The first: Entanglement Theory. If you wikipedia that, you’ll come across a pretty dry definition. But I was clued into it by the To the Best of Our Knowledge podcast from January 23, “The Wonder of Physics.” At the end of the episode a writer explained it as the quantum physics theory that when two subatomic particles are spend a significant amount of time in each other’s orbits, they shadow each other . . . even after they are separated. If one spins a certain way, the other will, even if it’s moved far, far away. It gives me little goosebumps when I think about applying it to us, too, and the people we let enter our orbits–whether romantic, platonic, or family.

The second: the poem that Molly posted yesterday, “Those Who Love” by Sara Teasdale.

Those who love the most,
Do not talk of their love,
Francesca, Guinevere,
Deirdre, Iseult, Heloise,
In the fragrant gardens of heaven
Are silent, or speak if at all
Of fragile inconsequent things.

And a woman I used to know
Who loved one man from her youth,
Against the strength of the fates
Fighting in somber pride
Never spoke of this thing,
But hearing his name by chance,
A light would pass over her face.

But without further ado, here’s what I’ve come up with as some keys to a good romance. I’m sure there are things I’ve missed, or exceptions to the rule. Feel free to point those out in the comments!

1. The main story–the orbit–has to be about something other than the romance itself. Love stories are best when they’re subplots. The characters need an orbit to be in with each other, after all.

2. The two characters have some sort of immediate connection. Not necessarily a good one, but something that fascinates, intrigues, or challenges.

3. Their interaction is neither neat nor easy. There are complications, heartbreaks, arguments. The two of them don’t necessarily even know that they are in love, or that it’s going to work out. (Are you thinking Darcy & Elizabeth Bennet with these last two? I sure am. And West Wing‘s Josh & Donna, and MWT’s Eugenides & Attolia, and Graceling‘s Katsa & Po, and DWJ’s Howl & Sophie, and Sarah Dessen’s Wes & Macy, and . . .  see, I told you I’m a sucker for romance.)

4. Most of the romance is not directly talked about. It’s there in gestures, actions, reactions, and feelings, but rather than telling the reader how the characters feel, the writing makes us feel it along with them. As the poem points out, do the strongest loves need words? Are there even any words that could contain it right, anyway? Of course, that’s not to say there aren’t any direct declarations. There have to be one or two scenes when one of the characters holds a stereo over his head, or tells the other “how ardently he admires and loves her.” It’s payoff for all the signals and longing–and we do need to know that the characters realize what they feel for each other.

5. Along the same lines, a lot of the romance occurs in small, subtle details. It’s the build up of those everyday moments that make the grand gestures mean something. (I know I for one always think about the moment at the end of Lioness Rampant when George is there to catch Alanna before she even knows her knees are going to give out.)

6. There’s build up, yearning, tension as the characters circle each other, sometimes coming closer, sometimes further apart.

7. The ending isn’t a “happily ever after” that’s all sunshine and marshmallow fluff. Rather, it’s a hopeful choice that both characters are making together. They are a team by the end, a team that will take on whatever comes next, which is bound to be imperfect, but good because they can count on one another.

So, what do you think? Is this list a good start?

There’s a book that I read every year, either at first snowfall or over Christmas. And since we had that little blizzard on Saturday, it’s time for . . . Winter Dreams, Christmas Love by Mary Francis Shura. It has a heart with “romance” in it on the spine. Cheesy, right? But I just kind of love it, because actually, the story is not as sappy as you’d imagine.

This book was, I think, one of my last Scholastic book club purchases in the seventh grade. (Yes, I continued to order books long after it was cool. I don’t understand how people could resist the siren call of those paper fliers!) Come on, what 12-year-old girl is going to pass this cover up? Right?

And it’s exactly the right story for a shy 12-year-old, too. Ellen is a normal 14-year-old girl just starting high school, and she falls hard for Michael, the guy–a junior–that every girl falls for. We follow her for three years as she deals with high school and her unrequited crush. Of course, at the end, Ellen finds out that Michael had fallen just as hard for her, and they get together. It warms your mushy heart, doesn’t it? Discovering the boy you’ve been crushing on does, in fact, like you back just as much is what everyone wants in high school (or, let’s face it, far beyond high school).

