded pictures of famous actors onto her website for the aspiring author to browse at their leisure. Scroll through and find your favourites! Bewildered Heart sees no sense in disowning Hugh Jackman now, so if we pair him with whoever this Pippa Black is, rename them Jack Hewman and Philippa White, before you can say, ‘This won’t work’ we have our two protagonists.

Ahead of typing and dreaming of Torstar pay-cheques there remains the conundrum of story, the reason for two beautiful people to come together and mate, besides their obvious physical and emotional attraction. Wylie calls this sequence of contrivances the outside conflict, which serves to, ‘sustain the story, draw (Jack and Phillipa) together when they'd rather be apart, maybe even throw them together under one roof to heighten the tension.’ Yes, true love needs time and misunderstandings to bloom, but how do we create such a set-up? Perhaps the answer can be found in the next section of handy advice, the aforementioned importance of setting. For example, as Trish Wylie did with One Night with the Rebel Billionaire, she took a photograph of Allison Mack, one of Jensen Ackles, named them Roane and Adam, made the girl a timid virgin, the guy a ruthless, powerful billionaire, put them in a mansion on a beach and then sat back and let nature take its course.

For we discerning authors, hoping to revolutionise the Mills & Boon genre, however, more studious thought is required. We are above such writing techniques as throwing a bunch of archetypes into a bucket and stirring. Yet at this point Trish abandons us to stare at black and white photographs of Keanu Reeves, and calling it ‘research’. Therefore, Bewildered Heart turns to Lynette Rees, author of the e-book Crafting the Romance Story, and assorted proof that she holds a position of authority on the matter. Rees sets out a simple guide to cultivating a plot, even throwing in such essay clichés as dictionary definitions, a Do’s and Don’ts list and the Asking of the Following Questions:

1. What do I want my novel to say?

2. Which character is best able to say what needs to be said?

3. How can this message be conveyed to the reader?

4. Where is the action going to take place?

Best to start with the easy one and the answer is we want our novel to say words, and to be more specific between 50,000 and 55,000 words. Rees, however, has an even loftier response, involving the crucial element of theme. What is our romance novel about? What is the message, the over-arching philosophy we, the author, wish to suggest to you, who in this case is also the reader? Any devotion to the romance novel should be foremost in the creator’s mind. After all, there is no money to be made in this industry, and no acceptable acclaim or appetising fanbase to enjoy. There is a soulless abyss of artistic bankruptcy, but that would be preferably pursued in the far more lucrative fields of crime thrillers or television.

Perhaps what Rees is not quite asking is why we would want to write a romance novel in the first place, besides the misguided delusion that it might be a lark or that through this oft-maligned genre we may reinvent love and save humankind. Reading the article, however, it becomes clear such philosophical ponderings have no place in writing guides, as Rees suggests a suitable theme is loss, whereas Bewildered Heart would suggest romance. So ignore all those pressing issues over whether you are wasting your life and start to think about an ideal location for your book concerning love, and maybe loss, with a pilot and an air stewardess soaring to new emotional heights at ten thousand feet.

‘Who? Why? What? Where? When? How?’ asks Rees. Good questions, but not necessarily in the correct order. Still, if you can answer all of those you are ready to write your book. Suddenly, ‘When all seems lost [the black moment], there needs to be a sacrifice made by the person who has the most to lose. Finally, they are triumphant, a victory is won.’ Bear in mind, then, at one point, at the end of the second act, there shall be an instance so terrible and dark that it can only be spoken of within the safe confines of brackets. Yet don’t worry, gentle reader, for usually the hero is the one to make a sacrifice, such as discarding his entire identity, to live ever after with the heroine who sacrifices nothing, thus giving your romance the contractually obligated happy ending, because, frankly, a victory being lost just wouldn’t feel like a victory.

