Editing Rant: Romance is a Fantasy

Photo by Allef Vinicius on Unsplash

One of the hardest things about editing is understanding the underlying tropes/messages contained in your genre.

I recently told someone that Romance was a Fantasy – and they said they didn’t realize I was so cynical. But I was saying facts from an editing point of view – Romance is firmly in the Fantasy genre as a subgenre.

  1. The Chosen One trope is strong in this one. Only one person can do.
  2. Happily Ever After (HEA) required.
  3. Two people can make it work no matter what culture throws at them. Color, job, distance, income levels, family upbringing. Unequal social status. Love conquers all.
  4. The sex will always be good. The partners will always make the big O happen for each other. Sexual experiments will be welcomed. Sexual preferences will match.

Romances aren’t about what happens in real life, but what we would like to happen. We want the Magic of True Love to work.

Flash: Wood Dragon

Photo by Karen Cann on Unsplash

The dragon emerged slowly from his long rest, nosing out of the borrow he had hidden in so long. Green grass and meadow surrounded him, replacing the village he had burned to the ground before digging his nest, its people a forgotten memory by all but him

… and the archeology team carefully laying out a string square grid to dig up the speculated trade town of Briganemeto, best translated as “the hill claimed as sanctuary by wood”. With small shovels and measuring sticks in hands, the students and professors stared at the legendary creature.

The year of the wood dragon had begun.

(words 103; first published 2/11/2024; created 11/18/2023)

Flash: Painted Sunflowers

Image from Kristina Sepanidenko on Unsplash

“Alaina, what have you done to your face!” Debbie explained.

“I got it painted.” The young woman turned her face to show off her left cheek. “I got a flower, isn’t it great.”

“No, I mean yes, that is really pretty, but—” Debbie grabbed Alaina’s face and turned it to see the right side of her face, examining the design there in the glow from overhead street lights. “Why did you get a black dragon painted? I know it is the dragon festival and all, but black, and on the face, that is just asking for trouble.”

Yanking her face out of the other’s hands, Alaina said, “What are you talking about? I only got the sunflowers and bee painted.” She reached up and touched the one cheek with the bright yellow oils. Then she lifted to touch the part of her face Debbie had been manhandling. “I didn’t do anything here.”

“Oh, don’t lie, let me get this wiped off before anyone sees,” Debbie licked her thumb and set about rubbing the layered design, hoping to smear it to unrecognizability. “You don’t want anyone thinking you are a rider.”

“Debbie, Debbie, ow, that hurts.” Alaina tried pulling back from the determined woman. “I didn’t do anything there. And while the face painter offered some cartoony designs of dragons, she hadn’t offered anything that could be mistaken for a rider tattoo.”

“Just let me…” Debbie rubbed harder, “it’s not budging. What in the nine realms did she use?”

“Stop, stop it.” Alaina grabbed both of Debbie’s hands. “You are scaring me. Debbie!” she shouted, causing several of the other festivalgoers to turn their way, some of them stopping and pointing. “What is happening?”

Debbie slow blinked her green eyes. “It’s real. It’s not moving, it’s real.”

“Rider.” “Black flyer.” “Is that a girl with a dragon tattoo?” whispers started in a circle around them.

“No, I got nothing there.” Alaina assured her.

“By Moxie and Damion, come here.” Debbie pulled Alaina to a nearby storefront glass-plated window by their joined hands. “You just became a rider Alaina.”

“Please, who would choose…” Alaina stared at the reflection in the glass. “Women don’t become riders.”

“They do.” Debbie touched the glass beside Alaina’s cheek. “White or red, sometimes even green.”

“Maybe it is a really dark green?” Alaina leaned in close, but the Illumination from the night street lamps didn’t give much reflection.

Debbie shook her head. “No, it’s black.”

She reached out and touched the glass herself. “A dragon chose me.”

“It’s the Festival of Choice, when the dragons finish their second molting.” Debbie wrapped an arm around her friend. “New riders are always chosen.”

“But kids, or matrons, or trained fighters, or someone else, anyone other than me.” Alaina laid her head on Debbie’s shoulder. “I’ve never been chosen before.”

“You only get chosen once.” Debbie quoted the old saying.

“No one in my family has flown. Not ever. It … I mean …” She wailed, “I got work tomorrow!”

