Thursday, October 11, 2007

Who's That on the Cover of My Book?

A funny thing happens when you tell someone you've written a romance novel. (Well, any number of funny things can happen, but we're only talking about one right now.)

Scenario 1: Tell it to a Woman
Me: I just turned in my newest novel, His Secret Past.
Woman: Really, what's it about?
Conversation ensues.

Scenario 2: Tell it to a Man
Me: I just turned in my newest novel, His Secret Past.
Man: Am I on the cover?

Before you ask, no, I don't hang out with men who should logically be expecting to grace the cover of a romance. They're nice enough looking, but I think if you can model for a living, you probably do model for a living. (Full disclosure: I write technical documentation for a living. You do the math.)

That's beside the point anyway. If they want to be cover models, by all means, they should go for it. The thing I think is funny is it's always the men who make this joke. Never the women. Not once.

I, of course, have many theories about this. Some are not very kind. I won't list them here since I have absolutely no reason to think any of them are true. Even though we all know some of them have got to be at least sorta right.

Now that you know about this phenomenon, try this fun mental exercise. Next time you're talking to the men in your life, cousins, co-workers, mail carriers, whoever, know that each and every one of them is fully capable of imagining himself starring on a romance novel cover. Hee. Every. One. I swear.

To help with the visual, here's Wanted Man and Sexiest Man Alive by my good friend, Diana:


Begin at the Beginning: A Haiku

Introductions. Eek.
First lines. Opening scenes. Boo.
At least this is quick.

(Yeah. I thought the blog needed an introductory post and then it seemed so fraught that I chickened out.)

Ellen Hartman, romance novelist. Pleased to meet you.