I Love You

In celebration of Valentine’s Day, (cough), I thought we could talk about love.

Confession: I write romance, but I am probably the least romantic person in real-life.

I have no idea why that is. Perhaps it’s because in my family growing up, we never said it. I mean, we knew we loved each other, me, my mom and my dad. But we didn’t toss around those words lightly. We didn’t toss them around hardly at all. Yet I never doubted for a moment that my parents loved me.

Having spent a few of my formative teen years at an all-girls boarding school in England, I certainly wasn’t exposed to declarations of undying affection from anyone. That was the time in my life when I began to read romance, however, starting with Gone With The Wind. I suppose that explains it. While Scarlett throws those three little words around with fervor, Rhett plays his cards close to his chest. When he finally tells Scarlett he loves her, he means it. And it’s forever. At least until he chucks her down the stairs.

But you know what I mean, right? Most of you reading this are probably American. Incase you’re not aware, the British are very different when it comes to declarations of love. They are quite reserved for the most part, and just don’t talk about such things. As you may know, I’m a huge Downton Abbey fan, and I think the Dowager Countess is simply wonderful. And while I can’t find the exact quote, in one episode she says something like, “I suppose you’ll want us to talk about our feelings, like the Americans.” (paraphrasing).

I always thought it was rather strange, hearing my American friends tell each other, “I love you.”  I once had a best friend who left Bermuda to go and live in America. When she came back for a visit the following year, we hugged goodbye when it was time for her to go (I was about 11 or 12 I suppose) and she said those horrifying words. I didn’t know what to do with that. Years later, when my then boyfriend who turned out to be my forever after Prince Charming, told me he loved me, I wanted to know why. I needed to understand the meaning behind the words. Over at his house they threw those words around like a baseball. Somebody was always telling somebody that they loved them. It was such a foreign concept to me that I almost questioned the sincerity of it all.

Don’t get me wrong, I do believe in saying I love you. I just don’t do it often. My children know I love them. My husband knows I love him. And sometimes they will force it out of me for the fun of it in the most awkward of moments.

But you know, for me, those are sacred words. Words I don’t believe should be tossed around lightly. Words that once spoken, shouldn’t be taken back. Ever. I think this comes across in my writing. When my characters finally get to the moment of truth, when they know without doubt that this is it, this is that now or never moment when you’re going to lay it all on the line or forever hold your peace, you feel it. You feel it so deeply that it makes you want to cry. And sometimes you do.

For me, it’s a balance of the right words at just the right time. If I hear I love you, too often, my eyes tend to glaze over. The magic is somehow lost on me. Some people tell everyone they know, including the postman, that they love them. That’s definitely not me. If I’m going to speak those words aloud to anyone, it’s going to be for good reason. And I’ll mean it.

The funny thing is, I’m a sucker for a great romance novel or movie. I just love that moment where the two characters you’ve been rooting for get together at long last and just go ahead and say it! And then of course there’s the wonderful moment where the guy sweeps the girl up in his arms and kisses her like they’re never going to see each other again. Ahh, that’s what I’m talking about. Add a very satisfying ending to all that, and you’ve got yourself a fan.

So you tell me – how do you feel about saying I love you? 

AND THE WINNER OF SUSAN MEISSNER’S A SOUND AMONG THE TREES IS: LINDSAY HARREL! CONGRATS LINDSAY! I’LL BE IN TOUCH.

What Can Writers Learn from Television?

I meant to be good this year. I don’t normally watch a lot of television. But then I started watching Once Upon A Time. And then I started watching Hart of Dixie. And then…as I was innocently browsing around Facebook late yesterday afternoon…someone who shall remain nameless but not innocent who also happens to be my agent, mentioned Downton Abbey.

As I said, I don’t tend to watch a lot of television. When the set is on, my hubby is usually watching something. Like Food Network or Antiques Roadshow. The only time he’s ever watched PBS  is probably about a few decades ago when we had toddlers in the house. So this one has somehow slipped past me. However, being the curious type, and because my agent said she loved it, I decided to check it out.

As I live in a British Colony, hold a British passport and claim to have been partly educated in England, I love anything made by the Brits. Anything that features rolling hills, sweeping estates and stately manors has me sitting down at once. So sit I did.

Downton Abbey did not disappoint. A wonderful cast of characters with enviously authentic British accents. People of privilege who know how to use a knife and fork properly and which side your wine glass belongs. And there are those who serve them. The struggle of the social system of the day (just pre-WW2), a study in duty and honor and what is right. Along with a few deliciously horrible villains to spice things up. A wonderful plot. And let’s not forget the romance. All these things combined provides a treat for this writer’s soul. And then, to my horror, I discovered I’d missed an entire season of the blasted show. So of course I did what any sensible person would. I downloaded Season One and began watching immediately. I still have a few hours to go, but I believe I can catch up before next week’s episode.

Now before I get into trouble because this is television and not a book – let’s clarify. Any well-written television series starts with a writer who has an idea they are passionate about. It simply has to. Lord knows, there’s enough junk out there to decry this theory, but when you do come across that pearl hidden amongst the swill, doesn’t it renew your faith in mankind as a whole? When you’re glued to the screen, trying to out-think the writer and guess what’s going to come next and realize you’re totally stumped because it’s one surprise after the next, doesn’t it inspire you? Doesn’t it make you want to rush to the computer and start your own best-selling series? As soon as the one you’re watching is over of course.

Great writing, whether it’s a book or a movie made from a book or a television series that everyone’s talking about, excites me. It tells me I’m not alone in the quest for the next great story. I’m sharing my  passion to see another world come alive in front of me with thousands of other like-minded individuals. I am inspired. Awed. And I start taking notes.

I remember when my daughter told us about LOST. We spent months watching the entire six seasons together as a family, and it was a great time. My mind couldn’t keep up with the twists and turns going on in that show. It was genius. And I wanted to be genius too.

I think that as long as we’re watching the right things, writers can learn much from television. Even after just a few hours yesterday, I’m now thinking about my own cast of characters and the particular importance of having that one character that everybody loves to hate. I’ve not been particularly good at including these types in my writing thus far, and I’m challenged to do so. I’m not only entertained, but I’m being educated. It’s not a waste of time, it’s like a necessary extra-curricular.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. I shall continue to watch and learn and be inspired. And then I will write. And it will be good.

What about you? Do you learn from television?