(words 501; first published 1/14/2024)

Book Review: The Wolf and the Woodsman

Amazon Cover

The Wolf and the Woodsman by Ava Reid

BOOK BLURB ON AMAZON

In her forest-veiled pagan village, Évike is the only woman without power, making her an outcast clearly abandoned by the gods. The villagers blame her corrupted bloodline—her father was a Yehuli man, one of the much-loathed servants of the fanatical king. When soldiers arrive from the Holy Order of Woodsmen to claim a pagan girl for the king’s blood sacrifice, Évike is betrayed by her fellow villagers and surrendered.

But when monsters attack the Woodsmen and their captive en route, slaughtering everyone but Évike and the cold, one-eyed captain, they have no choice but to rely on each other. Except he’s no ordinary Woodsman—he’s the disgraced prince, Gáspár Bárány, whose father needs pagan magic to consolidate his power. Gáspár fears that his cruelly zealous brother plans to seize the throne and instigate a violent reign that would damn the pagans and the Yehuli alike. As the son of a reviled foreign queen, Gáspár understands what it’s like to be an outcast, and he and Évike make a tenuous pact to stop his brother.

As their mission takes them from the bitter northern tundra to the smog-choked capital, their mutual loathing slowly turns to affection, bound by a shared history of alienation and oppression. However, trust can easily turn to betrayal, and as Évike reconnects with her estranged father and discovers her own hidden magic, she and Gáspár need to decide whose side they’re on, and what they’re willing to give up for a nation that never cared for them at all.

 

MY REVIEW

A vivid new world splicing together fairy tales, legends, history, and mythology from cultures usually not appearing in “typical” American storytelling. Both fantasy and romance, the story centers around Evike and Gaspar – the wolf and the woodsman.

The enemy-to-friends romance is at times naked, ugly, sweet, heartbreaking, fated, and impossible.

The fantasy world captures why the “woods” are dangerous beyond imagination, and the tyranny has shades where “it could be worse” allows acceptance of the unsustainable.

Faith and history clash and mesh depending on the day and person. The impact of refuge relocation and treaty marriages leaves children behind who must live with the strange guilt of those raising them – who both hate their mixed blood and have an obligation to raise it anyway.

A complicated, wonderous world, the Wolf and the Woodsman makes a worthy read.

Flash: As One

Photo by Massimiliano Morosinotto on Unsplash

Warning: Language

“If the true King of Alanis arose, the three Dukedoms would rally around him and defeat the evil wizard and his minions.” The dark eyes of Duke Lyrcon burned each of his equals in attendance; old though he might be, the warhorse remained a passionate speaker.

Duke Magneek strummed the table. “I’ve looked far and wide, searching the old texts. He that will rise to defeat the Black Eagle foe, to once again sit upon the Throne Sole. The single king, the Chosen one, the Dukedoms made whole.”

“Hold up, hold up.” Duchess of the Echoing Cliff, Brigette Hunfar, pushed the papers in front of her forward and then shoved herself up against the heavy old table. “You mean to tell me, you and my dad had been waiting on some myth to fix everything?”

“Not a myth,” Duke Magneek corrected. “The fulfillment of the Roget Prophecies, the most complete and accurate seer of the Grand Age and all the ages since.”

“So some dude, with no training or experience, is to fight that fascist bastard presently rounding up all Alanis people who have immigrated over the years into GreenVows and Nissey, and, according to our sources, either experimenting on them or executing them, and until he shows up, we have to wait?” Brigette’s voice got shriller the longer she talked. “That is some kind of bullshit.”

“Please, Hunfar, some dignity.” Lurcon crossed his arthritic hands over his belly.

“No, no old man, you don’t get to say that.” Brigette rounded her chair, making her attendants dodge to stay out of her way. “You haven’t seen the refugees coming across the mountains!” She threw out her hands pointing unerringly to where her lands laid.  “It’s fucking winter, you might not know it here by the soft warm waters of Capetown, but winter is insane, and they are STILL coming across my mountains! Dying in droves, but some still make it.” She took two steps closer to the others of the Tribunal of Dukes and slammed her hands on the table. “And instead of being there for my people. For the people needing aid, I’ve been stuck here for the last week getting briefing and explanations from Diplomat this and Department Head that about the state of Alanis. And finally, finally when you make yourselves available for my final indoctrination on the privy matters only the Tribunal knows, you tell me we can’t do anything but let that madman and his followers swallow up the rest of the continent, because we have to wait for some trumped up, sugar-coated bedtime story a deadman dreamed up nearly four hundred years ago?”