“'This is crazy,' he said, his mouth pressed against her ass”

For the reader of Bewildered Heart, the name Trish Wylie recalls the title One Night with the Rebel Billionaire and the enjoyment of said novel and the further enjoyment of critiquing it, a review that can probably be found trawling through the archives. Or scrolling downwards. As with nearly all Harlequin authors Trish has her own website, her own series of romance fiction writing guides, her own weblog and her own Twitter account. On her blog, Writing & Other Assorted Forms of Insanity (a title of great offence to a writer, for numerous reasons) Wylie took time from her hectic schedule of writing in various forms to write a retort to an article that appeared online over at the Irish Independent, written by Patricia Casey and concerning the detrimental effects Mills & Boon has had on modern culture and Feminism. Oh no, she didn't! But oh yes, she did. In fact, she didn't, but Wylie couldn't resist needlessly defending her publisher and as a weblog who has read a handful of Mills & Boon books Bewildered Heart feels itself in a position of authority to wade into the debate. We read the books and therefore we get to make fun of how terrible they are.

Wylie's beef with Casey stems from the journalist's lack of first-hand experience with the material. Immediately you must be thinking there's an innocent journalist, an arrogant and knowledgeable author with years of romance under her notched belt, a classic misunderstanding and now a heated disagreement filled with tension, longing looks and unspoken desires. We're only two hundred pages of stubborn idiocy away from true love! You're foolish to be thinking that. Let's begin with the Casey article written for the Alternative Health section of her website. “The hero is tall and handsome with a thick mop of hair; the heroine has a sylph-like attractiveness, and is never overweight. She is often vulnerable and fragile. The hero may be a doctor, pilot or a billionaire while the heroine is a nurse, air hostess or poverty-stricken beauty. He saves lives through his psychological prowess and is always considerate and insightful. She, on the other hand, is gentle and supportive,” writes Casey, cryptically.

Isn't considerate and insightful the same as gentle and supportive? It is obvious that while Casey has never read a Mills & Boon her evidence comes from reading other articles about the same subject. She is merely recycling facts. And it is these recycled facts that Wylie takes issue with. Casey publishes statistics of the upsurge on electronic downloads proving that the digital era has facilitated the prosperity of the download and online markets. Amazon.com was really struggling before the internet was invented, dontchaknow? Never mind that though, because we covered this months ago. The idea that electronic downloads means young people can read erotic romance without having anyone see the book cover isn't Casey's thought, but Wylie shoots back sarcastically that Harlequin's success has, “Nothing at all to do with an increased need for escapism from real life due to the economic climate and the pressures people are facing on a daily basis. The same upsurge wasn't seen in the 1920's, was it?”

As Casey remarks, “In a complex and capricious world, a storyline that predictably culminates in a happy ending provides a degree of insulation against harsh reality and reassures the reader that good things can happen.” Trish Wylie can trash Patricia Casey all she likes about the lack of research in the offending article, but had Wylie actually read Casey's argument she would have found herself in agreement. After all, they are saying the same thing. This wouldn't be such a palaver had Wylie not rallied against Casey's ignorance for three thousand two hundred and twenty-nine words. “The handsome men and exotic locations capture the imagination and give a glimpse of what life could be like, although most women also accept their escapist value.” Casey ends her piece with such a shocking and hurtful statement it is no wonder Wylie was so upset. Her response to Casey pointing out how successful romance books are? Publishing figures showing how successful romance books are. That'll show her, Trish.

When Casey suggests sometimes books take place in exotic locations Wylie angrily points her to the Mills & Boon website where we are told the stories are, 'Set against a backdrop of luxury, wealth and international locations.' How dare she rephrase that poorly-written and grammatically incorrect tag-line! Then Wylie reveals the full force of her ire: “Was this after he saved her from an oncoming train by untying her from the railway tracks with 'psychological prowess'? In my seven years of writing romance, I can honestly say I've never had a hero kiss a heroine 'fulsomely on the lips'. Can't remember ever reading that description either. The heroine 'reluctantly submits' to her 'previously denied attraction to this tower of masculinity'? Hasn't been a whole heap of denying going on in my Modern Heat books. Or reluctant submission for that matter. And heaven forbid a woman should be happy the man she loves, loves her too! What woman could possibly want THAT?”

