Last week, a friend informed me she needed to get up at 4 a.m. for a wedding.
“What the hell kind of wedding happens at 4 a.m.?” I demanded. “Tell me you at least get to wear pajamas.”
“I’m wearing a tiara,” she said. “It’s a party for the royal wedding. William and Kate?”
I frowned. “Is that the couple that got drunk at your Memorial Day party and tried to light farts over the barbecue?”
She stared at me like I had lizards coming out of my eye sockets – which, come to think of it, would be pretty cool.
Apparently, I was the only person on the planet unaware that Prince William was marrying Kate Middleton in the British royal wedding. Over the course of the next few days, my friend attempted to educate me about this momentous occasion. As the date drew closer, speculation grew.
Would Kate wear a tiara or a veil? What would the dress look like?
Much to my disgust, I found myself actually caring.
What is it that makes people so nutty about weddings? By “people,” I suppose I mean “women,” though I do know a guy – a perfectly straight guy – who was researching recipes for scones and clotted cream to serve last Friday morning.
I’ll admit it, I wanted one. Not badly enough to get up at 4 a.m., but close.
Still, it wasn't the scones giving everyone wedding fever last week. It was the pomp and circumstance, the hopefulness of it all, the promise of happily ever after. Who wouldn’t feel at least a little warm and tingly about that?
It wasn’t very long ago that a marriage proposal was a requirement by the end of most romance novels. Certainly the first one I wrote 8+ years ago had a betrothal, along with a lot of other abysmal clichés I’d prefer to forget.
Now that I’ve got three books scheduled for publication, there’s nothing in my contract requiring anyone to get down on one knee by the end of the story (OK, who wants to take the dirty joke on that one – Matthew? Sarah W? Malin? Linda G?)
Even so, two of my three upcoming romantic comedies include a proposal by the end. Interestingly enough, I didn’t have a clue with any of those three books whether there would or wouldn’t be an impending marriage. I was as surprised as the heroine when the hero popped the question.
Even when there’s no official proposal, it’s often implied in romance novels. Most readers assume the heroine doesn’t high-five the hero at the conclusion and say, “it’s been great knowing you, but I think I’d prefer something powered by AA batteries.”
|What? It was for The Debutante|
Ball. I needed it.
OK, show of hands – who watched the royal wedding? Who will admit to smiling a little at the sight of the dress? For those who read romance novels, do you have a preference whether the book does or doesn’t end in a proposal? Please share!
I have a phone call to make. I just remembered I need to get my damn tiara back. I want to wear it tomorrow night while I sit on the sofa in my pajamas drinking wine and reading smut.