On Writing Romance

by Leigh Michaels

The alpha hero is powerful, driven, assertive, masterful, dominant, superior, successful, and charming. The beta hero is playful, relaxed, nurturing, and caring, but no less successful and no less charming. Alpha is likely to run a corporation and be trying to acquire a few more. If Beta owns the corporation, he's apt to let someone else run it day-to-day while he coaches a kids' soccer team.

  Both are equally welcome in today's romance fiction, though some categories are a more natural fit for one or the other.

  Books published by Harlequin Presents, a short contemporary category, nearly always feature an alpha hero — a rich, powerful, and domineering tycoon like Lucy Monroe's hero from The Greek's Innocent Virgin:

  Sebastian watched Rachel disappear through the door to the kitchen, frustration knotting his insides.

  Could he have handled that any worse?

  He had made her coming to his bed sound like a meaningless encounter between two people intent on scratching a sexual itch. It was nothing like that. He did not love her, could not marry her, but he desired her with a multilayered intensity he'd never known with another woman. …

  When she came back in with the dessert, she gave him no opportunity to rectify his error. …

  His hand snaked out and grabbed her. “You're supposed to cuddle next to me, remember? … It is part of the special night you planned for me. …” He pulled her onto the sofa with him, before pushing the volume button on the remote control. Old movie music filled the room as he tugged her into a reclining position beside him. He couldn't help himself, but he wondered why she didn't fight it. She wasn't happy with him. …

  She gasped as they made body contact and he settled one arm around her waist. He looked down to find her eyes wide and her bow lips parted in surprise.

  “This is called cuddling.” He curled her against him as close as they could get with their clothes on.

  At the feel of her warm soft body, he forgot his intention to force a confrontation and simply took what was on offer.

  Sebastian is a purely alpha character — determined to get what he wants even if his wishes don't quite coincide with those of the lady in his life, and quite capable of charming her into changing her mind.

  In contrast, Harlequin American Romance, another short contemporary category, is more open to beta heroes — nurturers and protectors, like firefighters or law enforcement personnel, or hotel managers like Kristin Hardy's Gabriel in Under the Mistletoe:

  “You're kidding.” Gabriel Trask stared at Mona Landry, his head of housekeeping. “No water in the entire laundry room?” … If he cursed a blue streak in his head, it was nobody's business but his own. … “Mona, how's our linen supply look?”

  “Enough for today and maybe half of the rooms tomorrow. After that …” She shrugged. “I keep telling you we need more.”

  New linens, new plumbing, new pillars to replace the rotting ones on the west porch, new carpeting in the ballroom.

  Old budget. When his coal-dark hair eventually turned gray, he'd know where to place the blame. Gabe suppressed a sigh. “All right, we go to the laundry in Montpelier. … Find a bellhop but get on it now. We need the laundry to turn the job around by the end of the day.” Pulling from the bell staff would leave them short up front during checkout, but they'd manage.

  If necessary, he'd drive the damn truck himself.

  This beta hero runs a business, and he's a problem-solver, but he's an entirely different personality from the alpha example we looked at. What Gabe worries about is on an entirely different plane — water pipes, bed linens, rotting pillars, and who's going to drive the truck. It's hard to imagine him kissing a woman unless she was in the mood to cooperate — though he can be just as talented as his alpha counterpart at charming her into changing her mind.

  Often the most attractive heroes display a combination of alpha and beta characteristics. A go-getter who's out to change the world between nine and five, he then goes home and plays with the kids, helps them with their homework, and tucks them in with a bedtime story.

  Now that's a hero.

  Your Hero's Motivations

  When the conflict in your story pits the hero against the heroine, your hero must have a reason for what he does, whether you choose to go with an alpha or a beta. He doesn't stand in the way of the heroine getting what she wants or needs just to be nasty. He always has a good reason for trying to prevent her from succeeding in her quest. A hero who interferes in the heroine's life without adequate, believable cause isn't behaving like a hero. He looks instead like a control freak or a potential stalker — possessive and perhaps even malicious.

  The hero's reasons must be explained somewhere in the story, although often they aren't revealed until near the end of the book. However, even if the hero isn't talking about why he feels as he does, his motivation will affect all of his actions throughout the story.

  A Hero With a Past

  Though men are less likely than women to contemplate their experiences in an effort to extract a lesson, they're going to react to current situations based on what has happened to them in the past. The hero's past experiences — even things that happened to him in childhood — will affect everything he does and shape the sort of man he is.

  The fact that men are less prone than women to ponder their pasts can come in handy in the romance novel. A hero who is unwilling to commit himself to a relationship may not realize that his hesitation stems from his belief that a woman drove his father to suicide. He's more likely to think that every other man is just as reluctant as he is to settle down with one woman, and it may not be until he loses the woman of his dreams — the heroine — that he's willing to consider the source of his feelings and change his attitude.

  Rich Enough?

  The romance novels of a dozen years ago usually involved an immensely wealthy, upper-class hero. That fantasy is still found in many of today's romances, especially those in which alpha heroes appear, but across the range of romance novels, wealth is less prominent than before. There's nothing particularly romantic about poverty, and the readers want to know that the couple will be content with their standard of living and not suffer from a lack of basic creature comforts. But far more significant than wealth is the character's lifestyle and his level of satisfaction with his circumstances.

