An Affair with Romance

No, this is not me saying that I finally have a boyfriend (do I hear groans of disappointment? Hehe). Anyway, this is the entry I vowed that I would dedicate to all my book club buddies in high school (esp. Ten and Aei, to reminisce the days we huddle in a circle before class and talk about what Scotsmen wear) and for my suppliers in college (Trisha and Miyay). I said before that I would post it during the sembreak, but things as usual got in the way. I was also supposed to make it about the evolution of the romance genre (in hopes of sounding scholastic at least once in my blog), but again, I was sidetracked due to my mood (currently writing at the picturesque Ortigas Park). Anyway, this is just about my passion for reading, here it is…

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I’m having an affair…with my romance novels. It has been nine years since I read my first full-fledged romance novel (the real deal, not the Love Stories type or the Sweet Valley ones that are targeted for young adults), and I haven’t stopped since. I was optimistic in high school to think that I could afford every thick book that struck my fancy—this was soon crushed by overwhelming expenses on photocopies and the wonderful invention called Booksale. Because of this, my affair was sustained up to now.

I don’t know the exact reason why the craving to read romance novels didn’t fade at all. It’s heightened fiction, which is far from the realistic demands of a soon to be economist. There is also the issue that reading too much romance can seriously impair one’s standards of what love is. It’s not because of the “lovemaking” scenes, as most of the male species would like to believe (I recall a guy classmate of mine who was always inquiring the page where it was located every time he catches me reading a book). Though I’ve read other types of books, romance novels always have been on the top of my preferred list.

I think the appeal of romance novels lasted for me because of my great admiration for written work. I prefer to sit all day curled up with a book than going out (well, most of the time). I love how the authors just express their thoughts in a poetic yet real sense, no matter what time period the story may be in. The romance genre itself stands out for me since it exercises my imagination to the highest level (ala Rufa Mae) possible. Give me parts of castles and what members of the ton wear during the Elizabethan period and I could describe them for you. Reading romance novels also expanded my vocabulary and my come-backs, especially when I tell stories to my friends or thinking of a witty thing to reply. Most of all, it gave me a lot of insight on the human experience—how would people react to circumstances given their personalities and how could it change.

I have been selective so far in my choice of romance novels, reading only works from authors that I truly trust. Of course, I get the occasional first readings from other authors or other types of romance novels but only if they are lent to me. I also prefer historical and Regency period books compared to the contemporary ones, probably since the former requires more imagination (and I prefer the hero stereotypes in these books). I think that every female has a different brand of romance story preferred; I usually recommend books to my friends based on the ultimate question: “What’s your favorite romance story in Love Actually?” Since mine’s Hugh Grant’s story, I think that about sums up the type of stories I like—powerful men becoming fools (in a cute way) when in love, haha.

I am a bit disappointed with the recent collection of romance books that are released, since most of them are not anymore included in the genres I like. It’s either they are ultra-modernized (kinda Sex and the City brand of plots), or shifting to romantic suspense (my beloved authors, Julie Garwood and Judith McNaught are doing this—why oh why!??!). Plus, there is the increase of works in the supernatural romance aspect (I even read a vampire romance once, and another one where the guy is supposedly a sexy green dragon in natural form, haha), the motive for which is a bit beyond me. It’s because of this that I started hounding Booksale for some old books, especially that of Jo Goodman and Samantha James, to take me back to the types that I’ve always loved.

So there, I have no idea when I’ll grow out of my love for romance books, I’ll probably never will. Nothing beats curling in a nook armed with a great book especially on a rainy day. Plus, it is through this love for books that I started most of my treasured friendships :D