A fellow writer asked me why I write romance. It took me a little while to come up with the answer.
I suppose it’s because I very much believe in the power of love and the strength of a powerful love. My 29-year-old son told me that he admired the way I never gave up on love, kept looking for the best. Pretty generous of him, considering the upheaval I’ve put his life through in the pursuit of true love.
I’ve tried writing in other genres. My friend’s are still waiting for me to go back to the sci-fi/fantasy novel. Funny, but that’s about love, too.
What I’ve learned in my quest for a marriage with a partner, someone who loves all of me, even when I’m not in the best of moods, (Well, that’s putting it mildly.) is that I needed to learn to love myself unconditionally first. It’s something I’m still learning. Like many women, I’ve had a love-hate relationship with my body and could never understand why some men thought it attractive. I am a work in progress…!
And I’m a sucker for a happy ending. I want it all, capably riding off into a magnificent sunset, perhaps painted by Charlie Russell, with the man of my dreams on a pair of matched Arabians.
A girl can dream, can’t she?