Romance Writing Problem: Don't Worry If It's Been Done Before

There are no new ideas under the sun and there's nothing wrong with that. Unfortunately, literary types who have read too many reviews in The New York Times (which tut-tut about "worn-out plots" and "hackneyed characters") will try to avoid this reality in extremely strange ways.

Possibly the holder of the most classic

high school yaoi plot--but how it

unwinds is specific to the author.

The result is not new ideas; the result is operatically weird old ideas that supposedly will take the world by storm by being so "extreme."

This approach is as tiresome as fans getting upset about plots resembling each other. "So and so stole that idea from . . . !" Sure, okay, but did you like what so and so did with the idea? Did they do something better? Or worse?

These complaints remind me of the peers I knew in high school who would immediately stop liking bands when they got popular. Oy vey.

There are a limited number of romance plots, some of which I address here and here.

In sum, most manga romances concentrate on (1) the meeting followed by (2) the problem, and (3) the make-up.

The problem falls into two categories: (A) one which is intrinsic to the characters, based on social standing (a doctor and a yakuza), misunderstanding (the girl or boy who falls in love with the popular student), or personality (extrovert v. introvert); (B) one which is caused by outside influence, which can entail a third party, social pressure, family debt,  and political machinations.

A long romance will almost always borrow from A and B even if one is emphasized over the other.

Take Sense & Sensibility by Jane Austen: Edward and Eleanor meet; there have the same social standing but not the same financial support, making Eleanor a "poor" match; their relationship is complicated by a third party, Lucy Steele, whose interference is due largely to Edward's personality/poor choices.

Or, take Venetia by Georgette Heyer; Venetia and Damarel meet; they belong to the same social class but Damarel has a terrible reputation due to his admittedly terrible past; interfering third parties separate them for Venetia's sake.

This 1-2-3 plot is not only respectable; it has been around forever.

Take Cupid & Psyche: they meet but Psyche can't see Cupid (or Eros); one is a beautiful mortal maiden--the other a god;  the mortal maiden's jealous sisters interfere when they persuade her to look at Eros (Cupid) at night while he is asleep; chaos ensues.

Nothing is gained by messing with this plot structure. Go ahead: turn the characters into depressed moderns moping about the bleak landscape, pontificating about their pointlessness in life. It's still the same plot. Or put them all on an island where they can kill each other off for a variety of motives. Same plot. Or stick them in poverty and show how they are kept down by "the man."

If it's a romance, it's the same plot. You don't like that? Don't read romances. Or try to write them.

What makes a romance unique is how the plot unwinds--that is, how we connect to the characters; whether we enjoy the dialog; and, most importantly, whether we feel a sense of recognition (yeah, that's what love feels like).

The politician, to the right, is blithe--he has already figured

out how to handle the scandal.

"Kiss Scandal," the short story at the end of Stolen Heart by Maki Kanamaru and Yukine Honami may not be an entirely realistic portrayal of American politics (a bachelor congressman and his male political secretary are accepted as lovers by the great American public--at least, the story is based in Maine, not Mississippi!) but the portrayal of the congressman as both manipulative (even of his lover) and sincere is so hilariously "real" to politics, the story works.  

Likewise, Constellations In My Palm by Chisako Sakuragirests and Yukine Honami operates on the highly annoying plot point of people keeping basic information from each other, but the realistic assumptions of both main characters give the volume a patina of reality--plus the one character's failure to pick up on basic household discussions, like his sisters discussing how to redecorate their guest's room, is too real not to be believed!

Likewise, shojo like Mars stretches the readers' suspension of disbelief with the sheer plethora of machinations by outside parties, but Kira and Rei's honest attempts to figure out their living arrangements bring the whole series back down to earth.

Even something as highly ridiculous as Kabuki by Yukari Hashida is maintained by the natural confusion of the main character regarding who exactly his one-and-only is supposed to be.

Rule 2 for Romance Writers: make the story personal, real, and yours. Don't worry about whether it's been done before.