Owning My Love of Romance Novels

I'm sitting in one of my favorite restaurants, a locally owned bistro filled with the gentle hum of conversation and the soft rhythms of a guitar from a local performer.  I'm thoroughly enjoying my book and sipping on my tea when someone I know from work walks in.

Crap.

 

Maybe if I just raise the book a little higher they won't be able to tell it's me.  But oh, nope, too late.  They've seen me.  They're walking over and I return their smile even as I try to think about the best way to position the book so they can't see the lady who's having her dress peeled off by a half-naked hunk on the cover.

We make small talk and they ask the inevitable. 

"So what are you reading?"

"Uh...it's a really good book about...spies.  Yeah, spies during the Napoleon Wars."

The co-worker's brow arches.  "Oh.  It looks like a romance novel."

"Uh, yeah.  There's a little bit of romance in it, but it has a great mystery."

Does this scenario sound familiar?  One of the reasons romance books are leading e-book sales is due in part to many fans of the genre being too embarrassed to carry romance novels around in public.  Many are concerned about the ridicule, good-natured or not, that can accompany this simple admission; “I like reading romance books.”  

Men and women alike take all kinds of sides in this argument.  Some bemoan the addiction of the modern woman to the sappy romance genre.  Others argue that they create unrealistic expectations of relationships, sexual intimacy and the idea of true love.  Some just flat out refer to it as trash and the people who read them “crazy.”  One article (http://www.livescience.com/14985-romance-novels-bad-women-health-psyche-psychologist.html) talks about how reading romance books can be bad for a woman’s health and her psyche.  The psychologist mentions how there’s even a correlation between reading romance books and negative views towards condoms (side note: safe sex is important.  But how many readers think of rolling on a condom as sexy or want to read about it when they’re simply trying to enjoy a book?  If you do, awesome, but not my preferred cup of tea). 

That’s not to say that some readers don’t take it too far.  But to assume that every reader of romance can’t function in a healthy relationship, doesn’t have a brain or can’t handle reality is eye roll-inducing at minimum.

It was all of this and more that led to my years of carefully hiding books or even refraining from reading them in public places.  It wasn’t until I committed to my writing earlier this year that I made a decision.  I liked reading romance novels.  Yes, I enjoy reading other types of books, but I was going to stop making excuses for it and at times even lying about it.  I enjoy reading romance simply because I enjoy it.  The character development, the sexual tension, the first realizations of love, and the occasional mystery all keep me reading well past my bedtime.  I love how far the genre has come in featuring heroes and heroines from different backgrounds, cultures, times and even traumatic situations.  I also enjoy the more realistic portrayal of relationships, multiple conflicts included, but I always smile and sigh when the book ends on a happily ever after note.  It’s one of the best parts of the genre.  Even though I want the characters to be flawed and have seemingly insurmountable obstacles tossed in their path, I also want the trope kiss and “I love you.”

A couple weeks ago I was getting ready to walk down to my favorite restaurant, book in hand.  One of my male co-workers asked what I was reading.  Rather than skirt the issue, I smiled big and said “A historical romance.”  He smirked and asked “Like a Fabio book?”  “Yes,” I replied, “but the hero has better hair” (sorry, Fabio, no hard feelings).

I don’t take my half-naked heroes and heroines and rub them in people’s faces.  I don’t read intimate scenes out loud just so people know that I read romance.  But I don’t shy away from the topic anymore.  When someone says, “Oh, my mom/grandma/great-aunt reads those” I now respond with a smile and a “Oh, cool!  Who’s their favorite author?” rather than a blush of shame.

Everyone has their own preferred genre.  My husband prefers the old-school style of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle along with more recent sci-fi works like The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.  One of my co-workers (we’ll call him Dan) enjoys non-fiction books on hunting.  If I had to read one of these hunting books, I would moan, groan and probably start to pull my hair out by page ten.  But for Dan it’s a true pleasure.  And in the end isn’t that all that matters?