I have to confess something. I’m a slow writer so why I put off writing this blog until the last minute, I will never know. I started composing this while getting dressed and putting my face on. Normally I can multitask with the best of them, but today, not so much.
That’s why I’ve got on one dark blue sock and one black sock. And I’ve got one eye closed. You see, I was attacked by the mascara wand and now, may or may not be permanently blinded in my left eye.
Note to self: Separate my socks better and under no circumstances DO NOT type and attempt to apply make-up at the same time.
Now to the blog topic. Heroes. Pause for the appreciative sigh………… and batting of my one good eye. How do you take your heroes? Tall dark and handsome with magnificent hair they sweep away from their piercing blue eyes, chiseled jaw lines and full lips ripe for kissing, broad shoulders, a dusting of chest hair veeing down to their rock-hard abs, narrow waists and just enough hip action to hold up their pressed Wranglers.
Unless your heroine is Barbie, you should shoot from something a little less Ken-like.
Some might argue that we read to escape reality, and I’d have to agree, but I love reading and writing about men who’ve been tossed headfirst into the throes of real life and escaped with their dignity intact. I love men with battle scars and life experiences under their belts. Having said that, I believe it’s our job as writers to make these regular Joes interesting enough for us to fall head-over-heels in love with as much as a the picture perfect man in the listed above.
If you want to read about an on-the-run hero who is so beat up and unrecognizable the heroine calls him Frankenstein for the first half of the book, read Walking After Midnight by Karen Robards.
The hero in my latest work-in-progress is a small town sheriff. Ho-hum right? What if I tell you he’s an on-the-wagon alcoholic that he struggles to keep secret? And his brother owns the local bar. The sheriff plays the saxophone in a weekend band—at the bar where everyone is more than willing to buy him a drink. A little more interesting, right? What if I told you the sheriff always seems to need a haircut, a shave, an ironing board, and just rescued the heroine from an amorous pig hours after he arrested her for having a gun the bank parking lot? A little more intriguing? Hmmm. Still lacking that awe factor. What if I add that the sheriff gave up his dream to raise his ex-girlfriend’s teenage son—a kid that’s not even his—just to give the kid a better life?
Heroes come in all shapes, sizes and degrees of hotness. So, tell me, how do you like your heroes?
Hugs,
Reese
3 comments:
Reese, I hope your eye gets better. I could never multi-task while putting on make-up.
As for heroes, I love me some blue eyes and a nice smile. I tend to prefer the sweet guy with a naughty streak.
Reese, as always, you make me laugh out loud when I read your stuff. How do you do that? I love your sheriff hero. Can I hear more about him soon?
I loved the heroes come in all degrees of hotness...and the rest of the post, of course. But, yes, every hero is "hot" in some way, particularly to the heroine.
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