Getting Away from the Romance Novel Stigma

what’s wrong with a little romance in life?

Photo by Thoa Ngo on Unsplash

I’ve always loved a good romance novel. There’s just something about the woman getting the man (or woman, or man getting man, whatever floats your boat) and living, supposedly, happily ever after that makes my heart sing for joy. Except, there’s a little bit of guilt attached to romance novels, isn’t there? From the first Danielle Steele novels I read of my grandma’s at age 13, hidden in my room, feeling like I wasn’t supposed to be reading them (hello, those sex scenes are something else), to constantly buying a ‘smarter’ book whenever checking out at the bookstore, there’s always been that little niggling feeling that someone is judging me. Also, people are actually are judging me. My in-laws, a lot of them academics, scoff at the idea of romance novels, laughing at the absurdity of them like they’re gossip rags.

Romance novels, fluff novels, are looked down upon in the literary world, for obvious reasons. You don’t expect someone in a tweed jacket with elbow patches to sit down with a Linda Lael Miller and a tea, do you? No, of course not! They’d go for something a little more…Gatsby or Austen, if they were feeling romantically inclined. A paperback bought at the grocery or drug store? Same kind of street cred as a dime novel from the mercantile; I guess nothing has…