Believing in just because
Years ago I watched the 1995 romantic comedy
Forget Paris
in the company of a female acquaintance. When the end credits rolled, so did her eyes.
“Why would we believe they’re going to live happily ever after now?” she asked. “They just spent the whole movie breaking up and getting back together and breaking up again.”
Her perspective startled me, though I knew she had a point. Why should we believe in happily ever after when the harsh nipple-tweak of reality shows us time and again how unlikely that is?
Do I need a smarter answer than, “just because?”
I think that’s what I told my acquaintance 16 years ago, and I’m not sure I’ve crafted a more intelligent response since then. But I do write romance novels underscoring the notion that happily ever after is a real thing.
I know, I know…show me the statistics suggesting half of all marriages end in divorce. I know about that firsthand.
But I like these statistics from Romance Writers of America instead: Romance fiction is consistently the largest selling genre, generating $1.368 billion in sales in 2011. In 2008, 74.8 million people read at least one romance novel.
That’s a whole lotta people believing in happily ever after. That’s a whole lotta people saying “just because” is enough for them.
This subject is on my mind a lot right now, since my current manuscript stars a character with some serious trust issues and a tough time believing in happily ever after.
And I guess you could say that theme landed in the manuscript as a result of what’s been simmering in my brain these past 18 months. I sure as hell didn’t expect to end up in a serious relationship so soon after my marriage of 13 years screeched to an unexpected halt.
But that’s what happened, and at least a dozen times a day, I thank my lucky stars for it. Still, I sometimes hear echoes of that old acquaintance’s voice:
“Why would we believe they’re going to live happily ever after now?”
As a recovering literature major and word nerd, I get poems stuck in my head the same way most people are plagued by earworm songs. When I started dating my gentleman friend that dreary spring, this poem bubbled around in my subconscious for weeks:
SPRING AND ALL
by Grace Bauer
March has come in roaring.
My dues are paid. I think
I'm in love and wonder
how I dare to trust the warmth
after living through so many winters.
Despite the dirty you bury
it under, the perennial
heart persists in breaking
through the cracks and into blossom.
Always counting on the odds
that April may be kind.
Lest I give the impression I’m a poetry snob immune to the allure of catchy love songs, I’ve got a playlist for my current manuscript that includes a song with a similar theme. The first time my Pandora station played “Crazy Faith” by Alison Krauss and Union Station a few weeks ago, I went scrambling to Google for a look at the lyrics.
These lines near the end of the song gave me goosebumps (not to mention a few ideas for character development in my story):
Love your losing, lose your love
Let the hawk fly from the glove
Do not search the skies above
Search your crazy faith
Love is lightningLove is iceIt only strikes the lucky twiceOnce so you will know the priceAnd once for crazy faith
I wish I could find a video of the band performing the song live, but this link will at least let you hear how chillingly beautiful it is:
Sappy? Perhaps. Brimming with foolish hope and crazy sentimentality? Definitely.
Sign me up, please.
“Why would we believe they’re going to live happily ever after now?” she asked. “They just spent the whole movie breaking up and getting back together and breaking up again.”
Her perspective startled me, though I knew she had a point. Why should we believe in happily ever after when the harsh nipple-tweak of reality shows us time and again how unlikely that is?
Do I need a smarter answer than, “just because?”
I think that’s what I told my acquaintance 16 years ago, and I’m not sure I’ve crafted a more intelligent response since then. But I do write romance novels underscoring the notion that happily ever after is a real thing.
I know, I know…show me the statistics suggesting half of all marriages end in divorce. I know about that firsthand.
But I like these statistics from Romance Writers of America instead: Romance fiction is consistently the largest selling genre, generating $1.368 billion in sales in 2011. In 2008, 74.8 million people read at least one romance novel.
That’s a whole lotta people believing in happily ever after. That’s a whole lotta people saying “just because” is enough for them.
This subject is on my mind a lot right now, since my current manuscript stars a character with some serious trust issues and a tough time believing in happily ever after.
And I guess you could say that theme landed in the manuscript as a result of what’s been simmering in my brain these past 18 months. I sure as hell didn’t expect to end up in a serious relationship so soon after my marriage of 13 years screeched to an unexpected halt.
But that’s what happened, and at least a dozen times a day, I thank my lucky stars for it. Still, I sometimes hear echoes of that old acquaintance’s voice:
“Why would we believe they’re going to live happily ever after now?”
As a recovering literature major and word nerd, I get poems stuck in my head the same way most people are plagued by earworm songs. When I started dating my gentleman friend that dreary spring, this poem bubbled around in my subconscious for weeks:
SPRING AND ALL
by Grace Bauer
March has come in roaring.
My dues are paid. I think
I'm in love and wonder
how I dare to trust the warmth
after living through so many winters.
Despite the dirty you bury
it under, the perennial
heart persists in breaking
through the cracks and into blossom.
Always counting on the odds
that April may be kind.
Lest I give the impression I’m a poetry snob immune to the allure of catchy love songs, I’ve got a playlist for my current manuscript that includes a song with a similar theme. The first time my Pandora station played “Crazy Faith” by Alison Krauss and Union Station a few weeks ago, I went scrambling to Google for a look at the lyrics.
These lines near the end of the song gave me goosebumps (not to mention a few ideas for character development in my story):
Love your losing, lose your love
Let the hawk fly from the glove
Do not search the skies above
Search your crazy faith
Love is lightningLove is iceIt only strikes the lucky twiceOnce so you will know the priceAnd once for crazy faith
I wish I could find a video of the band performing the song live, but this link will at least let you hear how chillingly beautiful it is:
Sappy? Perhaps. Brimming with foolish hope and crazy sentimentality? Definitely.
Sign me up, please.
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