by Cari Eden Kindl

Created on: November 06, 2008

I have always wanted to write a romance novel. To use phrases like "throbbing manhood" and "the fire in her loins and smoldering gentle persuasion" and get away with it is just so tempting but I just can't bring myself to do it. Somehow I find myself imposing upon my simple characters seeking the meaning of life and true love these rational solutions rather than deep thought provoking dialogs ruining any chance of drama and conflict. The estate manager longs for the servant girl and pressures her into submission with his charm and subtle words implying blackmail or harmful deeds in the event that he doesn't get his way. She cannot resist his advances for fear that. . . what? Kick him in the nuts and tell the authorities. He has to sleep sometime. And there you are. I've lost it.

Getting lost in a romance novel is so gratifying. I would love to be a part of taking people on that journey to far away lands where mysterious and intriguing people are engaged in well, mystery and intrigue. It is so frustrating to me that I just can't write one. Part of my problem is that I have traveled quite a bit in my life and I am not exactly a young impressionable girl anymore. I have been jaded by true love. The fact is when we do find true love as all characters seem to do at the end of a good romance novel, or everyone dies, we realize that every little thing is romantic, every word, every sight and sound. The passion is tamed and the places are forgettable. All you can see is the one you love.

If I were to write a romance novel this is how it would go:

"The wind swept across the soft green grass blowing over the beer cans that they had left on the lawn the night before. They woke to find themselves in each other's arms entangled in the hammock their skin red and swollen from mosquito bites. The sun was shining brightly through the trees and birds sang their morning song. So they had to go inside to get some peace and quiet. A ragged jeep screeched to a halt in the dusty road to take them to the secret pyramid, but they waved him on deciding that they would rather have tequila and watch the game."

You see, my experiences of romance have clouded my ability to conjure up the fantastic and left me with the mundane. They don't make for a good romance novel but they make for a great life. Of course I haven't given up completely on the idea. Perhaps I should practice by doing some role-playing. I can't wait to see how my husband looks in a pirate outfit.

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