Writing a historical romance is like throwing a Regency ball: you need the right setting, the right characters, and a scandal simmering just beneath the surface. But before you embark on your literary journey, let’s discuss a few rules—or, shall we say, guidelines—to ensure your historical love story doesn’t end up feeling like a history textbook in a frilly dress.
1. Choose Your Era Wisely
Sure, Regency England is the reigning queen of historical romance, but have you considered the wild intrigue of the Gilded Age? The tension of the Roaring Twenties? Pick an era that excites you—because if you find Victorian social mores exhausting, your readers will too. Just remember, accuracy matters. You can’t have your medieval heroine sipping tea and reading Jane Austen unless she’s invented time travel.
2. The Hero Must Smolder
Historical romance heroes must possess an impossible combination of brooding mystery and impeccable tailoring. Whether he’s a misunderstood duke, a dashing highwayman, or a stoic Viking, he must always have a dark past and an unsettling ability to lean against doorways in an attractively tortured fashion.
3. The Heroine: Fiery, Feisty, but Not Too Feisty
Your heroine must be “not like other women,” which, in historical romance, means she reads, rides astride, and questions the patriarchy just enough to be interesting but not enough to derail the entire social order. Bonus points if she has a signature hobby—botany, fencing, or scandalously wearing colors not suited to her complexion.
4. The Villain Must Twirl His Metaphorical Mustache
A good historical romance villain needs flair. Perhaps a wicked guardian determined to marry the heroine off to a titled cad, or a jealous rival who spreads ruinous gossip with devastating efficiency. Whatever their evil agenda, they should inspire at least one scene where the heroine barely escapes their clutches with her virtue intact—barely.
5. Historical Accuracy…ish
Your characters shouldn’t talk like they wandered in from the twenty-first century, but let’s face it—true historical dialogue would read like an obscure legal document. Strike a balance. Your hero can say “I burn for you,” but maybe not “thou art my heart’s sole desire.” And please, avoid anachronisms unless you’re writing time-travel romance (in which case, by all means, hand your Viking a smartphone).
6. A Ball Is Mandatory
If your novel doesn’t have at least one grand ball, why are we even here? A ballroom scene is your opportunity for longing glances across the dance floor, whispered insults hidden behind politeness, and, of course, the heroine stumbling into the hero’s arms after an unexpected ankle twist.
7. The Grand Misunderstanding
A historical romance isn’t complete without a perfectly preventable misunderstanding that stretches on for at least fifty pages. Ideally, this involves a secret letter, a meddling relative, or a dramatic storm that delays vital information. The reader must know the truth while the characters remain blissfully oblivious.
8. The HEA (Happily Ever After) Is Non-Negotiable
No one picks up a historical romance for gritty realism. Your heroine deserves to ride off into the sunset with her brooding hero, probably in a well-appointed carriage, both slightly disheveled but deliriously in love.
In conclusion, writing a historical romance requires equal parts research, imagination, and a deep understanding of just how much longing can be conveyed in a single glance. So, tighten your corset, polish your hero’s cravat, and get writing—your happily ever after awaits.
And….
this was written by AI and I’ve shared it unedited. I put in the prompt: Write a funny column about how to write a historical romance.
What do you think? Could you tell it wasn’t me/human? What did you think about the quality of the writing?
And, no, I do not plan to have AI write for me! But I do like keeping track of its abilities. It is getting better.
Yes, if that’s what Ai thinks is historical romance it’s probably not as advanced as it claims to be yet ,or at least other people claim it to be.
It is definitely not!
Was that written by AI of the 1980s?
Perhaps a wicked guardian determined to marry the heroine off to a titled cad, or a jealous rival who spreads ruinous gossip with devastating efficiency.
I know you did this as a bit of fun, but actually, it’s depressing. (Because AI mined the www and came up with this tripe!)
And yes, I could tell it wasn’t you – this reads more like a damning list of clichés and you don’t think of romance in those terms.
It IS depressing that this is what AI thinks romance looks like.
Even more sadly, because AI can only regurgitate what its been fed, which shows exactly how much crap written about romance is readily available on the web.
It’s not just crap about romance but crap romance that’s readily available.
It definitely didn’t sound like your voice. I didn’t immediately think AI, because I just don’t think about it except to avoid it like the plague where I’m able, so I was strumped by the mile-wide, inch deep look at historical romance stereotypes. I thought you’d pulled this little gem from someplace to share since there has been so many discussions on here about historicals and historical accuracy. In fact, I just went down a rabbit hole here yesterday rereading the comments on A Gentleman Undone since the audiobook is on sale several places with Mary Jane Wells narrating (who I enjoy listening to). That led me to other post…
I thought Susan Erickson narrated that one? (A Gentleman Undone by Cecilia Grant)
I have reached the stage where I wonder if every photograph I see is AI generated.
