‘m not going to say I don’t write to market. I mean, I do, to some extent. I’m writing historicals set in Great Britain among the upper-class for a reason. Personally, I think that lower-class romances could be seriously fun, especially criminal-class. (If I ever write an alpha-male, he’s going to be some kind of an Upright Man–a mob boss or something.) But I’m well aware that most books focus on the ton, and so that’s what I want to deliver.

But the discussion about what the market requires–wealth, titles–on my previous post got me to thinking about what really does appeal to the masses.

My WIP has a theme. It is, to put it ungrammatically: Live Deep. I think the message is fundamentally incompatible with the rich-as-Croesus Duke. I think that we yearn–I admit that I yearn–for wealth, social status, and continuity all for the same reason. It’s about security, and about settling down. There’s something about settling down to squalor that just doesn’t sit right with romance. You just don’t do it. You don’t end your book with the heroine saying, “Gosh, I’m not sure how we’ll squeak out our mortgage payments, and I don’t think we can fund our retirement by the time we hit seventy-five, let alone sixty, but I love you and I’m gonna go for it, and somehow, we’re going to squeeze kids in here, too.” Even though that’s what the majority of us do. And so the wealthy, titled gentleman glorifies certainty and security. It’s not an accident that this has been the dominant strain: marriage,in general, is about securing future.
Let’s face it: Some themes just wouldn’t fly in today’s romance novel market. For instance, I don’t think I could write a marketable polyamorous novel. No way. Maybe someday, but the theme “you can love more than one person” just won’t fly in today’s mainstream romance market. Likewise, the theme “you can’t get anyone better, so you might as well suck it up” is probably not a huge seller. And some themes which sell in other genres won’t work in romance–things like “life sucks and then you die” and “power corrupts” may be compelling, but let’s face it. We are not Van Gogh and Mahler. We write happy novels.
My theme does not predominate on the market. But I’m not convinced it’s unmarketable. It is, fundamentally, a happy ending. And I do have proof that it can market: Titanic, the movie. The hero is a happy-go-lucky artist. He has no money, and no family to fall back on. She’s engaged to a wealthy man who will provide all the security there can be. But it’s soulless; the wealth of her life is seen at the end of the movie, when you realize that (a) the security the original fiance provided was spurious and (b) that she’s had the opportunity to do everything, and to be someone, that she’d never otherwise have been.
I’d prefer that my hero not die in the end, of course, and since they aren’t likely to be put in life-threatening situations, I think the odds are low. But that’s what I want for my two: I want them to make a partnership, and I want them to say at the ends of their life, “My life would never have been this rich without the other.” It’s not just about sacrifice or giving things up or not giving things up for each other. It’s about finding who you are, and pushing yourself past your limits, because the other person leads you there. In short, it’s about partnership, not marriage.
So I’m writing away from security, rather than towards it. I’m curious how this will turn out.