Making my usual blog-rounds, I encountered a post that got me thinking about timing in romance. More specifically, the all-important timing of the consummation.

In her excellent piece, Heather Massey said that, regardless of the kind of romance she read:

The pattern I’ve noticed is this: the sexual consummation, if it happened onstage, occurred around page 200. Basically, the deed is accomplished somewhere in the range of pages 175-225, adjusting as needed given the total page count.

Of course, we all recognise this. A lot of romances built towards the consummation scene (via a few tension-ratcheting gropes and feverish almost-consummations) so that it occurred in the last third of story, and there was usually a palpable drop in momentum afterwards, as though there was nothing left for the reader to root for, barring the final declaration. This was probably a lot more common a few years ago; the rise in popularity of erotic romance has led to an increasing number of sex-at-first-encounter scenarios. Indeed, the last romance I read (Lydia Joyce’s Wicked Intentions) saw the heroine well and truly debouched within the first evening of the story.

Conversely, the reasons for the hero and heroine not to have sex have gotten more creative. This year, I’ve read two books in which one of the protagonists was incorporeal, thus posing a very tough barrier to consummation. (Dark Needs at Night’s Edge by Kresley Cole and The Treasure Keeper by Shana Abe.) Both, incidentally, fine examples of romance with very intense build-ups.

But I confess to having a soft spot for the early consummation. I don’t like the idea that a romantic relationship builds towards sex, as though this is the pinnacle, or the final barrier to the HEA. Instead, I prefer the messy route: the H&H striving for hard-fought emotional intimacy.

One romance that springs to mind as a perfect example is Jo Goodman’s Forever in my Heart, in which the hero and heroine are having sex on the first page as complete strangers (there is an explanation). Despite such an intimate beginning, Maggie and Connor have to work really hard to open themselves up to each other, to really trust one another. The novel is plotted against their emotional arc which is far more satisfying to me as a reader or romance.

It’s also more unpredictable. If there is such a thing as a rhythm, or a pattern, in romance novels, in which we come to expect sex, the declaration, and conflict at certain points in the story, then it’s challenging and interesting when these expectations are not met. As a reader, I sit up and take notice. Which is, come to think of it, the best timing of all.

This entry was posted by Meriam on Monday, April 6th, 2009 at 7:40 pm. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.