  Part of the fascination of a hero is his devotion to the work he does, whatever that work is. A character who is satisfied with a menial job is less appealing to readers than one who wants to achieve in his field.

  The hero of a romance novel is nearly always the boss. If he doesn't own the whole business (and he likely does), then he's an equal partner, or he runs his department with very little direction from superiors. He'll be the bank president, not the loan officer or the teller. Or, he's figured out a way to be independent within an organization — he might be a consultant rather than an employee. If he's holding a lower-level job, he's got a reason — he's not there because it's the only job he could get.

  Though the majority of romance heroes are businessmen (often tycoons or entrepreneurs on a grand scale), there are many lawyers, doctors, architects, and other white-collar professionals. A growing number of heroes are engaged in the dangerous professions of firefighting, law enforcement, and military service. Some are craftsmen (builders, plumbers, or carpenters, either by profession or as a hobby). Much less often, a hero is an artist — a painter, writer, musician, or dancer.

  Some jobs are perceived as dull, which is why heroes are less likely to be accountants, and some jobs are viewed as too powerless to be appealing to a hero, which is why few heroes are clerks in retail stores. But there are few jobs a romance hero could probably never hold — funeral director and proctologist are two that come to mind.

  Historical Heroes

  Heroes of historical romances are perhaps the most unreal of all characters in romance novels. Throughout the ages there have been men who regarded women as capable equals, but they've been the exception. Society's rules through history have encourag
ed men to think of themselves as boss, head of the household and family, and final authority on every question. Adultery was commonplace and sometimes even encouraged.

  Sometimes the hero of a historical romance starts out acting chauvinistic, learning and changing through the heroine's influence as the story progresses, but he must be more open-minded than most real men of his era or he wouldn't be able to make the transition. The hero of a historical is willing — at least by the end of the story — to treat the lady he loves as a full partner rather than as a possession. And if he had a mistress when he met the heroine, he neither has nor wants one at the end of the story.

  The historical hero is also the least likely of all characters in romance fiction to have a real job. Until the last century or so, the gathering and managing of real estate was the most highly regarded profession in Western civilization. Landowners were respected far more than doctors and attorneys, and immeasurably more than those who dealt in trade. The hero of a historical novel is often immensely wealthy because of the property he owns; if he's earned his money rather than inheriting it, he's not likely to boast of the sources of his revenue.

  The historical hero will spend his time much differently than the hero of a contemporary romance. Gambling was a legitimate pastime for the gentleman who could afford it, as in Jane Feather's historical single title Almost a Bride:

  The slither of the cards across the baize table, the chink of rouleaux as the players placed their bets, the soft murmur of the groom porters pronouncing the odds were the only sounds in the inner chamber of Brooke's gaming club. Six men sat around the faro table, five playing against the banker. They wore leather bands to protect the laced ruffles of their shirts and leather eyeshades to shield their eyes from the brilliance of the chandeliers, whose many candles cast a dazzling glare upon the baize table. The banker's face was expressionless as he dealt the cards, watched the bets being laid, paid out, or collected at the completion of each turn. To the spectators gathered around the chamber it seemed as if winning or losing was a matter of complete indifference to Jack Fortescu, Duke of St. Jules. …

  The Duke of St. Jules had always played deep. He had lost one fortune at the tables in his green youth, disappeared abroad to recoup, and returned several years later in possession of a second and even larger fortune. This one he had not lost, simply increased with steady and skillful play. … Rarely if ever did he allow himself to rise from the tables a loser at the end of an evening.

  Even a bad-boy contemporary hero probably wouldn't consider gambling as a profession, or find his personal mission in it as the Duke of St. Jules does.

  Imagining Your Hero

  What qualities does your ideal hero possess?

  What qualities would make you fall in love with a hero? Stay in love with him?

  Are there career choices or activities you would find most attractive in a hero?

  What one thing do you think even the most handsome and charming hero can't do, if he's to win his lady's heart?

  CREATING THE HEROIC COUPLE

  To be real, your characters have to be imperfect. They must have problems or no one will be interested in reading about them. But while heroes and heroines have almost certainly created some of their own problems, they can't have done so out of stupidity or shortsightedness, or readers will have trouble empathizing. There is usually a good motive — sometimes even a noble one — for the actions that lead them into trouble. If, for example, the heroine's credit cards are maxed, it's probably not because she has a closet full of clothes and shoes. She might, on the other hand, have been buying clothes and shoes for the occupants of a homeless shelter. If the hero's about to declare bankruptcy, it's not because he's been buying yachts and diamonds — but he might have been pouring money into a faltering business so his employees could continue to draw a paycheck.

  The problems the characters face are important to them — life changing, in fact — but they must also be important to the readers. A story about whether Susie can get Joe to improve his table manners isn't likely to keep the readers on the edge of their seats.