OK. You're misguided and your blog needed updating. We understand that, but you're nitpicking when you say you've never used the word “fulsomely”. As for the heroine's reluctant submission to a kiss from the hero? Bewildered Heart has only reviewed one of Trish Wylie's books, One Night with the Rebel Billionaire, and that is exactly what happens. The girl, Roane, isn't fond of the man, Adam, but then he surprises her with an enforced kiss, which she relents to after a brief struggle. So maddening was the scene part of the passage became a post's title. The anger never subsides, but there is one final disagreement worth mentioning and that, of course, is the fertile topic of Feminism. Casey makes a valid point, “Feminists have castigated these books for stereotyping women into particular roles. They claim that although there has been some evolution in the female characters over time, the constant portrayal of women as passive and submissive is unacceptable.” While these are Casey's words, she indirectly quotes from writers such as Julie Burchill, who wrote Mills & Boon books were 'rape fantasies', "Man chases woman, woman resists, and finally, woman submits in a blaze of passion."

Wylie, “Constant portrayal. Wouldn't that be another sweeping generalization? Considering this article is chock-a-block with the same uninformed, patronizing tone I've read before from the kind of feminists who haven't - and wouldn't be seen DEAD - reading a Mills & Boon, I'm finding it a tad hard to care what they think any more than they care what I think (unless it matches up with what they think, I should think). I always thought a huge part of the feminist movement was a woman's right to freedom of choice. As a modern, independent woman I'm no more going to have my reading preferences dictated to me by a card-carrying feminist, uninformed journalist or a literary snob, than I am anyone - be it female or male.” Maybe feminists could download Mills & Boon so no one would know what they're reading? But yes, to hell with feminists always forcing women what to do. Gawd, they're worse than men. From a feminist standpoint the idea of a passive and submissive heroine might be upsetting, but it is equally upsetting from a literary position. It's sexist, perhaps, but really it is lousy writing. Wylie is probably correct in doubting feminists care about Mills & Boon. No one should care about romantic fiction enough to write a lengthy riposte on their blog about it. The only person who cares the right amount seems to be Patricia Casey, who couldn't even be bothered to source her information.

“Man, but he loved her”

One Night with the Rebel Billionaire opens appropriately enough with gratuitous nakedness. But don't fret, nudity fans, because there's plenty more where that came from, all dealt with coyly and without description by Trish Wylie, a happy romance author, if you take her word for it. Her 2009 effort tells the story of Roane Elliott, a virginal twenty-seven-year-old whose Dad was the chauffeur for the Bryant clan, owners of the Bryant Corporation, one of those businesses that makes a fortune without offering any explanation of how. Since her father's passing Roane took a job flying clients and colleagues to and from the Martha's Vineyard Bryant home and the Manhattan offices of the company, trips taken daily because the Bryant dynasty hates the environment. Roane grew up with the Brothers Bryant, the younger Jake and the elder, the dark and mysterious and brooding Adam. Jake, the nice one, stayed and ran the family business, while Adam cut himself off from his disapproving father and has never come back.

One starry night Roane meets an enigmatic and gorgeous stranger on her company's private beach. She acts in shocked outrage, but revels in the sight of male flesh in all its dangled glory. You have one guess to guess who this man turns out to be. Did you guess Adam Bryant, the enigmatic billionaire owner of the Bryant Corporation finally returned to make peace with his ailing father? The Other Brother, or Adam, or The Guy would have all been acceptable answers. Now, what a pickle for dear Roane. On the one hand she's instantly infatuated with Adam and his sturdy forearms, rippled pectorals, thick eyelashes (the eyelashes get mentioned a few times every chapter), lazy smile and constantly changing eye colour. Yet on the other hand she's a woman of principle who doesn't jump into bed with any strange man, especially one who arrogantly dismisses her as 'Little Girl' and generally behaves arrogantly. Also, Roane loves Jake like a brother and loves the Old Man Bryant as anyone good-hearted loves a really old man. Not to mention she has had a lifetime of being aware of how terribly Adam treated both of them.

But these minor grievances are merely delaying tactics from the inevitable, and so Roane leaps, nay soars, into bed with Adam and finally experiences the orgasm she had until then only read about in bad romantic literature. Adam, it turns out, is an incredible lover and soon Roane is in love with him, despite knowing that soon he will have to leave Martha's Vineyard for that stuff that he was doing in places other than Martha's Vineyard before the story started. If that sounds vague it's because Adam is darkly secretive and Roane must use her delicate fragility to coax the truth from him. If that still sounds vague it's because the reader isn't delicate or womanly enough to coax the truth from the author. Happily, there is time for the giddied-up couple to indulge in some food shopping and outdoors sex before Roane is forced into remembering all those things about Adam she had been ignoring in order to find him a pleasant companion. However, these things are quickly resolved and had actually just been the result of a series of misunderstandings and plot contrivances. Phew! The only real trouble concerns Adam's relationship with his father, but that isn't important, says the book, skipping the matter entirely, because the father is old. Fuck old people.