But Ellen’s crush isn’t easy on her. It actually sucks pretty bad. When I was in seventh grade, the YA section of our Waldenbooks was filled with mostly Christopher Pike and R. L. Stine or really, really cheesy romances. So despite the cheeserific title, Winter Dreams, Christmas Love seemed refreshingly real. After realizing she loves Michael, Ellen thinks, “She’d seen a lot of movies, read a lot of romances. She had thought love was supposed to be stars in your eyes and joy that made you feel like dancing. She didn’t feel like dancing. Her chest ached and she felt cold. She clasped her arms across her chest and held her breath to keep from crying. If love hurt this much, she didn’t want any part of it.” Love is the exact opposite of rainbows and unicorns for Ellen, and it’s the first book I read back then that showed it that way.

There are flaws in the book, to be sure. The characters often sound oddly old-fashioned for something written in the ’90s. The chronology of the scenes doesn’t always totally fit. But neither of those stuck out to me the first few times I read it back in the day; it’s something that I’ve only noticed because of my repeated yearly reading. When I was 12, I was caught up in Ellen’s struggle. She also has wonderful friends–which has always been a draw for me in a story–and a warm family. And her crush on Michael develops into a lovely friendship, too, despite the way the unrequited love hurts her. “They were friends who loved each other,” it says at the end, “and they had all the time in the world to see what came of that.”

Yeah, it still gives me a warm, fuzzy feeling.

1. Josh & Donna, The West Wing

2. CJ & Danny, The West Wing

3. Bartlet & Abby, The West Wing

What West Wing fan didn’t feel all warm and fuzzy when Josh and Donna finally became a couple? I love watching the banter, the way they know each other so well, and the way neither lets the other get away with any crap. They can make each other laugh, and they are always there when needed. Josh is brilliant but arrogant, and a good friend; Donna is gullible yet savvy, smart, and can see right through him. A good tv couple, in my opinion, has loads of tension and what-if build-up. And two characters who challenge and complement each other.

And that’s why two more of my favorite couples also come from West Wing. CJ and Danny circle each other more obviously, maybe, than Josh and Donna, but the connection is still complex. And they are still two smart and funny people who get each other.

Then there’s the President and First Lady. Some of the best scenes in the show are when they’re fed up and yelling at each other, because it shows a strong relationship many years in, and with many problems and strains. They push each others buttons, but they, too, know that underneath everything is support and strength.

4. Veronica and Logan, Veronica Mars

This clip says it all, doesn’t it? Epic, volatile, dangerous, yet also vulnerable and sweet.

5. Rory & Jess, Gilmore Girls

Jess might be my favorite tv bad boy. He’s always been my favorite of Rory’s boys. He’s smart and is a reader, so can meet her on an intellectual level, but he challenges her goody-goody nature. And he just always kept coming back. In my mind, at the end of Gilmore Girls, Rory went off with Obama’s campaign, saw Jess during a stop in Philly, and they live happily ever after.

6. Ally McBeal & Larry, Ally McBeal

The favorite TV couple from the college years. Robert Downey, Jr. playing Larry completely won the hearts of me and my roommate. He and Ally are just so adorably crazy, in such compatible ways.

7. Scarecrow & Mrs. King, Scarecrow & Mrs. King

How can you not love an ’80s spy couple?

8. Roger & Joan, Mad Men

They’re funny, they’re challenging to each other, and they always know where the other stands. And who doesn’t love Joan?

Bromances. Sometimes the best couples are friendships rather than romances.

9. Seth & Ryan, The O. C.

I never really watched much of The O. C. because I couldn’t stand the girls. But every once and a while I’d turn it on and would be totally charmed by the friendship between Seth and Ryan. They’re hilarious, and such terrific friends.

10. Stefan & Damon, The Vampire Diaries

They so often make me laugh! I think their banter may be one of the main reasons I have gotten so into this show.

