Love, or Something Like It

I don’t write about love very much.

Most of my poetry or short stories don’t centre about love. I’ve written about the aftermath of love, about the loneliness of a love lost, but never about the act of falling in love, or the moment of being in it.

This could be for any number of reasons, but I think there might be two in particular: 1. I think it’s really cheesy, and 2. I’ve never been in love.

Let’s tackle the first: Nothing bothers me more than watching a really interesting film or reading a great book with a complex and intense plot, lots of action and a really well crafted narrative and then, all of a sudden, a romance is thrown in. It doesn’t add anything to the story, it isn’t necessary to the completion of the plot, but the author/screenwriter thought it would be a good time to toss in a bit of kissing and a few long, lingering looks to amp up the sap level. Gross. A last-minute romance usually completely undermines an otherwise interesting story.

Don’t get me wrong: I love a dramatic romance as much as the next weepy sod and I will cry appropriately and heartily, but it drives me insane when that becomes an element when its not needed. For example: when I started reading Dave Eggers’ You Shall Know Our Velocity!, I was fairly intrigued. Unique plot, good writing, sympathetic characters. Then, all of a sudden and completely randomly, one of the guys starts talking about this relationship he has with a girl he meets on the beach. It’s not even an interesting relationship, but it becomes central to his writing. And it has nothing to do with the rest of his story. Urrrrgh. That ruined the entire book for me.

Second: I’ve never personally felt the effects of “being in love.” Of course, I’ve had experiences where I cared very deeply for someone, and I’ve also experienced heartbreak. Good books and movies, particularly articulate people, and acts of love I’ve witnessed have evoked within me a sense of what being in love must feel like, but I can’t say I have a personal well to draw from.

I think all good writing is based in truth from somewhere; good authors write about what they know. If I were to suddenly start gushing about the perfect relationship with a significant other, it would all be fluff and recycled ideas from other people. And that, my friends, is no way to create an original idea. Or, at the very least, one that is genuine.

In other news:

Today marks the last day in my project to blog every day for a full week. I’m going to still try to write as much as possible, for my own sake, because I feel like this has been a good outlet for me. I’m getting back into writing.. or maybe getting into it for the first time. In any case, I’ve started a few short stories and I want to start seriously working on a portfolio so I can maybe have a career, eventually. 

The tragedy of an Arts degree... now there’s something I can write about

Jillz