fandomhigh | Writing the Great American (Romance) Novel, Thursday, Per 2

Darkness help any new student meeting Karla for the first time in this class. The picture she presented to the incoming students was hardly professional; she was in loose, comfortable clothing that had clearly seen better days rather than her usual attire of severely-tailored suits, her hair was pulled back in a messy bun, with tendrils that she kept absently blowing away from her face, and her feet were firmly planted on her desk, her chair leaning back at an angle that looked fairly dangerous. Floating by her side was a platter of chocolate-covered fruit slices that oozed out honey. Her nose was firmly stuck in a book, the cover of which left very little to the imagination. And she didn't look up until the bell rang, setting the book aside with a fond sigh.

"So, romance novels," she said, kicking her feet off the desk and sitting upright to look at her assembled classroom. "Often panned and widely disparaged by critics, they're seen as light reading, fluffy, and often times things to be ashamed of." She might have glanced at Lucille ~~if she was there~~ and offered her a small smile as she said it. "That's utter bullshit, by the way. Yes, romance novels are complete wish-fulfillment and yes, some of them, written in earlier times, may have themes and situations that many people today find unhealthy or unpleasant, but romance novels are hardly the first or only genre that can be said about. They are, however, pure indulgence, which is something that ought to be celebrated, not condemned."

Karla had an entire rant saved up about how it was no surprise that it was a genre so heavily read and marketed to women that received such heavy criticism, but it was the first day of class and she figured she'd save that for another week.

"I'm not going to pretend that writing is easy--it's not. At least, not if you're doing it right. But that doesn't mean that it cannot be enjoyable as well, especially when writing on topics like love and romance. This class is going to mingle both the hard work of writing and the indulgence of reading into what hopefully is a harmonious whole. So, rule number one in class: be comfortable. Wear comfortable clothes, the kind of thing you'd lounge around in after a hard day. Of course, comfortable means something that you're comfortable wearing in front of others, so don't force yourself to wear something that will make you self-conscious around your peers just because it's comfy in your dorms. Rule two of this class: no apologizing for the things you like or dislike to read and write about and no guilt for them either. You're young, many of you are just discovering what it is that you like. This is an open space to explore that. However, the corollary to that is that not everyone is going to like what you like. Some people may be offended by it, which is their problem. Some people might be genuinely distressed by it, however, and that needs to be treated respectfully. We'll talk more about what that means later, but for now, just be as respectful and understanding as you would wish were the situations reversed. And the final rule of the class is: indulge without guilt. Enjoy things. Let yourself relax, eat the snacks I've provided without worrying about the calories, let go of the ideas that you can't enjoy yourself while you learn and work. You follow those rules and we'll all get along just fine."

Standing up, she crossed around to the front of her desk and perched on the edge. "So, it's introduction week and Darkness knows we can't forgo that. So! Name, class, why you signed up for this--if you did--and the plot of your favorite romance novel. If you don't have one of those, the plot of your favorite book. Or the book you read most recently. If none of those work for you, make something up. Once we're done with that, help yourself to the ~~moddable~~ treats I got from JGOB and some of the delicious tea I brought--today, your choices are chocolate orange and a lovely lavender hibiscus--and then pair up for the activity."

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"It is apparently meant for pairs." So yes.

Also, excuse you. His writing was positively poetic in Khuzdul.

Poetic for a Dwarf? Lucille smiled, not entirely sincerely. "Then we should work together. Do you have a preference for a title?"

Well, the language wasn't exactly fancy like Quenya, but it had its charm.

"I would prefer to complete the story before assigning it a title," Thorin replied, taking a seat across from her with only a little frowning about it being made for Menfolk.

"The assignment says we are to choose a title first," Lucille pointed out.

Here we go.

It was their charm!

"How would we know the title when the story has yet to be completed?" Thorin asked. Stubbornly. But that usually went without saying.

"The title would inspire us to the story," Lucille said, almost rolling her eyes. "It would be like the first sentence of the first chapter."

Stubborn Dwarf!

"The story should inspire the title," Thorin insisted. "A title matters less than the content."

That was almost deep!

"Which is why the title should come first," Lucille retorted. "That will give us a subject to hold on to so that we don't get distracted when writing it."

"Or it would constrain the story," he shot back.

"Why would it? And what story do we have?" Lucille just looked at him. "Besides, the exercise starts with choosing a title."

"Then you may choose one, but I shall wait."

Because now he was digging his damn heels in.

Lucille considered this a partial victory and wasn't going to ask what he planned to wait for.

"The title 'A Love Poem' would be a good start, don't you think?" Of course he didn't think that.

"Now it's your turn. Who should it be dedicated to?"

Thorin sighed because oh god, he hated that title already. But mostly because she decided on it. And because stubborn.

"I would venture a loved one," he replied helpfully. "Perhaps a princess?"

"Not that I would love a princess, but I suppose that could work," Lucille said, as she didn't want to get stuck with this immediately.

But she wanted to be clear about her not loving princesses, in case he wouldn't understand such things. Who knew what Dwarves thought about matters like that.

It was complicated and thoroughly Tolkien.

"...do you know many princesses that this is a concern?"

"Of course not," Lucille snapped. "It was merely hypothetical. Now, next we need an adjective."

Lucille didn't know about the lack of Dwarf women.

They would undoubtedly revisit this at a later juncture.

"Comely?" That was romantic, right? Hella romantic.

That would have to do, she supposed, but Lucille sighed a little. "Next we need a room. The bathroom, I think."

That was romantic, wasn't it? Noisy rusty pipes, and water colored blood-red by clay. Or blood.

"That seems rather forward." Nudity happened there, Lucille. Nudity.

This was romance. The possibility of nudity must be allowed. "What would you suggest them?"

Not in his romance, thank you!

"Perhaps on the parapets of her castle?" That was a pretty majestic looking scene, right?

"That isn't a room," Lucille pointed out. "It is outdoors."

"It is a room in a broad sense." Seriously, Thorin. No.

"What, in the sense of the whole of creation?"

Lucille sighed.

Thorin sighed right on back at her. "A throne room then."

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