Too Much Realism?

I’m married to a cop. That’s not a complaint – just a statement of fact, really – but it’s funny to me how many author types say that I should write a romance with a law enforcement official of some kind, simply because I have so much to draw from. (That whole write what you know thing, I guess). The problem here isn’t that I don’t have enough info or that I couldn’t come up with a good story, but it’s really not anything I want to write about. I write stories to escape as much as anything else – why would I ever want to write about what I deal with on a daily basis?? That’s rhetorical, I suppose – cops are glamorized for good or for bad, just like every other blue collar position out there – EMT, firefighter, etc. Their concept make good heroes – large, brawny men with glowing streaks of honor (even if it’s honed somewhere deep inside). I get it, I guess, but the reality is a bit different.

1) Cops are definitely brave, loyal, honorable – when it comes down to it, they are cut from a different cloth than the rest of us. They have to be in order to do what they do. On the other hand, they also have the tendency to gossip like schoolgirls. They sometimes pout like them too.

2) Never sit in the back of a squadcar if you have a choice not to. Never write a love scene where your hero and heroine are having sex in the back of a squadcar. They are filthy, filthy places. Here’s an example of a phone call from mr myn.

*ring*

“Hello?”

*loud music in background to prevent occupant in backseat from listening to conversation*

“Hey, I’m gonna be late for dinner tonight – I have to take this DIP to jail. Asshole just puked all over the backseat.” *pauses* “And he just shit his pants too. Gotta go.”

Yeah – people who end up in the backseats of squad cars are usually there for a reason. And most of them are nasty – they routinely spit, piss themselves, puke, bleed on or shit themselves back there. Please spare me and don’t let mr cop hero deflower his lady friend there too. At least show him bleaching the unholy fuck out of the thing first. Or do what everyone else does, and have them have sex on the hood of the car. (But turn off that lightbar, otherwise the camera will be on and they’ll be caught!)

3) Make sure your hero talks about all the really gruesome stuff they’ve seen recently – especially at dinnertime. Pictures are always a plus. “Hey look – it’s that guy who blew his brains out in the park this morning!” or “Hey, check out this killer knife wound – look how you can see all that fatty tissue falling out it!”

4) Some things really are just too horrid for words. The time mr myn had to see the 3 year old eviscerated on the table at the medical examiner’s springs to mind. It was not a good day.

5) People suck. Cops get jaded because they put their lives on the line for people who apparently have very little care for their own. Read: the woman whose husband beats the shit out of her and then shows up at court and refuses to press charges. It’s disheartening in the extreme, mostly because these people keep doing it. I know – nature vs nurture, but evolution makes its case for a reason. Leave the dumbfuck already and take care of you and your kids. Stop calling the cops if you don’t want your dickhead baby daddy arrested.

6) Don’t make any fucking plans. No dinner plans, especially. Most days, mr myn does make it home on time – but getting stuck on a late case is a reality, sometimes a massively frustrating one. A lot of it is processing and paperwork – sometimes it’s bigger and cooler than that, but most of the time it’s really boring. So that translates into missed meals, missed tv shows, missed opportunities to play with the kids, missed bedtimes and lots of evenings where the cop passes out on the couch, five minutes after sitting down.

7) On the other hand, he’s got hand cuffs. 😉

That’s just a quick look at my life. 😉 It sounds a little bitter, but I’m not trying to be- it’s just part of my daily reality. Maybe you can see where I’m coming from. Is it interesting stuff? Yup. Do I want to write about it? Fuck, no. I live it and that’s good enough for me. 🙂