One of my most memorable childhood memories would be of my mother’s Harlequin Romance Novel Collections. She had hundreds of them. My dad even built her a wooden wall shelf right beside the staircase in our childhood home so she coud arrange them alphabetically. That is how I got hooked on reading romance novels.

Harlequin has got it right when it comes to romance – chivalrous men, sexy millionaire bosses and the ever elusive shieks. Romance that makes your knees shake and buckle dreaming of everlasting love. There is never a bad ending to a romance novel- the mousy secretary turns into a beautiful swan, the stalker gets caught by the hero, or an old love brought back. It makes me daydream all the time of all the possible scenarios where I could be the heroine, just turning around the corner destined to meet the love of her life. So overly dramatic, I know.

Why can’t love in the real world be as exciting? Maybe it’s the predictability aspect of the novels, knowing how it will end – the girl gets the guy, that makes it more appealing. If only we could wish a scripted page be played in real life so that we know where the next page leads. Instead of the unpredictability of human emotions – Does he love me? Is there someone else? Is it meant to be? Real life love makes you more crazy from all the unanswered questons. More times than it gives you that fuzzy warm feeling.

One of these days, I will venture to write my own romance novel about kissing a lot of frogs in order to find a prince.