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20101029_a_fairy_tale_by_temporary_peaceI am not by nature a light person. I am actually a bit melancholy, broody, intense. God is forever telling me to lighten up, to engage in something silly, frivolous, to stop peeling every darn onion I find. True story. He comes after me about it, too. One cannot be a light in the world if one is forever peeling onions to find the tears lurking between the layers.

So it is with some delight that I take notice of the fact that God delivered me just what I needed, something to laugh about and mock and ridicule. Surveys, genres, and romance novels. I have actually read a few romance novels in my day, but they often just annoy me. I don’t wish to disparage the effort it takes to write one, that is real enough, but consuming them is a bit like eating Cheetos. They are empty calories devoid of nutrition and the only reason you are gobbling them down is because of that orange cheesy goodness that is going to stick to your fingers.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that…

So surveys, public opinion polls, what do women want in their romance novels? Unequivocally, alpha males. I was quite dismayed to observe that pirates rate second from the bottom. The only thing less desired than a good pirate…..is a Viking. For crying out loud ladies, it is all about the pirates! And Vikings are nothing to sneeze at either! I can not believe so many women passed  over pirates and Vikings in favor of “alpha males.” What in the world do you suppose a pirate is? Some of them actually cut their own leg off with a rusty hacksaw! You don’t get anymore alpha male-ish than that.

Alas, the sisterhood has spoken, pirates are out of fashion, today it is all about the alphacropped-tango.jpg males. To tell you the truth, I just don’t get the attraction. Well, perhaps I do somewhat, perhaps it is just that your conquering hero is always so prone to relentlessly brag about himself, I just see him as such a poser, such a fraud. Weak, phony, possessing no real substance, and so insecure he must constantly remind us of his alpha maleness, least we forget. Here’s a hint, if you have to tattoo it on your forehead so everybody knows, you aren’t.

I actually find such displays a bit repulsive. Whatever happened to our strong, silent hero from the days old? Speaking of quiet, these alpha men tend to talk way, way to much. I mean, do they ever shut up about themselves? About 8 seconds into this conversation, my eyes begin to roll back into my head, my attention span is now focused on a distant wall. Just become the wall IB, you are one with the wall. This too shall pass. If the blasted man ever shuts his trap it will pass, hopefully before I nod off.

I have now read half a dozen pages of assorted romance novels. “It was a dark and stormy night. Cat-like she stalked her prey, camouflaged by shrubbery casting shadows that danced across his rippled chest reflected in the window. She groaned, thwarted when the moon rose calling her attention to the fact that it was now 2am.”  No wait, I think that was the one about alpha females I was reading, “Cougars of Mount Kilimanjaro,” or something.

It occurs to me that a bit of authentic romance would look nothing like what we see in books today and it could quite literally be called, “a fluff piece.” “It was a dark and stormy night. She curled up with four soft and fluffy kittens, men the farthest thing from her mind, as she smiled contentedly and reached for another piece of chocolate. The sweet solitude of a quiet house engulfed her, consumed her, satiated her very soul. Exhausted, spent, she drifted off, safe in the knowledge that should any alpha males ever set foot on her property, the gardener would shoot them outright and ask questions later.”

I rather like it. I may have to invent a new genre entirely.

vintage

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