My road to romance (novels)

Even though I know I don't need to apologize for my literary tastes, it's difficult not to do so when one's about to speak about romance novels. I think every despective word has been directed at them, even by people who - shall I say this? - don't read at all.

But somehow, to read a story about 2 people who fall in love is tacky. Never mind that some of the greatest books or plays are about that (Does Romeo & Juliet, or Gone w/ the Wind ring a bell?). If the main characters don't die or become separated at the end, it's trash.

Later I will probably rant about the possible causes of this contempt. For now, I'm merely going to list the reasons why I'm grateful romance novels exists:

1. I learned english because of them

2. They relax me after a stressful day, and have helped me pull through some difficult times

3. They sparked my interest in other genres

4. Last but not least, they have given me many enjoyable hours.

For me, it all began with Gone with the Wind. When I was 11 or 12 years old, I found a cheap copy in the attic. The book had been published by a magazine in a two-volume cheap paperback, with tiny letters and yellow paper. I had the bad luck of running into the second volume (which started with Scarlett's taxes problem), and even though I turned the attic upside down, I couldn't find the first part.

It didn't matter. I was completely hooked from the first sentence. I wanted to be Scarlett.

That summer I visited my paternal grandparents and found in their house the coveted first part of the novel. Needless to say, they never saw it again.

One year or so after that, the much awaited sequel was released. Even though it was by a different author, I yearned to read it. Finally, Scarlett and Rhett together...

At that time, I was going to get braces, and I had a couple of teeth pulled out. On our way back from the dentist, mom stopped at a bookstore to buy me a little prize.

My heart almost stopped when I saw a copy of Scarlett, a huge hardback with a glossy cover. The problem was that it was way too expensive, and mom couldn't afford it.

Never one to lose a customer, the saleslady recommended another book for me.

It was this one:

And I swear to God that this was the cover.

And mom bought it.

I was a little dissapointed I didn't get Scarlett, but any book is better than no book, and it looked promising. So I got into bed, my mouth full of cotton, and started to read.

The beginning was intriguing. There was this young woman, sneaking in the dead of the night into a prison to get married to a man condemned to death. She didn't even knew the guy, just wanted to be a widow so her father would stop nagging her to get married. But what happens then? The bridegroom is bought by her father's evil foreman as a bonding servant, and is sent to a tropical island, where the fake widow lives.

I had to admit that the endless descriptions of the island and the work the guy had to do bored me a little, so I skipped a lot. Actually, I even skipped their first lovemaking scene in the island, it was so lost among the descriptions of the trees and buildings. When I was halfway through the book, it suddenly picked up speed. Shanna, our heroine, has her "husband" kidnapped by pirates to get rid of him (yes, she was a really sweet girl). The problem is that the same pirates stormed the island and took her prisoner too.

And then's when the adventure truly begins. They have to work together to escape the nasty pirates, steal a ship, and go back to the island. It was like a Blyton's adventure, but with a lot more spice.

Even though I liked the book, at that point I wasn't really hooked into romance novels. All this endless descriptions were a huge drawback for me. Boring, boring, boring.

So I was a bit surprised by myself when, the next time I went to the bookstore, I was torn between a Blyton novel and a romance novel. But they sounded so exciting. There were knights, and feuds, and cream recipes you were warned not to make at home, as if they were poisonous or would explode.

Finally, this was what I picked:

As anyone who has ever read Jude Deveraux knows, her descriptions are short, the dialogues are funny, and at least this book is adventure after adventure. It's a real Road Cabin novel, where the main characters have to flee through England to Scotland and back being chased by relatives, and end up as prisoners in a castle in France.

This is also the last book of the Velvet Quartet, aka The Montgomery Annals, and after reading it I absolutely had to read the stories of the other 3 brothers.

Shortly after that, I came across Johanna Lindsey's Secret Fire and I was completely and utterly lost. Who wouldn't be after reading a Cinderella tale set in XIX century Russia?

By the way, I got Scarlett as a Christmas present, but was very dissapointed by it. In retrospective, I'm very glad mom bought me Shanna that day. It opened the door to a new genre that I've enjoyed ever since.