Admitting defeat isn’t always a bad thing

When I started writing, I swore up and down I’d never be a romance writer.  As an outdoors chick working in a primarily male dominated field, I avoided anything romance related in my life.  No chick flicks.  No Harlequin paperbacks.  No sappy candlelit dinners with my hubby.   So, I started up on a critiquing site and posted my first novel, The Glass Man – a hard-core adventure fantasy – or so I thought.  The readers immediately talked about the romantic tension in the book, and I cringed.  What?  I didn’t write no stinking romance.  Did I?

After finishing the Glass Man, I did some soul-searching.  What floated my boat as far as literary works went?  Vampires – definitely.  Anything supernatural really, but why?  What was it about them that captured my interest and held it from page one until the end?  It hit me like a hammer to the forehead.  The romance of it all, being swept up in the captivating eyes of a supernatural creature.  Damn.  That got me to thinking – could I write a compelling romance novel outside the fantasy genre? 

I like a challenge and so my twisted imagination went to work.  In a quiet corner of my living room where nobody could see, I started work on a new novel, Crossing Hathaway, about an outspoken computer technician who goes toe-to-toe with her eccentric boss.  After a few chapters went through the my writing group, I had my answer.  Apparently I can write romance.   Huh?  Never would have guessed.  I have since admitted defeat and have almost completed the book in hopes of attracting an agent with it.  I won’t be giving up my love of fantasy, but I’ll combine what I write well with my love of supes and will hopefully come out with some great combined works in the future.

Just do me a favor and don’t tell my hubby I want to grow up to be a romance novelist.

Joce Adams

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