I stayed up last night until 11pm. This is late for me, usually I'm crashed out by 9pm (oh the joy of children). But what kept me up? Pride and Prejudice. Yes, the 2005 version with Keira Knightly. It was fabulous, I loved it. Pure and un-adulterated romance, that swept me away.
After being firmly in the dumps for the last week, it blew away the fug and reminded me what romance really is. Showed me what I should be aiming for in my books. I'd forgotten, I think. Especially with Drive Me To Distraction (formerly High Speed, yes, finally decided on the new name). I'd been so busy focussing on the sexist attitudes in the car racing industry that I'd forgotten all about the love story part. This is now fixed as well. I finished the re-write earlier today and have sent it off to my agenty-type person to see what she thinks.
Hubby and I were discussing romance at home as well. I was rather stunned when he apologised for not getting me flowers for Valentine's Day or our anniversary of meeting (15 Feb). But I don't think flowers on Valentine's Day is romantic. Sure, you can show them off to everyone at home or in the office, but it seems so contrived. What is romantic to me is when he gives me time to write, when I can hear the kids howling at the other end of the house and he's clearly having a hard time of it, but instead of complaining he just brings me a cup of tea. This, to me, is romance.