I just listened to Bryan Adams’ Everything I Do, I Do It for You sixteen times in a row.
No, I’m not having A Relationship Moment. Nor am I hoping for Death by Cornball.
I needed a totally schmaltzy song to match the horridly touching moment at the opening of the novel I am writing.
Wait, to properly set the mood, you must torture yourself too.
Come on, hit play, you know you don’t want to.
It’s playing? All right then.
So there’s this wedding photographer (now you know it’s not me, as I don’t photograph weddings.)
And she’s locked in a room with a Bridezilla. (Now I’m really glad I don’t do weddings, or all my clients would worry I’m about to expose them in my novel. Word to the wise: Never befriend a novelist.)
Bridezilla is planning to bail on the nuptials because her light o’ love did a switcheroo on the groom’s cake, which now has the Aggie logo.
I find this grounds for divorce, personally, but of course, my main character needs the two grand and has to figure out how to save the wedding, despite any anti-Aggie-isms.
So she plays the Bryan Adams song, hoping to soften up the bride.
You know, Everything I Do, etc. etc. It should be playing.
What? It’s not playing? You are a bad bad blog reader. (I’ll be cross checking the IP addresses of my web hits against the play count of the video—yeah, turn it on now, now that you’re busted. You KNOW nobody’s playing this video but us.)
Soak it in, Bryan Adams, this marvel of sap. And imagine a photographer convincing a bride that her groom changed the cake because everything he does, he does it for her…
The book is a romantic comedy, and I can only hope that if I’m laughing as I write it, so will someone else.
If not, well, I’m listening to Bryan Adams in vain. And that is so very very wrong.
Ping me for an excerpt, if you’re curious. Unless you are waiting for a photo order from me, and then of course I’m not writing a novel, but madly…filling your order. Really. Because Everything I do…I do it for…you.