Some of you might know that I really enjoy reading stories about bear shifters. I don’t know why, exactly. But I love them.
Or at least, I did.
I should put a disclaimer on this post. If you don’t like to be confronted by nature and how hard it can be to survive in the wilderness, please don’t read on.
One day I’m tweeting about how much I love bear shifters.
Later that night I’m watching North America (recommended for all authors).
Then something horrible happens.
The documentary shows bears. They are very cute! Oh, and look! Cubs! Adorable.
Then the narrator says this: Adult male bears in the wild will kill cubs if they get in their way.
*Stares in horror at screen*
They didn’t just say…
Yes, they did.
Male bears get very violent when they’re defending their food. Which makes sense. I mean the wild is not an easy place to survive.
I’m not going to lie. Reality kind of ruined bear shifters for me.
I hope one day I can move on from this devastation. But until then…
And people are like why do you read so much? Why do you write romance?
Because in fiction, bear shifters are big, growly attractive men with hearts of gold. In reality, bears are well… not.
(No offense to bears! I know… it’s nature.)