Page 34 of How to Write a Rom-Com

I don’t remember the last time I danced. Maybe sometime last summer when Elle dragged me to a club? It wasn’t as fun as this. I remember wanting to leave and get as far away from the crowd of people as possible. But here, this moment, with these people…

I never want it to end.

When my head hits the pillow that night, I start to fall asleep but my eyes quickly fly back open. I’m in too deep. The shallow feeling in my stomach tells me that. Because if I was impartial, if I was just in this for a job, I wouldn’t feel a smile spreading across my face when I think about the moment Liam reached for my hand as we danced.

Chapter Eleven

Fish out of water.

It’s one of my favorite elements of romance. It’s not often in other genres that you see a main character so completely out of his/her element. In romance, it just adds to the tension sometimes. Or the trope.

I’ve never felt so much like a fish out of water as I do on this trip. Like in these books, I am completely out of my comfort zone… and it’s changing me. The heroines in these books from @HeartwarmingRomance leave their hometown or city lives to renovate an inn or care for a relative… and they end up finding themselves—and love—in a new environment.

What’s your favorite fish-out-of-water romance? Let me know in the comments.

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Operation Small Town, Day 19

“So, you admit that you’re liking it there, then?” Josie says, her voice crackling from the other end of the phone. She wouldn’t FaceTime with me today, probably because she’s working on the other end of the phone and doesn’t want me to see how distracted she is. I roll my eyes at her question.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to get me to admit,” I reply, a bit defensive. “It’s a beautiful place, great for a vacation.” My mind flashes back to telling Liam that I was in Hudson Hollow for vacation, a lie which he still believes. “I’m not as anti-small town as everyone—well, mainly you—makes me out to be.”

“I don’t believe you are. But your mother is, and I know how persuasive she can be,” I can sense the judgment in Josie’s tone.

“You’re not that far off, you know,” I reply.

It’s been a few days since the picnic, and in that time, I’ve been doing a lot of solo scouting. Yesterday I made it my business to go into every establishment on Main Street, from the gas station to the post office. It didn’t take me long. While Hudson Hollow is a quaint town, it doesn’t have an idyllic used bookstore with a grumpy owner looking for an out-of-towner to revive her small business. There’s no small coffee shop with a pun for a name or a historic site that could inspire a novel. There’s Liz’s, Lucia’s, the library, the post office, and Stewart’s/the gas station.

I also spoke with Anne yesterday, who was ecstatic about my notes from the picnic.

“You actually line-danced with these people?I would have paid to see a video of that!”

“Well, that sounds like workplace harassment,” I deadpanned.

“Was there a campfire?Did they sing?”

“You don’t have to talk about them like they’re an exhibit, Anne. But no, thank goodness, there was no actual sitting by the fire and singing folk songs. I think I would have lost it.”

“Are you getting soft on small-town life, city girl?”Anne said, and I could feel the condescension in her voice.

“And prove you right? Never.”

I could tell from Anne’s voice when she asked about the “hero character” that she wanted to know more about Liam, whom she must have heard about from Elle. So far, most of my notes she’s seen have been about the town, and the heroine. After the picnic, I started to list out some side characters that could round out the town’s ensemble. Of course, I had to add a bubbly, intriguing library assistant who loves to share stories about the town’s rich history, just to stick it to Beth. But I haven’t been able to paint a clear picture of who the hero will be. I knew going in that Anne basically expected me to infiltrate Hudson Hollow, but I didn’t realize just howpersonalof a job it would be. The way Jill talked about her brother’s happiness, andmesomehow playing a part in that, has made my outlook on this project completely different.

“Can’t you see the benefits of being in a place like that?” Aunt Josie says. “The slow pace, the nature. I would love it.”

“You’re the one who jumps from big city to big city,” I remind her.

“Hindsight is twenty-twenty, my love,” she says, sighing. “There’s a bit too much hustle and bustle in this life for me these days. A lake house and a quiet life sounds magical.”

“Then why don’t you come home?” I ask, my chest aching, yearning for one of her tight hugs. “We can quit our jobs and move to the sticks. We’ll start a sewing circle and have a garden and do outdoorsy shit.”

“Doesn’t sound so bad, does it?” she muses.

As reluctant as I am to prove Anne and Josie right, maybe I am getting a little soft on this small-town life. “I mean, things are slow here. Like, in no rush to get anywhere-level of slow. And people actually use the crosswalks and wait for the light to turn before crossing the street.” Josie cackles. “But I guess there are perks to not having to fight elbow-to-elbow with people to get off the subway car first, or dodging oblivious people wearing air pods in the grocery store, I’m not spending my lunch hour rushing down the block to pay $15 for a soggy salad…” My voice trails off.I’m not sitting behind a desk all day, watching the rat race on the street below me.

“Mhmm,” Josie hums. I don’t have to be able to see her to know the look on her face right now. It says “I told you so” in about seven different languages. “Refreshing, isn’t it?”

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