Well it seems I’ve been reading too many Romance novels and one of my current WIP is becoming more Romance than I originally anticipated. I guess I’m OK with that as that’s the road the characters are taking me down, it’s the story they want me to tell, but I know that their story is more than a love story and I just hope I am able to portray that later in the novel as it is still in it’s early stages.
Something that is becoming a theme in this WIP is the widely understood notion that money doesn’t buy happiness. My leading man is quite well-to-do, stereotypical I know, but it’s an inherited fortune that has been built upon, not some stereotypical, rediculously young, self-made millionaire if that makes you feel any better. The point is that money cannot buy love, happiness or other warm and fuzzy feelings.
As I read of the sad passing of G.R.L’s Simone Battle and speculation that her passing was the result of suicide, we are reminded that having fame and fortune does not mean you will have a worry-free perfect life. People who do not understand depression and mental illness, cannot even begin to understand how someone who seemingly has everything going for them, could take their own life. The point is that we will never understand what they are going through, but most importantly we can support others by not questioning their actions, not by calling them selfish, asking them why or by telling them to get over it. We can support others by asking one of the most simple questions, “Are you OK?” I know I have written about this before, with the recent passing of Robin Williams and I don’t mean to go on and on about such a sensitive issue, but it’s important to bring these issues out of the shadows and remove the stigma.
I won’t even pretend to understand what people who suffer depression go through, I know I cannot even begin to imagine the darkness they experience, but something that I am trying to encourage through one of the main characters in my WIP is the importance of communication. Not only asking that simple question, but being able to talk about feelings without fear of being labelled as weak or other such terms.
I leave you with a brief excerpt from my WIP.
“Rose is not a girl, she is a woman and I am a man. It was my choice to court her, it was my choice to ask for her hand and it was her choice to accept my proposal. The choices we made were for love, not for social standing, something which you would clearly not comprehend, dear grandmother.”
I slowly let out a breath that I was subconsciously holding, I knew he would be at my defence, but actually hearing him say the words was a relief, something that reinforced his love for me.
“Did you ever stop and think maybe it’s not love that your Dear Rose is after?”
The fury inside me threatened to boil over, disliking me for my working class background and lack of social standing is one thing, but implying that I am a gold digger, only after his money is another. Can she not see how much I truly love her grandson? When we met I knew Tommy was well-to-do, but as I began to learn circumstances which led to his wealth, I knew he was not a man led by his riches. Tommy’s parents died during the Spanish influenza epidemic in 1918, he was only eight years old and as their only living child, he inherited a substantial fortune.
“Dear Grandmother, I am not a boy any more, I am 22 years old and I am more than capable of making my own decisions. We are in love, we are married, we are a family and there is nothing you can do to change that. I also do not appreciate you implying that my bride is after our money. Rosie is an honest, kind and caring woman, such a thought would never enter her mind.” I heard him turn on his heel and head for the door, I scrambled to take my leave, as not to let on to my eaves-dropping, but I wasn’t swift enough.
“Rosie wait, please don’t leave,” I heard the panic in his voice, even after promising to love, honour and obey this man, he was still so insecure. I took a breath and turned to face him, his face was etched with worry. He rushed towards me, wrapping his arms around me and lifting me towards him, “I’m sorry you had to hear that, please don’t ever leave, I can’t do this without you.” I looked up into his eyes as his mouth covered mine possessively. After a moment he pulled away, looking closely at me as if he was trying to read my thoughts, “I wasn’t leaving you, there is nothing that woman could say that would stop me from loving you.” He shoulders relaxed a little but a look of confusion was etched on his face, “Then why were you running away?” I felt the heat as my cheeks flushed, “I was embarrassed that I was caught eaves-dropping.” The man I loved gazed at me with passion in his eyes, “My dear Rosie, you’ve done far worse things than eaves-dropping on a conversation,” he purred suggestively.
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