On Rogues and Whey We Love Them

Marlon Brando, looking dirty and brooding and oh so roguish in a publicity still from A Streetcar Named DesireI have a soft spot for rogues.

It’s probably not a shocking admission. Aside from the fact that today marks the launch of a new series (!!!!) dedicated to rogues and scoundrels, anyone who loves romance the way I love romance…they way you likely love romance (after all, you’re reading this blog)…probably has a soft spot for rogues. And part of why I love the Writers on Rogues series that is going on all month here is because I’m not alone. Obviously, if you become a romance novelist, you’re probably a rogue girl.

It’s rogues, after all, who capture our interest when we’re far too young to understand just how dangerous they are—I can still remember watching a sweaty, t-shirted Marlon Brando bellowing “Stella!” up the steps of his New Orleans apartment house when I was six or seven. I didn’t understand a single thing about A Streetcar Named Desire…I’m not sure I processed that Stanley had hit his pregnant wife, or that he was about to do much worse things to his mad sister-in-law. But I knew he was rough and ragged. And I loved him anyway.

And once we do understand the appeal of the bad boy—once we’ve steeped ourselves in the myth of the leather-jacketed, smoking, swearing, high-school hoodlum (thank you James Dean and Grease and Johnny Depp), we still don’t learn. I spent the large part of my 16th year pining away for a bad boy named Brock. He was everything the name implies—tall and dark haired and utterly unsavory, but he could smile at a pudgy girl with a chip on her shoulder and thoroughly disarm her.

Then we grow up, of course. And we realize just what Stanley was doing to his wife. And we realize that great smile or not, that rogue from high school probably isn’t the kind of guy that you want to bring home to your parents. Or introduce to your friends (I should add, I just googled Brock, and the first hit was an arrest record. Of course.). But this doesn’t change the fact that rogues intrigue you, and that somewhere, deep inside, where you’d never admit it to anyone but your closest, best friend, there’s a tiny part of you that believes that you can be the woman to show that rogue the error of his wicked ways.

That’s where romance comes in. Because, you see, in romance, love heals. And changes. And turns rogues into soft, malleable putty in our hands (well, hopefully not too soft!). In romance, the wallflower captures the rake’s attention, and then his heart. In romance, the quiet, perfect lady stands up to the dark wicked scoundrel, and returns him to the light. And in romance, the rake is redeemed by the love of a wonderful, honest woman.

We don’t love rogues because they’re bad. We love them because they have the potential to be good…if only they find the right woman.

So, confession time…do you have a rogue in your past? Tell us about him! (But be warned…googling him may cause disappointment!)


15 Responses to “On Rogues and Whey We Love Them”

  • Linda Chaput

    My rogue is my present husband of 25 years.He was always mischeivious,daring and adventurous.

  • LilMissMolly

    I did have one before I got married. He was almost 10 years older than I was when I was 19 and he lied about his age!

  • Olivia Kelly

    If I get started, I will run out of space. I married a bad-boy-turned-good (the best kind!), but I*always* dated the guys guaranteeing to break my heart into tiny pieces, stomp on it, then punt it across the room for good measure. The kind that you chase, they let you catch them, then shrug you off. Later, when you’ve finally gotten rid of all your soggy pillows and stopped scrawling your intertwined names on everything, they want you back. Sigh.
    There was one guy in high school, Noah, who just loved being a flirt. He flirted with any girl remotely attractive, but had a way of making you feel like you were the only one he thought was cute/funny/smart. He would make the most scandalous suggestions, just to watch you turn beet-red, then laugh it off. Despite being a bit of a jerk, he would never hesitate to give me a ride home if I needed one, and he always kept his hands to himself. One minute wicked and teasing, the next a gentleman. Hmm. There’s a book there… ;D

  • Sophie

    We all love a bad boy because we think that we can be the one change them, it never works. Well, at least for me anyway….yet.

  • Tina B

    I won’t go into too much detail because that would take too much time. I dated one when I was a teenager. He was a fighter but was still so sweet with the people he cared about. We had a crazy and intense relationship off and on for years. He got detained, LOL, and I left the area. That was almost 10 years ago. I heard that he is married now. I am happily married to an amazing man, though not a rogue, still sexy. ;) So, I guess it was good that things happened the way that they did.

  • Ruth

    Rogues speak to the soul of one who is responsible and practical and reasonable . . . and who is wearied by it. They are what a “nice” girl longs to be herself and knows that deep down she never will take the risk. And if he pays her attention then she must certainly not be as staid and boring as she fears. Perhaps he can really “see” her as more than proper and well-behaved. Thankfully, all will be well in the world of historical romance, and that is one of the reasons I read it! So here’s to your new series of rogues and bad boys and dark and dangerous pirates and the women they can’t live or love without-I can’t wait!

  • Alisa B. Hilde

    The love of my life, Trevor, is rogue through and through only now he only acts like one only with me! :)

  • Sarah

    So I know this is suppose to be about Rogues, but when will we get the book for the two characters featured in the Epilogue of “A Rogue by Any Other Name”? I want the book and I want it now (I’m not very patient, I’m sorry).

  • Kelly Carlson

    Hi Sarah! Love your books! I dated a few rogues, for sure. First was when I was 17, he was 21 and had driven on a motorcycle across Canada to visit us in Halifax, Nova Scotia. Too hot in his leather jacket! I cried buckets when he left. Then I dated a musician named Dion for a very brief time – blue eyes, blond hair, a real heartbreaker! He certainly broke mine! But they say third time is a charm… I married my third rogue and we have two little rogues of our own, 2 and 5 years old, both boys.

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