Using personal stories in writing a romance: do or don’t?
I use personal situations, feelings, things I’ve noticed or talked about. Anything that’s actually me? No. Not ever.
For instance, I was shopping once with my husband and he nudged me. I looked at where he nodded, and there was this young guy, maybe 20 or so, looking at a girl in a prom-type dress. I swear I saw his Adam’s apple bob. He had this look about him that was both hilarious and endearing. I’ve used that particular look many times in my books. It truly said it all – how much he liked her, and how much he wanted her. She did look fantastic, I have to say. But not that much more so than many other 20-something year old girls. LOL. He was fully infatuated, and it was fun to see.
My kids (3 grown sons) have cracked jokes that I’ve used in books. They’ve made male-inspired comments about things that epitomize the masculine mindset. They often give me a good starting point for male POV scenes.
Almost anyone who has read me knows I don’t like alcohol, and I do like coffee. J Those personal things show up often in my books. Anti-alcohol because we had many alcoholics in our family. Back 30+ years ago when hubby and I married, we made a very conscious decision to have all the family parties at our house, and to make them all alcohol-free. I didn’t want to raise my kids with the same problems I had. It’s worked great for us.
Just the other day, my sister sent me a text saying, “Nothing tastes better than that first drink of coffee.” I wrote her back and said, “I’ve used that exact line in a book many times.” She replied, “If I wrote books, I’d use it too.” J
So yes, insignificant things from my life pop up in the books. Things I know, feelings I’ve experienced, scenes I’ve witnessed... they’re there, but with a fictional slant to them.
As a 53 year old, long-married mom of 3, trust me, no one wants to read anything that’s actually about *me.* It’d bore readers to tears. LOL.
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Excerpt:
His wife had bought the novelty items years ago.
While blowing on the hot coffee, Spencer ruthlessly quashed bad memories. Arizona loaded her coffee with two heaping spoonfuls of sugar and a liberal splash of the cream.
He watched her lush mouth as she sipped, sipped again.
Shaking himself, he took a drink, and nearly choked. Strong enough to peel the lining from his throat, it was the worst coffee he’d ever tasted. Arizona didn’t seem to notice, though, so he manned up and drank without complaint.
The overdose of caffeine would do him good.
Silence dragged out while they each gave attention to their coffee. He wouldn’t be the first to break.
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