Happy Endings Guaranteed – Formula for a Romance Novel

‘He’ will race horses like a pro, box like a champion, be dashingly handsome, have a vast knowledge of greek, latin and french, enjoy flower arrangements, have impeccable taste in antiques and clothes, be a close personal friend of some Royals and earn the admiration and envy of every-man in town. [but of course, he is blue blooded and loaded to boot]

In other words he must be completely unbelievable.

‘She’ is beautiful, it goes without saying. An unrealistic romance novel cannot exist with the ordinary humdrum love of two average looking porkers [as we all are].

She will be poor generally [but of course, she is blue blooded, even if it is not known at first]

She must be innocent and virtuous. [hymen intact]

He must be a reformable scoundrel with a heart of gold that only needs mending.
[has inserted his penis into every women he could find but considers them all to be whores, hence the search for the intact hymen, you see]

All female [and occasionally male] characters who get in the way of the ‘true’ romance must be killed off. [the mother, the ex-whore. the evil uncle and so on]

Oriental women are all manipulative and promiscuous.

An ugly character can never hope to be with a good-looking one. Uglies to uglies and beauties to beauties is the law.

Retarded children are a burden and must always die tragically [but very conveniently] for the couple at the end of the novel.
Such a death is considered a ‘blessing’, for a retarded child could never live happily or give happiness to others.

Swooning dramatically is never optional.

Nor is being fat.

‘He’ must carry her up a grand flight of stairs at least once per novel

Sex before marriage is unthinkable.

Children after marriage is unavoidable.

Blemishes do not exist.

No one ever goes to the loo.

I’ve been reading this shite since I was 13. No fucking wonder I can’t find Mr. Right.


10 thoughts on “Happy Endings Guaranteed – Formula for a Romance Novel

  1. How come I haven’t read any of these victorian romances you’re always harping about? How am I even sure they exist? Am I to accept their existence solely by the alleged words on an alleged internet log written by an alleged friend of Leo’s?Leo’s my only connect to this bizarre series of events. You see I know Leo exists. I have broken bread with him even as millions of impoverished ones bit the dust while vultures scavenged on their frail and malnutritioned bodies.Leo the onus lies on you now. I don’t mean to pressurise you or anything but I presume you understand the mammoth responsibility you partake in this bizarre series of events.I can only pray for your own sake that any of this does not turn out to be false.Farewell, unfortunate one. Leo, that is. As for you, Scritch (note that I have not used your real name here), the slate is clean. You shall beget what Leo sires.

  2. I’ll bring some Barbara Cartland’s back when I come down for xmas. You shall enjoy them, I’m sure [not]They are an acquired taste, really.Secondly I have no idea what your rambling on about in paragraph 2, 3,4, and 5.

  3. er, nikhil, dude, the friend may be alleged, but the internet log and the words on it aren’t. you can see them with your own two eyes. also, there aren’t any vultures any more. that’s why all the bavs are rotting in the sun.

  4. I shall not explain myself out of principle. But I shall explain my principle because it’s my principle to explain my principle which is to never have to explain any principal aspects of my personality other than my principle.

  5. Egghead is a rambler. Forget him. I think it wise if you just read the first and last line of his comment and just thank him sweetly. Trust me, this is the wisest thing to do. Oh joy, you are coming for xmas. Oh woe, Xmas is coming.. another year, another tree, another sad love song..

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