Writing: Sexual Attraction Alone Does Not a Romance Make
How dare you lie to me.
I said what I said. I have a problem when a novel and or the relationship within is marketed as a romance when it does little to no romance-building.
And I was recently bam-freakin-boozled.
I’m not going to name fingers or point names here, but I recently read a popular fantasy romance novel that did this. I saw so many reviews saying “The romance is perfect!” while I was wondering… What do these characters have in common, and what do we even know about them that tells or shows us they’re compatible with each other? Just that they find each other sexy?
I’ve read a good chunk of “romances” that seem to use what I’m calling the “he was a boy, she was a girl, can I make it any more obvious?” approach.
The main character is there, and so is the Love Interest, ergo, LOVE! Personally, I need more than that to get invested in their relationship. I need to know that they care about each other as people, and have a vested interest in knowing each other before I can start rooting for them to get together and stay together.
And yes, I’m insinuating that this happens a lot in straight romances. I can’t speak for queer romances because the small dozen I’ve read have felt a lot more thoughtful and romance-y, but that’s just me.
Here are a few things that I think help make a romance a Romance 💖
Brought to you by me, from my brain, so you can either write a super cool romance or identify a bad one when you read one.
subjective opinion.
The characters want to know each other as people. Otherwise, the so-called romance might feel like it’s built on something close to objectification. Why do we want to romanticize that?
Some “romances” are borderline or just drowning in what feels like objectification, for the simple reason that the characters are “in love” but… the love is only based on their physical attraction to the other’s body.
They don’t actually know each other? They don’t ask each other questions? What about that screams “romance” and not just “lust” or “want”?
If the characters aren’t connecting with each other and learning each other’s likes, dislikes, wants, needs, history, dreams, etc. then it feels to me like they don’t have any interest in each other outside of a general sexual relationship (which is completely fine, it’s just not a romance), or their interest in the other is built on the idea of them and not who they really are.
The characters get vulnerable with each other, and that vulnerability doesn’t always turn into sex.
I probably wouldn’t have a problem with this or think too much about it if the rest of the romance felt effective. In The Book™ I recently read, it frustrated me because I was constantly wondering what the two characters saw in each other, and right when the author brought us to the brink of one (1) SINGLE vulnerable moment… it quickly got swept away in lieu of sex.
Sex can absolutely build intimacy and vulnerability; I’m not trying to argue otherwise. However, not every sex scene does that, and I do find it disappointing when authors use sex as a shorthand for vulnerability, or as the only example of vulnerability without having the characters get vulnerable in other meaningful ways.
This means opening up about their lives, sharing intimate details, and sharing secrets. Confronting hard things within themselves and letting the other see it. Asking the other to be with them while they do it.
I’m not saying they need Pride and Prejudice levels of hands-off abstinence (however the hand hold & flex IS and will forever be gold), just that they connect on the emotional plane as well as the physical.
The characters show and reciprocate their care and love for each other, even through subtle actions.
Do you want to know what I’m a sucker for? Of course, that’s why you’re here.
Little moments that show they care about or are thinking of each other. I love when they remember little details about their love interest and pick up their favourite coffee on the way to class. When they remember the other is a history buff and they share a historical fact to distract them when they’re worried. When they put a hand on the other’s arm to say “I’m here with you.” If I could make the heart-eyes emoji face in real life, I’d be doing it right now.
Something that really frustrated me about The Book™ I read is that the only time I felt any semblance of “like” from the male character was when he saved the protagonist's life or didn’t hurt her when she assumed he would—and isn’t the bare minimum a person should do be 1) not killing people and 2) not intentionally hurting others? Is the bar really that low? Does he have NOTHING else to offer other than being Pretty Fly For a White Guy? (The Offspring, 2014)
Pssst. You can reciprocate your care for me by sharing this post!
The characters build trust in each other.
Yes, even if they started out as enemies. Personally, I don’t think the tension in a “romance” should come from the constant worry that the other person might kill or hurt them. That sounds like domestic abuse, and it being fiction doesn’t negate that.
Plus, having two characters get honest and open with each other is so endearing and heartwarming. Having them listen to and comfort each other gets me super invested because it shows me they care—and wouldn’t you know it? The protagonist caring about something is the way to get readers to care, too! We’re in the protagonist’s head and looking at their experiences through their eyes, with their worries and wants and needs. If they don’t care, we don’t care.
Well, sometimes. A lot of people love The Book™ I recently read, but it’s like the Grinch said.
“One man's toxic sludge is another man's potpourri.” (The Grinch, 2000)
Jokes, jokes.
The characters relate to each other.
You can’t (well, it’s your choice, really) just stick two people in the same setting and make them kiss and then try to tell me it’s a romance. Like in real life, these characters need to relate to each other on a level that connects them and fosters a closer relationship.
So there are my thoughts™ on some of the things that help make a romance a Romance. I guess I view it like trying to grow the Grinch’s heart three sizes.
Fiction or not, no matter the premise, I’m just not the kind of reader that can be swept up by the narrative telling me characters are in love and doing away with all realism when it comes to building interpersonal relationships—but, hey! Each to their own.
I’m curious to know what you think! Do you agree or disagree, or have anything to add? Does the genre, such as romantic fantasy, historical romance, or contemporary romance, change your opinion on how to best write a romance novel? I’d love to hear from you.