With 'Attachments,' my goal was to write a really good romantic

The words of Rainbow Rowell—“With ‘Attachments,’ my goal was to write a really good romantic comedy. I wanted the reader to be smiling throughout”—are simple in their phrasing, yet they contain a vision that speaks to the very core of storytelling. Here is the voice of a creator who does not merely seek to construct a plot, but to shape an experience. The goal is not only to tell a story, but to leave the reader uplifted, heartened, and filled with joy. For in an age of uncertainty, to craft something that makes another smile is no small work—it is an act of healing, a gift of light.

The origin of this sentiment can be traced to the timeless purpose of stories themselves. Long before books, before screens, before even the ink of poets, tales were told around the fire to bring laughter, hope, and unity to the people. Romance and comedy, in their union, formed one of humanity’s most enduring traditions. They remind us that though life is fraught with hardship, it is also redeemed by tenderness, by laughter, by the possibility of love. Rowell, in aspiring to write a “really good romantic comedy,” is reaching toward this ancient current—one that has always sought not only to entertain but to comfort and to inspire.

Consider the plays of William Shakespeare, whose romantic comedies—Much Ado About Nothing, Twelfth Night, A Midsummer Night’s Dream—continue to resonate across centuries. In them, audiences were led through confusion, trickery, and missteps, only to arrive at joy and resolution. People left the theater smiling, not because life’s struggles were erased, but because they had been given a glimpse of harmony, of laughter woven with love. Rowell’s words echo this same tradition: to gift her readers that sense of delight, to keep them smiling as they journey through the pages.

To make a reader smile “throughout” is no shallow task. It demands honesty, for false joy cannot endure. It requires tenderness, for the heart must be cared for, not manipulated. And it requires courage, for to write of love and laughter in a cynical world is to declare that hope still matters. In this sense, Rowell’s pursuit is not merely artistic, but heroic. She dares to be a romantic, to believe that joy can be deliberately crafted and still ring true.

The lesson we must take is this: bringing joy to others is a sacred calling. It is not frivolous to make someone smile; it is vital. The world is heavy with burdens, and those who labor to lighten it, even for a moment, are doing holy work. A kind word, a playful story, a gentle gesture—all these, like Rowell’s book, have the power to turn despair into hope, silence into laughter, loneliness into warmth.

Practically, we are called to follow this example in our own lives. Speak words that lift others rather than crush them. Create experiences—be they stories, conversations, or shared meals—that leave those around you smiling. Seek not only to survive your days but to brighten the days of others. For in the end, the joy you sow becomes your own harvest.

Thus, Rowell’s words are more than a reflection on her writing—they are an invitation to live as creators of joy. A really good romantic comedy is not only found in books or on screens; it can also be lived in the daily interactions of ordinary people who choose love, laughter, and light.

And so, let this wisdom be passed down: strive to write, to speak, and to live in such a way that others leave your presence smiling. For a smile is no small thing—it is proof that even in a world of sorrow, the heart has not forgotten how to hope.