(Me Marching in the 2017 Women’s March in Chicago)
I know the title may sound a bit harsh but this is something I have wanted to write about for a while. I didn’t read my first true Romance novel until a few years ago. In fact, if you would have asked me about Romance novels, I would have made an uneducated snap judgment. I am not proud of that, but it is truthful. Although I would not have considered them true literature at the time, I certainly would not have judged anyone negatively for reading one. I remember as a girl visiting my grandmother’s house, she had shelves of romance books, with buff men, and women in long skirts with flowing hair, and heaving bosoms on the front. That is what I thought romance novel’s were, a damsel in distress, and a buff male hero on a white horse, swooping in to rescue her. I was so wrong.
After I wrote my first book, a dear friend of mine, who was very honest, said that something was missing from my romance novel. She suggested a few titles for me to read. I went in search of them at a local bookstore. I usually try to find what I am looking for on my own and had never come across an issue asking the store clerk for assistance before. As hard as I searched I could not find the title I was looking for, knowing I needed help to find the book (A Christine Feehan Ghostwalker Series Book). I asked the clerk who gave me a funny look, and then came out from behind the counter and showed me where the book was. I thought it was odd but shrugged it off.
My husband and I are bookstore bums, we love independent bookstores with second-hand books. An Americano, a rainy day and a huge second-hand bookstore is my perfect day! Many of these old stores are like labyrinths when it comes to finding a section or a particular book. In many cases, I would ask for help, only to see the same face that I encountered the first time I asked for a romance book. It is a judgemental look, that is loaded with miseducation and an opinion of what I should be reading instead. Over and over again, I have run into this look. Sometimes, it was even accompanied with an attitude of impropriety, like I was asking for smut or books that should be wrapped in brown paper. Surely I must be some sort of degenerate to ask for such a thing in public. The thing was, that could not have been further from the truth. Romance is fiction, not smut.
At first, this look and attitude would dissuade me from asking for help and I would leave the bookshop without the book I had gone in for. As I began to think about this I realized how ridiculous this was. I am a grown woman, I can read whatever I would like. Recently, I saw a post on Twitter about this subject, romance novels and female customers feeling like they had been slut-shamed for buying romance novels. A debate erupted and it really came down to opinions on what women should be reading vs. what they are reading. This debate, as any good debate does, made me think more about it. I won’t lie, it also made me angry. The romance genre has gone mainstream, and why should it not? Romance is creative fiction, like sci-fi or horror. I finally decided I was not going to put up with this judgment any longer. As a paying customer, I have the right to ask for any book that is carried in the store. I am not going to be slut-shamed for asking for a romance novel. I am a strong, smart, competent woman who may read whatever I want. I am also going to support all of those wonderful romance authors whose work deserves to be out there and sold just like any other book in the store.
Last fall, I ventured into a bookshop outside the University of Chicago. I have given them a lot of business over the years but not enough that the store owner knows my name. One day, after searching around the store for the romance section, I again had to ask for help, I could not find it. The conversation went something like this:
“Excuse me, can you please tell me where I could find your romance section?”
“You are like the fourth or fifth person to ask me today.”
“It is a growing genre.”
“Clearly. Are you a big romance reader?”
“I guess you could say that.”
“Would you mind making some suggestions for our section, I am afraid it is sorely lacking?”
No joke, the owner of the bookshop asked me for suggestions on what to add to their romance collection! I was shocked. I had expected that same judgemental face but instead, I got the opposite reaction. I named a few authors off of the top of my head but said that if he wanted I would be happy to send a list of the works that I had enjoyed the most. He was grateful. A few days later I did send in the list and received a lovely email in return thanking me for the suggestions. I have not been back into the store since, but I am excited to see the improved Romance section when I return.
Unexpectedly, I found myself out in L.A. this past summer. There is an amazing bookstore dedicated to romance books only, called The Ripped Boddice. As I live outside of Chicago, I knew I had to go, it was my chance to visit this one of a kind bookshop. It was refreshing to ask the clerk where I could find the type of romance novels I was looking for. She and I even had a conversation about the romance novels we each enjoyed the most and why we liked them. This was some sort of romance book Nirvana. It was an amazing book buying experience. If I lived closer I would be a regular customer. This shop was started by two women, who embraced that smart women read romance novels. If you ever get the chance, I highly suggest that you stop by, you won’t regret it!
My point here is, that Romance authors and Romance novels are fiction just like every other genre. I have the right to read whatever I want, and so does every other person. Romance as a genre, I would argue can be even trickier to write than other genres at times, because emotions are complex, sometimes subtle and other times overwhelming. It is not always easy to convey these emotions in writing. So to all of my fellow romance authors out there, keep at it! By continuing to write robust and complex stories of love, we can grow the genre and remove the taboo.
Leave a Reply