by Heather Rosman
Allowing myself to entertain the fantasy of becoming a published author was a huge decision for me. I’d been in denial for years, working in academe, secretly reading mass market fiction behind closed doors. At the time I was in graduate school, working toward my PhD in Psychology. I thought the course of my life was determined. I’d do research and teach; a respectable career. It took my father becoming deathly ill for me to realize life was too short to give up on my dreams. In the middle of my misery I turned to my first passion for comfort and rediscovered myself.
So I was going to do it. I was going to tell the stories that had been boiling deep inside my creative gut. The excitement was there. The drive was there. I sat down in front of my computer to a blank page and thought, ‘now what?’ I knew then I needed to know how others had done this so successfully. I knew I couldn’t do it alone. Oh, I could probably do something alone—it just wouldn’t be any shade of good.
I’d known Romance Writers of America existed since the age of 13 when my passion for reading romance was born with Julie Garwood’s The Prize. Finding me sprawled indelicately on the couch for six hours at a time, devouring a paperback, my parents would just roll their eyes. In the end I think they were just happy I was reading something. Of course, they didn’t realize I was staying up all night, skipping school to stay home and read. Shh…don’t tell!
Finding out about CRRWA wasn’t hard, showing up for a meeting was. I thought it would be like an AA meeting, everyone standing up, ‘my name is Heather and I’m hopelessly addicted to romance novels.’ If my LGBT friends will forgive me, it felt like I was coming out of the closet. As if I were exposing my deepest darkest secret to the world. I expected fingers pointed at me and snide remarks, ‘you want to be a what?’
These fears were based on two incorrect cognitions. One, I wasn’t going to be good enough. All romance writers have this feeling. In fact, it’s almost a prerequisite to actually becoming an author. Two, I still held the belief that the romance genre wasn’t one that held respect in the literary world and because this was the genre I wanted to write, I would never be respected. Which I know now is complete bull-honkey. Did you know that 30% of all books sold are romance novels? That 25% of all romance readers are men? That the majority of romance readers are married and hold college degrees? Romance fans aren’t sex-starved spinsters and romance writers are hardly oversexed divas i.e. Meryl Streep in Shedevil. The romance genre has a lot to be proud of—we are the biggest foothold in the market!
So I finally got myself to a meeting, excited and nervous about who I was going to meet. I think I had a secret fantasy that Julie Garwood was a member of my local RWA. Never mind she lives in Kansas—it could happen, right? I arrived at the East Greenbush Public Library, stood in a corner, and hoped I’d be able to sneak quietly into the meeting. But Thomasine, the group’s librarian, walked up to me very friendly and asked ‘you’re here for the romance writers’ group?’ I just swallowed hard and nodded. Mind you, Thomasine is very tall and beautiful. Oh boy, I thought, all romance writers were gorgeous. I should run away now and not embarrass myself. Frumpy old Heather would never look like a romance writer *gasp*. My mind shot back to memories of Meryl Streep, wrapped in gossamer gowns with her mansion by the sea.
But oddly, Thomasine treated me like I belonged there. Like of course, I’m a writer. I sat down and the next I knew Roberta DeCaprio pulled herself right next to me, talked to me and got to know me. She took the time to welcome me, answer my questions—and boy, did I have a ton of them.
Within the first twenty minutes of the meeting, I realized writing romance wasn’t about looks or lifestyle or even gender. It was about love of the genre, the battle between good and evil and the happily ever after (HEA) ending. The need to drag our characters through all sorts of muck, knowing they’ll come out with a smile on their face. That is what unites all romance readers and writers. That is what brings us to the East Greenbush Library once a month.
It’s a scary proposition, changing one’s life. Romance has a way of doing that for us. Though they won’t write your book for you, the CRRWA has been my foothold on the business. I’ve finally found a home where I could be the person I’ve always been, the writer who hid inside the shell of another personality. You do know that all writers have a little crazy, right?
As of now, I’ve left graduate school to fulfill my dreams. I have no regrets. I’m not free of the manacles of life, mind you. Like most others of the group, I have a day job which allows me to write when I can. Very few writers are able to leave their jobs to write full time—we wish! Quitting the day job to write full time is a dream many of us have, but not many can fulfill. Don’t let that stop you from living your dreams in the stolen moments between family, jobs and other responsibilities. When I come home at night I’m no longer up to my ears in dreaded academe, I’m reading romance novels as ‘research’ or writing blogs for my good friends at CRRWA. That is my dream. I’m living it and loving it!