I am writing a rom-com.
That sounds very normal, doesn’t it? Many people write rom-coms. Badly, but they write them.
I am writing a mystery. That is even more common. Many people write mysteries, and some of them are really very good.
I am writing them in the same novel. This is where it gets weird. There are comedic mysteries such as written by Carl Hiassen. Zany, I think you’d call his mysteries (I haven’t read one in ages, though). Mashing all three together, though, I can’t think of anyone off-hand who has done that.
Here’s the thing about the way I write (and how I know if it’s a good idea). I start with an idea. In this case, queer romance. I was talking to a friend online as to how dhifferent queer romance is from straight romance. There seems to be more room for different ways of relating with each other for queers than for straights.
I will preface by saying that queer people have, in the past, certainly, if not now, had to be circumspect in finding each other. Also, there are simply much less of us than of straight people. If you take the 10% number as being roughly true–huh. Apparently, it’s 7.1%, but that is double what it used to be and it’s because of Gen Z. 21% of them identify as queer!
That brings joy to my heart–that the youngers are more open to diversity than my generation (the invisible Gen X). Straight dudes are hurt by patrairchy, too. Buying into the idea that there is only one way to do romance–monogamy and sex has to be accompanied by love. Straight women, too, I think, but not as much as straight men.
Here’s the thing. When you’re already on the fringes, it’s not a stretch to think that maybe there are even more things you can do. And with smaller communities, you may not necessarily be able to walk away from an ex as cleanly as in the straight world. Plus, if you like the person enough to be with them, maybe you can still be friends after? This doesn’t seem like it’s a completely out there idea.
In addition, there doesn’t have to be such a strict delineation between friend and partner. There’s a term in queer communities called queerplatonic. It’s a committed relationship with a friend that is similar to a romantic relationship without the romance. I feel like I have that with my two besties. I am as committed to them as I would be to a partner, and I know they feel similarly about me.
K and I have talked about romantic love versus platonic love, and she is adamant that she loves me and her husband the same amount, though obviously in a different way. And she’s sincere. I believe her as I would not believe many other people.
I realized at some point that I did not want a long-term monogamous romantic relationship for a variety of reasons. And that I am truly queer in my way of thinking. It’s been a long time since I’ve been in a relationship–over a decade. That relationship ended really badly. It scarred me in several ways. One, it made me realize that I was too eager to bond with anyone who would have me. I could get into why, but I have done that enough times in the past that I don’t want to get into it now.
At the beginning of 2020, I decided I wanted to start dating again. I wasn’t looking for a relationship, but just some fun (and to be honest, sex). We all know what happened in 2020. The pandemic. So, yeah, I was not going to date anyone any time soon. I supposed I could have limited it to online dating, but as the reason I wanted to date was to have in-life sex, online dating was not going to scratch that itch.
Then, vaccinations became available. I got mine in April of 2021. I cautiously started going out a few weeks after my second vax. And then I had my personal medical crisis and put dating on hold one more time. I could not think about dating/sexing, whe I was recovering from my medical crisis.
Now, it’s been two years. I am thinking about sex again. My brother jumped into dating with both feet and a full heart. He put in the work, and I marvel at how he kept his head up. He did not let the lack of answers get him down. He was not swayed by the broken relationships (at least not in the long run). No, he kept at it in part beacuse he gained confidence from traveling on his own.
He had been married for nearly thrirty years. His ex did not like to travel. They did not do much of it, and if they did, it was never alone. A few months ago, my brother went to Taiwan to be with our parents for several weeks and then spent five days in Norway alone. The llatter was when he realized that he was perfectly fine with himself and he didn’t need someone! That confidence, ironically, made him more attractive to women.
It’s trite, but true. The more yeou like/love yourself, then the more others will like/love you, too. I have not seen my brother this comfortable in his own skin and happy. I’m saying happy on his own. I have not seen him this happy in, well, decades.
I am so happy for him. I owe him a debt that I will never be able to repay. And I am talking about his dating life because not only am I happy for him, but because it highlights the differences between the straight-dating world and the queer-dating world.
I was talking to a queer friend on Discord about how straight guys would benefit so much from branching out into queer dating. Not necessarily gay sex, but just the mentality that sex can be beautiful in itself, that you don’t have to be monogamous, that you can be friends with an attractive woman without wanting to bang her. You can date something you would be friends with!
It’s like talking another language when I talk with straight people, men especially. Wait. Not a different language, but a different dialect of my language. I get what they are saying, but it doesn’t really register with me. I can be friends with exees. I can have sex without love. I can love more than one person at a time. I can have sex with more than one person at a time.
I feel as if I can finally break free from the shackles of what I was raised to be and from the norms of society that never resonated with me. This is part of the reason I’m writing what I’m writing for NaNoWriMo–I want to set myself free.