Friday, 7 December 2012

Why do I write romance?

I wrote this rant as a performance piece, so it's not really supposed to be read, but I think that not so many of you will get to see me perform it, compared to the number of you who can read it, so I thought, what the hell, you'll have to imagine me. It's quite easy really. You raise your volume and lock eyes with your pretend audience. 

I've only ever performed this once, at the Guild Hall earlier this year. It was in its raw state of the elusive first draft, that even Stephen King says that we share with no-one. However, I only had two first drafts with me, so having no choice, I went ahead and it went down so well that I decided that this first draft actually was my final edit. So here it is, not tweaked, nor revised, and please bear in mind that my leading men are my imaginary characters. 

Hope you enjoy it.

Why do I write romance - A rant.


There is no romance in my life.

I’ve been saying it out loud for years, but he can’t seem to hear me, so I thought 
maybe I’m not speaking loud enough, 
maybe I’m not making myself clear, 
maybe I’m only dreaming I’m saying it, 
I thought the best thing to do was to bring it here and say it out  loud to see if you can hear me.



Can you hear me?

There are no flowers, no hearts, no chocolates, no gifts.

Actually, that’s a lie, there was a memorable gift for my last birthday – a fly-swatter. Yes, you hear me correctly, a fly-swatter. Not an all-singing all-dancing electronic thingy – not a real instrument of torture and death – just a flexible tennis racket style one that works perfectly well, entertaining me – my sitting room is like a graveyard in the summer mornings – but, 
the point is, 
it’s not very romantic, is it?

So as I say,



Did you hear me?


Good, then I shall continue dreaming, writing romance and having affairs left, right and centre with my leading men.


  1. What? No romance? None at all? Not even a smidgen? With a surname like Loveday this is not acceptable! I haven't read 50 Shades of Wey-Hey but from what I've heard a fly swatter is apt - swatting botties and wotty-notty. So what are you waiting for. Whack that fly swatter around the other half's moosh, rant for red roses, demand a delightful dinner, and pin him down for the perfume. If you don't ask you don't get. And sometimes you have to make a fuss! Love Debbie xx PS Excellent rant by the way!

    1. Aha, now that is what I call excellent feedback and startlingly good advice...however, too late went the cry, but it's cool. I'm fine (and I swear there is no 'boohoo' hiding in there).

  2. Way to go Wendy: that Rocks and I definately remember its first outing.

    Sorry it says Anonymous but I'm not one of any of those other options I'm offered. Alan

    1. Thanks Alan. Hoping to take it to Speakers' Corner next Wednesday. Hope you'll be around.

  3. Ah I remember this poem. Full of fun and laughter it went down really well. Looks good on paper too chick!

    One of those poems that has a distinctive (your) voice.

    1. Ha ha. I'm so glad you thought it was funny. I remember the silence accompanying the shocked faces as I began, followed by the rumble of laughter at the end. Very satisfying for me. See you Wednesday.

  4. This is great Wendy. I think you speak the thoughts of many a woman!
    Will keep an eye/ear out for your next live performance

    PS - Not anonymous - Gill from the past

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