  Main characters should grow and change during the course of a story. Since they are facing life-altering problems and situations, it makes sense that these difficulties will change their perspectives, attitudes, and outlooks on life. The too-perfect character has no room to grow and mature as he deals with problems. But even in their imperfection, main characters have to remain likeable, even admirable, in order to be worthy of a story.

  Kind and Gentle Characters

  Heroes and heroines are unfailingly kind to those who are less powerful then they are. They are gentle; even if Aunt Agnes talks incessantly about her health, they don't snap at her or treat her like a nuisance. Heroes and heroines don't kick the dog, no matter how angry they are. And every last one of them has an honorary degree in how to get along with a kid while raising him to be a genius.

  Heroes and heroines don't gossip, and they don't generally take delight in the troubles of others, even when it's the Other Woman and she deserves it.

  They're only rude to each other, and even then, they're not hateful or vicious. Wisecracks and smart remarks are acceptable; cruel taunts are another thing entirely.

  Heroes and heroines don't lie, but they are allowed to be tightfisted with the truth. The hero, in particular, can be deliberately misleading if his motive in not telling all the facts is to protect the heroine.

  The heroine can be equally careful with her level of frankness, sometimes telling the literal truth but implying something entirely different, as Sara does in Miranda Jarrett's historical novella A Gift Most Rare:

  “I trust you would confide in me if something were truly wrong, my dear, wouldn't you?” asked Lady Fordyce gently. … “You would tell me if there was a matter I could remedy?”

  Oh, yes, thought Sara unhappily, of course she'd confide in Lady Fordyce. Governesses for young ladies were supposed to possess unblemished and virginal reputations. She'd never told the Fordyces that she'd spent most of her life in India, or that she'd been forced to leave in a rush of disgrace, let alone spoken of her unfortunate entanglement with Lord Revell Claremont. How could she, when any part of her sorry tale could cost her her place — a place she couldn't afford to lose — even with a kindhearted mistress like Lady Fordyce?

  “If there were any ills you could remedy, my lady,” she said with careful truth, “then I should always come to you.”

  Sara doesn't lie — she just allows her employer to believe that she's denied there's any trouble.

  Partners and Relationships

  Heroes and heroines don't commit adultery. While they may have divorced, they do not enter into a new love relationship while still bound by a legal or moral commitment to a previous partner. This restriction is largely a matter of common sense. If a person has so little respect for a spouse that he has an affair — whether it's physical or emotional — with someone new, then it's difficult to believe that he would be any more faithful to the new love.

  To a lesser degree, the same rule applies to other emotional commitments. A hero who is engaged is most likeable if the engagement is broken off as soon as he recognizes the attraction to the new partner.

  Whether the previous relationship was ended by a divorce, a broken engagement, a jilting, or a partner's death, the character does not enter a new relationship until there has been adequate time to heal. Rebound relationships often don't last in real life, and they're not convincing in fiction.

  The length of time needed to recover will depend on the nature of the relationship. It will take much longer to grieve the death of a beloved spouse than it will to get over a steady date who suddenly decided he wanted to see other women.

  Balancing the Heroine and Hero

  Main characters who are similar in style, in the amount of power they have over their situation, and in their degree of outspokenness create a nice balance in the structure of the romance. That doesn't mean they should act the same, or that
they must be absolutely equal in every way — just that they should both have areas and times where one is stronger than the other.

  If the hero has the heroine completely under his thumb, if she's helpless to act or to put him in his place, then he may look more sadistic than heroic. Pairing a heroine who's an in-your-face screamer with a hero who's the silent type may make the heroine look verbally abusive. A hero who makes patronizing remarks about a heroine who simply absorbs the insults is annoying, but if she talks back to him in the same sort of way, they're in proportion. (They may both be annoying in that case, but at least the readers can be equally annoyed by each.)

  If one of your characters has a great deal of power over the other, look for ways to even things up. The romance is far more satisfying when the power between the characters is like a teeter-totter — sometimes she's on the high end, sometimes he is, but readers don't know from minute to minute who's going to have the upper hand.

  In my sweet traditional romance Maybe Married, the hero wants the heroine, his ex-wife, to pretend for three months that their divorce hasn't actually gone through so he can pull off a business deal:

  He picked up his coffee mug. “So tell me what you want in return for three months of your life.”

  Dana drew her knees up and folded her arms around them. She looked across the street instead of at him, and said, “A conference center.”

  Zeke spit his coffee all the way to the sidewalk. “You want what? You have to be talking a couple of million dollars. Five, maybe.”

  “Actually, a nice round ten would be better.”

  “Dana, darling, I know I said something last night about a payoff, but you are talking serious money.”

  “I know,” Dana said serenely. “You can afford it — or at least you will be able to … your business is worth hundreds of millions.”

  In the first version I wrote of this scene, Zeke stated his demands and Dana, though she wasn't happy about it, simply conceded; he moved in and they took up their charade. But the scene didn't work — the hero appeared to be a selfish jerk and the heroine a wimp. In the revision, encouraging Dana to be true to her personality balanced the power struggle. Now that the characters each have a big stake in their bargain, and a hammer to hold over each other, the entire scenario is more enticing.