“The Chosen One will appear in our greatest need.” Duke Magneek tapped the two sheets of paper in front of him. “Patience.”

“Not only no, but fuck no.” The Duchess paced the other way around the table, pulling her hand through her hair, whatever her ladies-in-waiting had styled her this morning, long destroyed. “People are dying. Dying. Do you understand that word? And you know what is really, really bad.” She crouched across the table, whispering. “People here, in Alanis, are beginning to choose sides, like there is a choice between humanity and monsters.” The men leaned forward to hear her words, her words getting softer and softer. “You even say it,” suddenly she stood and shoved the portfolio the ministers had prepared at them, screaming “in these damn papers!”

Lyron frowned, his thick gray eyebrows meeting. “What would you have us do?”

“Fight, prepare, anything!”

“We have been preparing.” Duke Magneek stood and circled around his chair, leaning his arms on the ornate carvings covering the high back. “Our armies are trained and stand at the ready.”

“Then we fight.”

“We must wait.” The Capetown Duke said.

“You said with a single other person, this maybe King, and our armies, we can defeat the Black Eagle.”

“Yes, that is the prediction. All of us must act together as one.”

“As one.” Brigette stopped her pacing. “That is the true thing we must do. To wait is reprehensible. The murders, the cruelty, the treating of humans, any human, as less than human must stop. Let us act as one. We, all of us, can be the Chosen One. The Black Eagle is still small, he barely has control of Nissey, they are fighting GreenVows incursion tooth and nails. If we act, we don’t wait for some might-be savior, all of us, as one, we can win.”

“We have always waited on prophecy.” Duke Lyrcon said. “Prophecy always provided a savior.”

“But at what cost?” Brigette extended her hands to the older men pleading. “The DragonLords left the land scarred for centuries, the Blathid desert still stretches across a third of the Nexin continent, because Tiggin the Lionheart took three generations to appear once they finished their conquering. The Webzine race is no more.” She shook her head. “We can’t let that happen again. We know what happens when tyrants and genocidal monsters are allowed gain power unchallenged.”

“What if we lose?” Duke Lycron asked.

“Then we lose, but at least we tried.” Brigette bright eyes met the other two Dukes, and they looked away first. “Our armies are large enough. The others countries will stand by us, they are only waiting for us to act. As one. We all act as One. To wait until someone else steps forward is suicide. The countries need GreenVows will fall separately, too small on their own. But the dozen cities-state, and us, and likely the Dominion Church once they see the monsters created from Our People, they will rally around us.”

Brigette looked at her two advisors. Windsor, who stood by her father for decades, and Chopard, her personal guard and dearest friend. Though they did not know exactly what question she was asking with her eyes, they nodded that where she leads, they will go.

She kept her eyes on them, because at this point she was done. “Fuck the Throne Sole. If destiny insists on there being only one chosen, then let us act. As one.” She turned back to the would-be leaders, who were insisting on waiting for someone to follow even they knew what the right thing to do was, but they feared failure. “I will be returning to the mountains tomorrow, and I will be walking across them with the first melts in two months. You may join us or not, but my people and those we are helping will be acting as one. Fascism, lies, genocide, have no place in a world I want to live.”

(words 1098; first published 12/3/2023; created 11/25/2023)

The “text” inspiration for this flash came from an upcoming Aquaman movie trailer. Someone says to Arthur Curry, “If you lead, the seven kingdoms will follow you.” implying that everyone in the underwater world will let the monster take over unless a Chosen One popped up. Like Aquaman could defeat Mantis and his army on his own, and everyone else is just along for the ride. The reality is the seven kingdoms without or without Arthur Curry would win, he is just a figurehead to rally around. Why are they not acting NOW?

That got me thinking about how people wait for someone else to be the first to stand up against evil, letting evil gain power and strength. But if each person acted individually, yet also “as one”, evil won’t gain a foothold. Sometimes systems work against us, but sometimes they can work for us. Be loud. Define the system you want. Make a good system and act “as one”.