Page 42 of Guys Can't Write Romance
“Nothing. But he needs to have some flaws.”
“Why are you and Chloe so big on him having flaws?”
“Because everyone has flaws. I might even have a couple.”
“Or a lot.”
He grinned. “They make your character relatable, so we root for them. What if instead of having him already on the team, he’s trying out for the team? Maybe his dad’s a retired major-league hall-of-famer, who never thought Rick would amount to anything. So, Rick wants to prove his dad wrong.”
As she listened to this, the wheels in her mind began to spin. And not with thoughts of killing Chad for a change. The idea had merit: a built-in conflict, emotional stakes, a reason for the reader to root for the character beyond just ‘he’s nice.’ It was surprisingly insightful coming from someone who thought bikini-clad ghosts were the height of romantic fiction.
“And maybe when Rick makes the team, his dad gives him his Super Bowl ring to show Rick how proud he is of him.”
Chad nodded. “Wrong sport, but you get the idea.”
A flush crept up Daisy’s neck, partly from embarrassment and partly from the beer. “Right. World Series ring.”
“Or just his own rookie baseball card. Something meaningful that shows forgiveness and acceptance without being too on-the-nose.”
Daisy leaned back and thought about this for a moment. “You know, that doesn’t totally suck.”
“You’re welcome.”
For the first time in history, she gave him a warm smile. “Thanks, Chad. But I’m gonna hate you again tomorrow when the hangover kicks in.” She took another gulp of beer, then leaned back over her papers and jotted down these new ideas before she forgot them.
A cool breeze drifted in from the ocean as the sun began its descent, bringing with it the scent of salt and sunscreen. Someone at a nearby table ordered a round of tequila shots, resulting in a rowdy toast that made Daisy jump. But rather than finding it annoying as she would have just hours ago, she found herself observing the group with writerly interest. There was a story there, in their friendship, their laughter, the inside jokes that had clearly developed over years.
“What about you?” Chad asked, interrupting her people-watching. “What would you suggest for my ghost romance disaster?”
“No more slime monster?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I’m thinking now about having a female ghost become the muse for a horror writer who’s trying to write a romance novel.”
Daisy sat back and thought about it. “That’s actually pretty good. And she’s clothed?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
Daisy rolled her eyes. “Well, for starters, give your ghost a personality beyond ‘hot dead girl.’ What was she like when she was alive? What regrets does she have? Why is she helping this guy?”
“I was thinking maybe she drowned in a surfing accident.”
“That’s her backstory, not her personality,” Daisy explained. “Think about it — if you died tomorrow, would you want people to remember you only as ‘that guy who got killed’ or as Chad McKenzie, with all your quirks and dreams and terrible jokes?”
Chad nodded slowly, scribbling notes. “So I need to flesh her out, and not just have her be some plot device.”
“Exactly. And then figure out why she’s helping this specific guy. Is there a connection beyond ‘he’s hot’? Maybe she has something to teach him beyond just being his muse.”
Chad tapped his pen on the table for a moment as he thought about this. “What if… maybe she has a sister she wants this guy to meet?”
“I like that,” Daisy said, her eyes brightening at the idea. “And that lets you give the story a happily ever after ending. Because, let’s face it, it’s hard to have a happy ending when she’s a ghost.”
Chad sat back. “I’m liking this idea.”
Daisy nodded. “Me too. And you do this right, you’ll have your readers crying at the end when the ghost has to leave.”
Chad gave her an appreciative nod. “I’m going with this. Thanks, Daisy.” He turned back to his notepad and began scribbling down these new ideas.
It didn’t escape her that he called her by her first name for the first time in history. “Anytime.”
