Date: Sept 22, 2012
At a seminar this week-end, the comment was made that 56% of the books produced are - romance novels. Not a surprise. Thatís pretty much been the case for quite some time. Decades in fact. Because women READ. More than men. And that starts in childhood. At whatever age they discover books.
He also said, 15 minutes --- thatís what holds a manís attention and then heís done. The words I love you - in 15 minutes? No way. And Marry Me? Oh they will think long and hard about that... like, avoiding it. Like, it never crosses their mind. HEA? Nope.
Well, there you are.
Romance novels are what women WANT men to be. We already know what they are.
We want the gut churning revelation to the hero that, no matter what is going on in their lives, they NEED this woman, want to spend their lives making her happy, taking care of her, share everything with her, move heaven and earth to protect her, etc. etc. Because we want the man in our lives (assuming we have one, life or man) to behave that way.
And the Vampire (or shape-shifter, warewolf, or ware - whatever) has powers we would like our man to have. I donít mean their own fur coat. We want a man who can sense our reaction, whose reaction we can sense (double the pleasure), a man with staying power so we can go orgasmic once, twice, whatever, way before he will let himself achieve that. And a man with a pretty instant recovery time because, well, we have one.
And always they are well-endowed. It isnít the rippling abs, the biceps, the broad shoulders and the lean hips, all of which say that beer gut hanging over the belt is attractive - not! (And 3% body fat is way too thin!) We like different hairstyles, color, but we all like the attractive, the handsome. (Even if a lot of the cover models are hound dogs or gay hound dogs. Itís OUR fantasy...)
PBS tells us we are biologically attracted to the triangle, broad shoulders, lean hips, muscular body type that can carry the deer or moose or bear back to the cave. The provider. Cave-man style. Itís in our genes. So of course, we want to be in theirs, jeans that is.
The misshapen, too small, too short, too thin, too fat etc. need not apply. Those are tall orders for a human male population. Whether you are discussing the body, or parts of it.
Like the man said, 15 minutes. Iíve heard them say 5. A comedian has it right. Men are bottle-rockets, real ones anyway. Women have engines that turn over slowly but once you get them running,.... they can run for a long, long, LONG time. (Jeff Foxworthy discussing his wife.) And letís face it, besides Sting and his tantric sex, 99% of real males simply canít hold it. Are driven by one thought, get off. Sleep. And get away.
A vampire lover can go all night. Real men roll over and go to sleep. The smarter ones cuddle up and then pass out.
So OK, the real guys cannot compete with this kind of dream lover. However....
Romance novels serve another purpose. Foreplay. Most men donít understand that word. Most American men. The happy husband is one whose wife reads romance novels. His work is done for him. When sheís getting to that good part of the book, he just has to be ready... and men are ready every 15 minutes or so.
Iíve seen these guys, following their wives around carrying book bags, purses, whatever, silly-assed expressions on their faces. These are smart men. And they have happy wives.
And remember, if Momma ainít happy, ainít nobody happy.