I was watching Beauty and the Beast last night thinking to myself (foolishly) that I could put it on as “background noise” while I wrote. Instead, I ended up singing along.

Ohhhhh isn’t this amaaazing

It’s my favorite part beeecauuuse yoouuu seeee

Heeeeere’s where she meets Prince Charming

But she won’t discover that it’s him, till chapter threeeee

Oh yeah, baby. That’s the stuff. I think that’s why I love to read a love story, no matter what genre it finds itself in. It’s that glee of knowing something that the protagonist hasn’t figured out yet, when you’re screaming in your head “He loves you! Can’t you see it? He loves you!” and you wait with butterflies in your stomach for the moment that she realizes it, and holds it true to herself.

That’s why I’m a reader, and a writer. I get to fall in love over and over and over. You find your adventure in the great, wide somewhere, and you revel in finding so much more than they’ve got planned.