I love spring. Everything is bright and shiny and new. It’s less gray, even on rainy days. And – okay – my birthday falls in April, so I am a bit prejudice. To me the season is all about hope.
Hope. Goodness knows we could all use a little of that.
Hope is the reason I write romance. I’ve said this often, but in my darkest times…when I was bullied in school, when my father died, when I was fighting off my own inner demons…romances kept me company. They showed me light and love, and made everything more bearable. They gave me hope, even when it was in short supply.
That’s why the latest round of romance bashing, innocuous as it may be, really bugs me. Romances, like spring, promise new beginnings, when life is at it’s most hopeful.
Sure the numbers bear out why no one should trash talk romance, but how about sticking to the most simple reason of all: romances make people happy. They give people hope.
That’s why this matters. Don’t turn your nose up at what gives someone hope.
In the words of the immortal Susan Elizabeth Phillips, “Life’s too short to read depressing books.” Ain’t that the truth.
Tell me why you read romance. I’d love to know.