It occurred to me after reading the couple of comments on the adversaries post that the same dynamic is important in non-opponent relationships, too. Finishing Jellicoe Road recently also underscored it, as I watched how Taylor and Griggs’s opponentship and relationship unfolded.

The people who a protagonist spends time with, whether as friend, enemy, family, or love, have to be people worth that time for both the character and the reader. The king and queen of Attolia are one of literature’s greatest couples because they challenge each other both as opponents and as lovers. Nick and Norah (of the Infinite Playlist) work because they challenge each other. Mildred and Jacob in Me and the Pumpkin Queen are such great friends because they understand, support, and complement one another. The same with Billy, Tommy, and Ernestine in Tracking Daddy Down. And Toot and Puddle. The most compelling relationships are the ones in which the characters are different, but equal.

Maybe this is the germ of a future conference talk, but I’d love to hear what others have to say.

For the grown-ups:
The English Patient by Michael Ondaatje
The Time Traveler’s Wife by Audrey Niffenegger
Sexing the Cherry by Jeannette Winterson
Written on the Body by Jeannette Winterson
Possession by A. S. Byatt
Persuasion by Jane Austen
Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
Much Ado about Nothing by Shakespeare

For the teens:
Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist by David Levithan
Boy Meets Boy by David Levithan
Graceling by Kristen Cashore
Beauty by Robin McKinley
Sunshine by Robin McKinley
The Queen of Attolia by Megan Whalen Turner
The Truth about Forever by Sarah Dessen
Enna Burning by Shannon Hale
Howl’s Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones
Song of the Lioness quartet by Tamora Pierce
Criss Cross by Lynne Rae Perkins

The novels that have struck me most are The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks, The Forest of Hands and Teeth, and Graceling. I really liked them all for their strong female characters and their approaches to how these young women see their choices. In Disreputable History, Frankie has to deal with getting the guy she’s had a crush on, but him not seeing all of her, seeing her only as adorable, rather than the brilliant, challenging person she is. She has the thought in one situation, reflecting on how she’s proud of herself for confronting someone, “At least I wasn’t someone’s little sister, someone’s girlfriend, some sophomore, some girl–someone whose opinions don’t matter.” And later, “She will not be simple and sweet. She will not be what people tell her she should be.” In The Forest of Hands and Teeth, Mary lives in a world overrun by zombies, where humans are only safe in a fenced off village. But Mary’s heard of the ocean, and believes in it, wants to find it. She, too, ends up struggling with her love for a boy and her wish to see the ocean, to believe that more exists outside their fences. “Ever since that day on the hill, ever since he promised he would come for me, this was always supposed to be our dream, together. It was never supposed to be about having to choose one or the other,” she says at one point. It’s fantastic that teens have strong characters like Frankie and Mary who are confronting these sorts of conflicts, so that readers can see how these young women decide, deal with it. So that they see that being conflicted like that is okay. That they shouldn’t lose themselves for someone else. The only quibble I have is: why does it have to be a choice? Why can’t they be true to themselves and their dreams and have love? Of course, maybe the key there is that neither Mary nor Frankie have met the right guys, the ones that get them, and really see them. Which is part of what I adore about Graceling. Katsa has the same trouble– “She loved Po. She wanted Po. And she could never be anybody’s but her own.”–but she finds a way to have both. She’s able to remain thoroughly herself, but also to love and be loved, however unconventionally.

Katsa reminds me a little of Alanna from Tamora Pierce’s Song of the Lioness quartet (which have been my favorite books since I was ten) in how she reconciles having her freedom and her love. The Alanna books were among the first of the “kickass girl” books, in which the hero is a girl, not a boy, along with Robin McKinley’s The Blue Sword and The Hero and the Crown. So, twenty-ish years later, and there are many, many more books showing girls as heroes, as strong, independent people. But still facing the same choices and problems. I’d like to think that these days, though, these aren’t feminist issues, but people issues. And I do think there are boy books about the same themes.