An Expectation

Afterword

You can skip this if you'd like- afterwords are never the thing I most search out when I read a book. But for those of you who enjoy snarky little me, by all means, read on.

Those of you who have read my other stories know that I am deeply against cliches. The guy almost never gets the girl. The heroine actually wants to continue with her arranged match, and doesn't mind a gown. True love dies in the face of necessity.

(If you haven't read some of my other works, I hope this didn't spoil them. I won't say which ending matches which story.)

So, with my rebellious streak and growing predictability, I set out to find a story to twist. I came upon some letters from both World Wars from soldiers to their sweethearts, and read a few stories of soldiers who fell in love with their nurses. The lightbulb exploded over my head. Perfect, I thought.

My original blurb for this story went: 

"Lewis Miller was badly wounded (burns, blind in one eye, and missing arm) in the Battle of Verdun (1916) and sent back to England to recover. While there, he falls in love with his young nurse, Marion O'Leary. She teases him and becomes his friend, but ultimately marries James Abbot, because SHE OWES LEWIS NOTHING, and she doesn't want to marry him just out of pity."

Note the emphasis on SHE OWES HIM NOTHING. That seemed to be a prevalent theme in most novels- the beautiful girl falls for the somewhat weak man and they love each other deeply for all their lives.

Look, if that's how things worked out for you, then congrats. But do you really think that happens often?

For a class I had to read 1984 by Orwell, and I hated it. To me it embodies such a trope. The lonely, slightly rebellious man longs for the pretty, vivacious girl around him, and she ends up giving him everything while being so vastly underdeveloped it hurt. They'll kill and be killed, but oh no, not separate! The horror! To have a girl only be there for sex and for the mandatory 'ripe breasts and supple hips' that male writers almost always include infuriated me.

(Really, why are the always 'ripe'? What does that even mean?? )

And so this story began to take place. The shy boy, wounded and seeking comfort, finds it in the compassionate arms of his nurse, who then begins to doubt her love for another man because of their distance. In any regular novel, she would turn to the shy and handsome young man who would be her perfect match, they'd ride into the sunset, and roll the end credits, it's a romance. That loser she left behind didn't deserve her, you'd say walking out of the cinema. I'm so glad she found that boy who needed her.

One thing I've learned, though: Romance is nothing like the movies show it to be, and happy endings almost never come with the person you most expect. That's life- and I wanted to portray that.

So yes, Marion marries James, and Lewis gets a little bit cheated. Is Marion really his match, though, or was she just close by? What really defines a good match? Is he really cheated in the end, or is his fate appropriate?

Knowing me, did you expect much different?

We live and we learn, people. This story was conceived in anger and, to be honest, so have many, many other stories. I'll look back at this one and feel stupid one day- maybe tomorrow, even. But Marion, Lewis, and the rest- they lived, and they learned.

Best wishes and sincere thanks,

Megan Petersdatter.