I put the wrong title in. It’s The Duke Undone by Joanna Lowell, narrated by Mary Jane Wells. I’ve read the other one, too, so my brain must have just jumped there! Sorry!
It was humorous in places so I did not think you did not write it. However, there were several odd phrasings which made me wonder but I definitely did not suspect AI. In art, I can spot AI a mile away.
It was too flip, too superficial, and totally without any wit to have been written by you. In fact, about half way through reading it, I glanced at the byline again to be sure it was your name (not that I think it sounded as if it was written by any of the other AAR regulars). When it comes to AI, I keep going back to the story of my brother and me as children mixing all of our plasticine (modeling clay) so we’d have more to play with. All the colors (this was the pre-Play-Doh era) blended together to make a big grayish-brown mass. Yes, we had a lot of clay, but it was all one drab color. After we finished playing, my brother asked for all his “colors” back—and I had to explain that once all the colors were mixed up, they stayed that way. This is an apt metaphor for AI: it creates a big dull mass where all color and vibrancy and individuality have been completely smothered.
I love that analogy!
Entropy!
I quickly thought you didn’t write this because it was, well, kind of dumb rather than clever. (And how does one polish a cravat?)
I put in the prompt: Write a funny column about how to write a historical romance. It wasn’t uproariously funny but more tongue in cheek and the “polish the hero’s cravat” did come across as a bit of sarcasm overlaid with some humour. I confess I wasn’t quite sure as I read it but as we have had this discussion for decades, I was pretty sure it wasn’t Dabney. On the other hand, it scares the sh1t out of me to think that AI can do this and it makes me wonder how many Summa Magna Cum Laude/First Class Honours Degrees are for real. I just hope my GP didn’t get through medical school using AI to write his exams!! Though, if what I read is correct, AI will be diagnosing me anyway. Possibly no escape. Frightening.
My professor friends say it is such a nightmare–many are retiring. They say it’s impossible to tell a student work from an AI work. I find it terrifying.
The rapid advance of AI is another of those things about which I feel compelled to paraphrase Jeff Goldblum’s character in Jurassic Park:
AI will push universities to reconsider how they evaluate student coursework. Written essays might be replaced by oral evaluations. Or just timed, handwritten essays.
When I took my grad school orals way back in the day, the test was timed–3 hours–and handwritten. I had to apply for permission to use a typewriter!
I do feel like AI is going to make us put a higher value on actual human interactions which is a good thing in my opinion.
My sister was accused of using AI for a research paper she did last year for a geriatric aging class she was taking as part of a continuing education/long distance degree for recreational therapy. (She hadn’t used it at all, she’s in her mid-40s and already has a degree in archeology, she just writes a lot better than 20-somethings). She was so offended! She wrote to the professor and the dean of the college in protest. After a lot of back and forth, they offered to have her write a test online with an observer to make up the mark (as she’d gotten a zero on the paper). She refused in principal as she hadn’t done anything wrong. She ended up with a B in the course, and a very sour impression of the college (and serious doubts about whether she’d continue with their online degree program).
That is such a bummer. I think online classes will all have to become pass/fail–there’s just no way to know nor to treat students fairly. It’s the worst of all worlds for all parties concerned.
The question of “real” degrees shows that AI is adding a new twist to an old problem. An article I read recently included an estimate that phony degrees from degree mills are a billion dollar a year business.
I was curious to see who had written it, because it clearly wasn’t Dabney. I agree with DDD’s comments (flip, etc.) and would add that it reads as though it is trying too hard. It reminds me of clickbait writing.
And I agree with everyone else who bemoans that this is what the Internet thinks historical romance writing is. (sigh)
Oh, and I’m pretty sure I’d DNF a novel that sounded like this as well.
It does sound like a frothy magazine one-pager in women’s world or some such
Does Women’s World still exist? I’ve probably aged myself there LOL
I must have been the only one who was fooled when I read it. As usual, I wasn’t paying attention to the writing, but the content, so I didn’t think, “Oh, this isn’t by Dabney.”
When I get nervous about IA and the internet, I think, “Well, anything that humanity values, we preserve.” This includes art and home cooking and even sewing and most of all, originality and thought–both apparent enemies of computers. There’s not much in this world that is totally good. Computers are no exception to this rule.
I wouldn’t have known it was AI, though I knew it wasn’t your writing style Dabney. I just thought it was a guest article until the end!
Its like you read my mind! You appear to know so much about this, like you wrote the book in it or something. I think that you can do with a few pics to drive the message home a little bit, but instead of that, this is excellent blog. A fantastic read. I’ll certainly be back.