There still remains one problem once Adam has finally been portrayed as a nice chap with only the best wishes for other people in his heart. Adam can't give Roane what she wants, and that thing is love. 'I want you,' he tells Roane. 'And I need you, God only knows how much,' but he cannot fully commit to love, because he doesn't know what love feels like. The implication being that God isn't telling. He touches a boiling kettle. 'Is this love?' he asks, with an endearing scowl. 'Oh, silly.' Roane replies, 'Why don't we look up Love in a dictionary, or on Wikipedia?' And they do and then Adam, despite all his intelligence, accepts that he's a ridiculous creation with no credibility as a human being. The End. As endings go it is pretty magical. The epilogue uses the future to emphasize how right the author was when she explained how these two were right for each other, despite the reader's reservations. In fact, Roane and Adam get married and have a baby and call out 'I love you' at inappropriate times in public locations. And thus the book closes at a brisk one hundred and eighty four pages. From a tricky meet cute the couple have made it, going from confidently naked to nakedly confident.

Continuing on from our discussions on the nature of hero and heroine construct, Adam Bryant is a fairly stereotypical Mills & Boon hunk of masculinity. He's cocksure, he's tanned and muscular, he has thick brown hair with specks of blond, his eyes change colour depending on mood, sometimes becoming hooded and lightening during times of levity. He's mysterious and abrupt, he is sexist and cruel and intelligent and a billionaire. And like the very worst kinds of men he doesn't fall in love with everyone he meets, instead falling slowly for the right woman and then mating for life. His only character flaw? Not being in love, an issue revolved by the end of the book, thanks to the hard work and dedication of Roane Elliott, your stereotypical Mills & Boon babe. She's a weak protagonist, but not weak in the virtuous way that all females are weak and therefore adorable.

Roane's journey involves forcing change on the personality of Adam. Her emotional obstacle would appear to be his misguided perception of her. She does not need to change, no, he only needs to see her for who she really is. This happens relatively quickly and then it is merely up to Roane to resolve Adam's problems which stem from an inherent issue of miscommunication over the Bryant Corporation's Assets and fraternal fighting liberally borrowed from Rumblefish. It is a wonder why novels such as One Night with the Rebel Billionaire are chosen as prime publishing fodder by Mills & Boon. Their clichés so clichéd and their stereotypes so stereotypical the stories become self-referential parodies of the genre. There is little here to distinguish Adam Bryant from all the previous and future Adam Bryants and even though he found the happiness he did not deserve the reader will always wish marriage to Roane Elliott on him as punishment for his pathetic behaviour to everyone who seemed to adore him for reasons they will fail to discern.

“She was the sweetest thing he'd ever tasted. All the sweeter because she didn't fight”

So intriguing was the blurb of the latest Mills & Boon selection no attention was paid to the title. A cursory glance at the front cover will surely persuade many to return the book to the shelf and forego the embarrassment of checking One Night with the Rebel Billionaire out at the front desk. But not Bewildered Heart. Oh yes, gentle reader. It was only a matter of time before we relented and returned to the treasure trove of Modern Heat Harlequin, and the virginal twenty-seven year old women falling for thirty-two year old bastardly billionaire rebels, despite vast and deal-breaking differences in personality and outlook.

Trish Wylie's One Night with the Rebel Billionaire concerns a rebellious billionaire, Adam Bryant, who returns to his father's billions, having previously gallivanted around the United States, frivolously frittering away the fortune of the man he detests and wants nothing to do with. Now back to deal with his ailing father's estate, this billionaire happens upon the all grown up Roane Elliott, daughter of the Bryant family chauffeur, the Sabrina to his and his younger brother's male leads from Sabrina Fair. Naturally, Roane immediately takes a dislike to Adam, because of his arrogance and perpetual penis-flaunting. He also demeans her with the pet-name 'Little girl' and barely even looks at her when talking to someone else. One Night with a Rebel Billionaire should not be confused with Wylie's earlier The Return of the Rebel or Claimed by the Billionaire Bad Boy even though they all sound exactly the same. But look here, a fellow review to tide you over until the final, definitive word.

