Your Book Boyfriend Would Be a Terrible Roommate

He owns three houses, has dangerous connections, and can locate you anywhere on earth. Wonderful. But can he locate the dishwasher?

Romance novels give us men who arrange private flights before breakfast. Yet we rarely see them replace an empty toilet paper roll or ask whether the towels need washing. Apparently domestic competence gets edited out somewhere between the dramatic rescue and the epilogue.

Then there’s the brooding. A little brooding across a ballroom? Delicious. Brooding in the kitchen while you’re trying to find the coffee filters? Less compelling. Use your words, sir. Preferably before nine.

This is the beauty of a book boyfriend: we get the devotion, the tension, and the impressive real estate without negotiating refrigerator space. He stays on the page, where his emotional issues contribute to the plot instead of your utility bill.

Love the fictional man. Enjoy the grand gesture. But before you offer him a drawer, ask one essential question: does he know which night the trash goes out?