Where Have All the Good Men Gone?

I like to write romance. Not Romance, but stories with romance at their core. Usually, the main romantic pair come to me as a unit. It’s their relationship that spark the whole book. 

Well, for this book, (I’m gonna call it…Project X), it was four women who arrived as the first glint of inspiration. Four friends. I can see them; I can hear them. I want to write about them. (Yay! Fantastic! Characters that feel real!)

I spent yesterday delving deeper into each of them, before deciding that I had to move on to the romance/antagonism. Great, I thought; now I get to think up hot men for my ladies (well, some of them; not all are into guys). 

Hot men. Boy, do I love ’em…

…Trying to think of some…

…*pictures Adam Driver smothered in oil*…

…trawls memory of all men I’ve ever fancied…

…looks lovingly at husband…

Yeah. I’m out. Stuck again, on the part I thought would be easiest. I can’t crack the romantic side to this book. I can see my leading ladies doing all sorts, except falling in love with a cracking chap. Why? Is it because this book is my celebration of women, therefore I can’t bear to give any power or awesomeness to a man? Unfortunately I need most of the romantic interests to be men, simply because I’m heterosexual and need to imagine falling in love with the characters. I also don’t want a book that promotes women but excludes men. Ugh. Sigh. BUGGER IT. 

I think my only option right now is to Muse a crap-ton. Listen to music. Listen to my fave romantic choons. Perhaps browse Pinterest in the interest of research. Perhaps watch seasons 2-4 of Doctor Who for the same reason. 

Of all the potential problems that arise when writing a book, I never thought this would be one of them. 

 

P.S. I answered my two major questions.