Good lovers lie. Or so said a pre-Valentine’s Day New York Times post on the subject. The well-written article goes into great depth when it comes to passion-prodded lying—to your significant other, your children, and your friends. “If you want to have love in your life, you’d better be prepared to tell some lies and to believe some lies.”
This past weekend, my daughter put that concept to the test. Her new beau, while a delightful young man, didn’t seem terribly dialed in to the nuances of the special date. When she mentioned having purchased him a gift, his response was, “Oh. I made a dinner reservation. I didn’t know we were doing gifts.”
He’s young. He’ll learn. (Though perhaps not on her dime.)
Reservations were made, but to keep the evening from downward spiral trajectory, I suggested she be prepared with two gifts—the sporty, but hardly Rolex, watch she purchased, and a more casual box of chocolates. If his gift wasn’t worth a Facebook post—i.e., an I ♥ NY coffee mug—she should smile and hand over the candy. No need to take him to task and letting the lesson be hers: meaningful gifts are free will inspired. I went on to hint she should look at the bright side: take solace in the fact that he didn’t decide movie tickets to the Fifty Shades debut would be a point-scoring gift.
This latest Valentine’s Day snafu, plus a few of my own, made me think about lying in the name of love when it comes to books. It’s a natural segue, as romance writing is what I do with most of my non-mom time. In real life instances, like my daughter’s date, these sorts of lies must be carefully weighed and measured. Real life consequences, not to mention Facebook relationship statuses, rely on it. If you read the NYT article, you’ll see that a valid argument is made for lying to spare the feelings of our loved ones. Romance novels, on the other hand, bring a far more brutal reality to the mix—without lies there’d be no books.
Imagination is all about fabrication, and what is fabrication? Well, I believe it’s a synonym for lying. Storybook lies, in fact, make romance thrive. The hero lies to save his love interest from certain doom. In turn, the heroine lies to keep the peace and to stay the course. But never fear, it’s all for naught, as certainly every lie will lead her back to her one true love. The villain plays a part too, lying to inflict pain and suffering, a move that will surely result in his or her undoing, making the circle of lies complete. Love lies, on this stage, make the romance market go round.
Aside from a little mother-daughter advice and everyday writing, I prefer to leave the psychological ebb and flow of love lies to the New York Times and the experts. But I think I speak for many romance authors in recognizing that untruths are paramount to a good love story.
