Select Page

I went to the movies tonight. From the title you might be able to guess what I saw. Yes, it was a beautifully shot movie. Yes, it was quite fascinating structurally but dear God there’s a reason why I write genre fiction.

I don’t want stories full of ruined lives and pointlessness and futility. There’s enough of that in real life without it creeping into my escapism.

Please sir, can I buy some hope? I don’t need things to be all sweetness and fun. I can take pain and darkness. If you pay attention to my reading list you’d know that I, in fact, quite like darkness. But it has to have a point. And it has to be darkness that’s conquered or survived triumphantly- darkness that’s balanced by or results in light. Something that’s positive. Something that believes in life and love. Stories where people can reach their goals and make a difference. Stories that make the world seem better even if there’s not a perfect happy ending. That’s my kind of story. It’s not everyone’s. And that’s okay. I just sometimes wish that the world would see that both kinds are important and, that, in my opinion, the hopeful stuff is even more important.

You hear people say that a common reaction to death is the urge to have sex. To claim something life-affirming. And yes, this is a sweeping generalisation, and yes, I’m sure there are happy literary books too, but sometimes I think that the ancestors of the genre writers were the ones sneaking off into the fields and saying “take that, world, we’ll survive and thrive” while the literary writers drowned their sorrows and cried by the fire : )

And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be taking my half-full glass and watching a Richard Curtis movie.

PS Keira’s green dress was just beautiful. Seriously I covet it like I covet Nicole’s red gown from Moulin Rouge. Pity I’m built like neither of them….

Pin It on Pinterest

Share This