When I walked into the biennial conference of a local chapter of the Romance Writers of America, I expected to learn something but also find lots at which to snicker. I expected to find breathy-voiced women with long nails talking about fine young stallions looking to sweep willing young women off their feet. Romance writing isn’t taken seriously. Even though I, along with my wife, had been writing and successfully selling romance fiction for several months, I didn’t really take it seriously either.
I didn’t find anyone who fit the above description at the conference. There was the woman who seemed to drink champagne wherever she went, and a token male in a kilt, but most of the attendees wouldn’t have looked out of place picking up their kids from soccer. And increasingly, as I listened to the speakers, I started to feel that I was at a feminist event, possibly the most feminist event I’d ever been to. I started to think that writing romance fiction was a feminist act.
I am an unapologetic feminist. One of my first feminist acts was storming out of a third grade “careers” class in the late 1970s. The teacher kept expounding on various jobs and then explaining why girls couldn’t do them. I grew up to take part in college campus protests. I camped in the woods and listened to folk music. I attended feminist gatherings, even getting myself kicked out of one. (I forget why.)
The overall theme of feminism, for me, is not about having it all. It’s about having what you want and being honest about who you are. It’s about respecting who you are and what you do. This was exactly what the women at this convention were doing—and they were doing it well.
Romance novels are read by women, written by women, and published by women. The convention that I attended, the 2014 Spring Fling Writers Conference, organized by the Chicago-North chapter of Romance Writers of America, was filled with so many women and so few men that the men’s restroom closest to the meeting rooms was designated for women only. A sign directed the small number of men in attendance to walk to a restroom at the front of the hotel. The women at this conference were independent, but so supportive of each other that I mistook several pairs for lesbian couples. Nope, they were just writing partners.
The main argument I hear for romance writing not getting any respect from the literary establishment (or anyone else) is that it sticks to a formula, but I learned that this is no longer true, if it ever was. There are some basic tenets, as with any other genre of writing, that must be followed. Romance fiction features a love story with a happy ending. Other than that, have fun with it.
And the fact that everyone gets a happy ending, that even the most downtrodden characters who might traditionally come to bad ends can fall in love and live happily ever after, is another element that makes romance fiction a radical act. In romance fiction, the lesbian werewolf with a thing for raw meat and three-ways underneath the full moon can get a date. The cross-dresser in 18th century England will find true love with a prince or a princess.
I believe that the lack of respect for the industry has much more to do with pure sexism than anything else. What could be more frightening to the establishment than an organized group of women with the intelligence and the financial leverage to say what they think? And they think that love wins. How dare they? How terrifying. We must subject them to ridicule.
This lack of respect is certainly not a reflection of the genre’s finances or size. According to the National Romance Writers of America, romance fiction generates $1.4 billion in revenue and comprises 17% of the book publishing industry.
But by far, the ultimate act of feminist defiance by romance writers is that they don’t care whether the literary establishment gives them respect or not.
“As romance writers you bring happiness to people. Never apologize for what you do,” said Mary Balogh, a keynote speaker at the conference and the author of nearly 100 novels and novellas set in 19th century Regency England. (Some of these books have hit the New York Times bestseller list.) She then urged the audience to “have the courage to take yourself seriously.”
None of the speakers at the event, including Balogh, said anything about asking anyone else to take them seriously or to give them respect or anything else. The literary establishment can snicker all it wants. Romance writers have readers. They do what they love. They get letters from readers saying how a particular story with its guaranteed happy ending got them through cancer treatment or the death of a loved one.
“Being able to tell a story is a gift, and it’s a gift the world is waiting for,” said Balogh. She received a standing ovation
Romance writers may even save lives. One author who writes gay male young adult romance explained that she doesn’t fight pirated downloads because she suspects that many who download without buying a book are gay teens who don’t have access to a credit card. (Or if they do have access, they can’t use it to buy gay books.) When I came out in the late 1980s, I clung to any positive representation of gay life I could find. She thinks she’s saving lives, and she probably is.
Romance writers do what they love, and they get paid for it. They hone their craft, like any other writer. They value their work, and they speak with an honest voice, telling the stories that they want to tell.
I can’t imagine anything more feminist.