During the natural struggles of comprehending the atrociously written Wylie prose Bewildered Heart remains committed to working through the American Film Institute's 100 Passions List, because this weblog's interests are nothing if not rich in diversity. Thus there was the enforced opportunity of Pillow Talk, a film that begins promisingly with a catchy bass-line and pillow-tossing and quickly descends into a disappointing mixture of beautiful, successful people being beautiful and successful and a personality clash overcome by the rejection of those personalities. It is always demoralising to watch or read a story in which character is used as a plot device, with a strong and wilful trait merely an obstacle preventing them from happiness. The female lead in One Night with the Rebel Billionaire hates jerks and doesn't tolerate being mistreated, ridiculed and bullied for being a silly little woman. She makes an exception for Adam, however, because he has thick eyelashes and so she quickly sleeps with him, immediately proving she is no silly little girl who can be mistreated and bullied. He'll learn to respect her the hard way, she reasons. This is why Mills & Boon books aren't taken seriously, not because they're satirically in on the joke, but because they're stupid and sexist.

In Pillow Talk Doris Day plays an independent lady, an interior decorator who lives alone, assisted ably by the occasional visits of an alcoholic. She shares a party-line with a philandering composer, played by Rock Hudson, and they argue because she has business calls to make and he's constantly chatting up his harem of giggly, easily manipulated girls over the phone. She thinks he's a sex-mad chauvinist and he thinks she's a frigid professional. They're both right and so, the film concludes, they're perfect for each other. Combined they make one whole person with a relatively healthy attitude towards sex. The course of true love never runs so smoothly, however. Rock's best friend is in love with Doris, but she does not love him. For reasons undetermined, but possibly due to his aversion to empathy, Rock decides to screw his only friend over and seduce Doris, thus getting revenge on her and alienating himself from all of his social circles. It's win-win. Because they only have a telephone relationship Rock convinces Doris he's a visiting Texas prospector with simple, home-spun values and a chivalrous nature towards women. Doris falls head over heels in love with the act, this is the man she's been waiting her whole life for.

The charade is untenable, of course, as Rock's deceit and misogyny are soon revealed by his best friend. Then the film somehow ends with Rock and Doris happily in love with their true selves and Rock's best friend happy and glad they've found each other. How this was achieved remains a mystery that not even watching the film helps to unravel. Nevertheless, viewers will always remember not being convinced by those story machinations they are unable to recall. Pillow Talk is a light and frothy concoction that works better when lovingly pastiched. As a film it struggles with an inherent lack of depth, but the main criticism of its place on the 100 Passions list is that it is not romantic and the two leads are impossible to care for. They risk nothing and supposedly gain everything. If you're not going for drama then make us laugh. If not laugh then at least feel. Why is it that throughout this colourful canon of romance we are subjected to men and women treating each other abominably, with love viewed as the natural progression from loathing? Why should we want Rock Hudson to be happily in love with the woman he only wants to teach a lesson?

Why are we expected to care what happens to Adam Bryant and Roane Elliott? He's a snarky and insensitive date rapist and she's falling in love with him even though she clearly sees him for nothing more than an attractive date-rapist, with thick eyelashes. There are a great number of references to the man's eyelashes. The ideal husband has thick eyelashes, apparently. Without knowing the secret of thick eyelashes it seems safe to assume the ideal husband also uses eyelash curlers and mascara. Even at this early stage One Night with the Rebel Billionaire may prove a troublesome journey. It was a slog to make it all the way to the end of the title. Yet there was enough rage-inducing insanity in the first thirty pages to prompt a sudden appraisal of story-telling errors. As the story slowly, teasingly builds to the spectacular narrative crux of the two good-looking people having sex, we must prepare ourselves for the inane bickering that will inevitably follow, culminating in more sex and some kind of resolution, where the man swaps his love of misogyny, dickishness and violent threats for the love of a woman, and the kinds of things the love of a woman brings to a man now shorn of characteristics. In Pillow Talk both Rock and Doris had sunk so low in their game of petty tit-for-tat revenge that they had reached a point where marriage was the only option left to them, and so there you are, with whatever possible conclusion you can draw from that.