Literary Love

Happy Valentine’s Day my lovely blog readers. Unless you hate Valentine’s day, in which case Happy Consumer Driven Useless Holiday.

Whatever your views on Valentine’s Day, I think there is one problem that all readers can relate to…. falling in love with a fictional character.

Don’t worry, we’ve all been there. For me, my first literary crush was Aragorn in the Lord of the Rings by Tolkien. Especially in the Lord of the Rings book, when everyone still knew him as Strider. Tall, dark, handsome and a total badass; what’s not to love? He made my little twelve year old heart go pitter-patter. Who needed Nick Carter from the Backstreet Boys when I had the brooding, sword-wielding Aragorn to set a completely unobtainable standard? Let’s just say Viggo Mortensen didn’t quench that fire, either.

Since Aragorn, there have been many other literary loves. Eric Northman from the Southern Vampire Mysteries by Charlaine Harris (True Blood), Carlos Manoso  aka Ranger from the Stephanie Plum Series by Janet Evanovich. Uh, Mr Darcy anyone? In all honesty, I fall a little in love with every character I read. Even the bad ones. Even Christian-Freakin’-Grey.

One of the most beautiful things about reading fiction, or reading anything really, is that the mind takes individual letters printed on a page, and transforms it into something entirely of the reader’s own making. With a few subtle suggestions, the reader fabricates a living, breathing (sort-of) person from the clues. And every time, we imbue the person with a few traits that we find attractive, construe the writer’s words in a way that appeals to us.

I’ve always striven to make my male characters appealing, not just to my female readers, but to all my readers. Sometimes, I grow wayyy too attached to my characters (I’m looking at you Cable Oliver), to even give them a happily ever after. Unless that happily ever after is with me. That’s not weird, right? Right? Hang on, there’s some guys at my door wearing white coats. I better see what they want.

Until I get back, remember guys; Roses may be Red, and Violet’s may be blue, but a good book is cheaper, than a dinner for two.

M x