There comes a point in every reader’s life where they must ask themselves a vital question: how much of my understanding of the world is real, and how much is borrowed from books?
After years of spending time with my nose buried in a book, I’ve realised that my understanding of love and romance has been primarily derived from book characters and witty dialogues.
Which brings us to my current problem.
Academic Rivals to Lovers Syndrome
I’d like to believe that much like the wands in the Wizarding World, you do not choose the trope; the trope chooses you.
Somewhere between the rosy lens of 7th grade love and endlessly charming book characters, I also fell in love with the idea that romance is most authentic when it begins with mutual academic disrespect.
You know what I mean:
- two deeply witty academic adversaries
- conflicting opinions
- the constant question of ‘is it debate or is it flirting?’
- Emotional TensionTM
Real life, however, has been deeply disappointing so far. Nobody has challenged me to a dramatic intellectual duel as a look passes between us nemeses that can mean one of two things: ‘I hate you’ or an expression of utmost adoration. Or both.
So far… I’ve been stuck at chapter one.
The Overused Phrases Problem
I like to think of it as a literary bingo: if you’re reading a fictional novel (especially a romance), at least one of these phrases will inevitably appear:
- “He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.”
- The ad nauseum dimple/smirk/chuckle trilogy (I wasn’t aware that so many types of laugher existed)
- Overhearing one part of a conversation and having a daft misunderstanding that spans 50 pages for no good reason
- Enemies who are, for some reason, constantly available – how do you run into one person so often? Especially a person who you (apparently) hate?
- “He growled.” (no, he didn’t)
The Myth of the Accidental Touches
For some reason, characters in novels seem to detonate at the slightest accidental touches – every brush of an arm, bumping shoulders, and dropped object seems to cause emotional retrospection.
As someone who’s in a long-distance relationship with coordination (I’m not clumsy, just frequently surprised by where the ground is), if I burst at every little touch, I’d be more explosive than a Mentos dropped into a can of Coke.
In practice, accidental touches are just that – accidents.
Reality is far less cinematic than advertised… further evidence of misadventures will be documented in due course.
Yours truly,
Divi
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