And, I’d like to add, I got my own happy ending. My wife and I wrote an interracial gay male BDSM love story of which I’m very proud. Five Easy Chocolate Pieces has recently been published by Dark Hollows Press.
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Photographs provided by author.







9 responses
I too am an ardent feminist, and I enjoyed this window onto a world I know little about, but I quibble with the suggestion that the lack of respect for romance fiction is rooted in sexism. There is an understandable tendency, I think, for those of us who are not white men (and I am also African-American) to see sexism or racism lurking everywhere, because in fact they do lurk in a lot of places, but I do think that the distinctions between literary fiction and more commercial genres, art house films and the more commercial genres, higher brow cable TV shows and more populist network TV shows, have more to do with aesthetics than with anything else. Anyone, whatever their gender or race, can write in any of these mediums and they all have an important place in the culture, but respect isn’t everything. Sometimes speaking to a broad audience is enough. We can’t all have everything, so maybe it’s okay that we get the things we wanted, with all the critical respect and commercial success that that does or does not entail. The important thing is to be who we are and to find our place in the world without feeling that the place we’ve found needs to be validated by people who live in a different place.
@Paula. Thank you, very sincerely.
I have to agree with Danielle and disagree with Paula. Sexism is definitely the cause of the lack of respect for romance. Yes, it’s genre fiction and it does have a couple of rules but there is not the bitter denunciation of other genre fiction (such as mysteries, thrillers, and westerns), and the authors and the readers of same, as there is for romance. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the majority of the writers of the above mentioned genre fiction are most likely to be men. Saying it’s okay because it’s due to “aesthetics” is agreeing that the white male definition of what is valuable is the only one that matters. I don’t hate white men (having lived with 2 of them–one at a time–for over 40 years) but I’ve never felt that just because they’re male and white that they get to decide what’s good. I have been a feminist for about forever and I’ve been asked why I read that trash (romance, not the other stuff). I read it because it makes me happy and I learn things and that is a feminist act.
By the way, consider Nicholas Sparks, who is a man, and who writes books with pretty much the same formula (there’s a couple with a romantic relationship) except for the unhappy ending, and notice that he is considered literary but romance authors are not. He is not more literary than many of the romance authors I read and I say that based on being an English major in college and having read all sorts of books in the about 60 years since I learned to read.
I completely agree with your assessment of the conference (I was also in attendance) and the bias against romance novels having its origin in sexism. What are Ian Fleming’s James Bond novels but male romance novels? They contain most of the same elements as an Old Skool romance novel (exotic locales, adventure, a hot rake and gorgeous woman, sex with aggression by the man and dubious consent by the woman), but no one worries that exposure to Bond novels will lead young men to have unrealistic expectations of globe-trotting intrigue and constant access to sexy women. It is only women’s frail minds that cannot distinguish between escapist fantasies and relationship self-help books. Also, Mary Balogh writes some of the most introspective, emotionally profound books I have read in any genre.
I’m not a huge fan of romance fiction, but I love the idea of more writers approaching the genre with serious, feminist intentions. The more diversity of stories and voices, the better!
My mind is not frail. That is an undeserved generalization of the female mind.
Virginia, my use of the term “women’s frail minds” was completely sarcastic and referred to the way that the romance genre is looked down upon while similarly escapist male-centric genres are not.
“In Romance fiction, the lesbian werewolf with a thing for raw meat and three-ways underneath the full moon can get a date”. After I read that line another writer’s quote came to mind (I think I have it correct)…Freud never anticipated Walt Disney.
I agree with Paula. I’m a career writer (media, advertising, web) and have been a published historical romance writer for coming up to two years. I believe the reason why romance writing doesn’t get respect from some quarters is literary snobbery, the fact that romance is a popular (and thereby populist) genre.
I completely agree with Elinor – genre thrillers certainly do contain romantic elements. Guys I speak to about romance are initially surprised when I point out that Die Hard is a romance, but once they understand the concept – the quest, the romantic interest, the risk, the happy ending – they readily agree.
Romance is a wonderfully broad umbrella and I thank my grandfather for introducing me to the Mills & Boons he read in the early 1980s.
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