Reluctant Romance Writer

Genre-ing myself is a difficult task

How did I become a (reluctant) romance writer?

This is the question I've been asking myself since I signed a contract with The Wild Rose Press in October of 2023.

In my reflection, I've discovered the following:

All of my YA books and short stories have had a romantic relationship as the focal point. Not only that, but I've also always included "steamy" stuff with the romantic relationships. (Ugh, I cringe at using that word, yet it is the correct one!).

On the other hand, all of my work has been character-driven, with the spotlight on the development and changes of the characters within the story rather than on—to be very blunt—sex or romance. Yet intimate relationships have always been a theme, but not always romantically intimate. Friendships, family, and romantic partners are all significant features in just about every piece of fiction I've written.

In addition to the above, I've always been a sucker for a good romantic movie, yet also cringe—at times—while watching some of them. I consider Say Anything (yes, GenX-er here) one of the most romantic movies in my lifetime. For a more contemporary set of movies, I loved all of the Kissing Booth movies with Joey King (which made both my daughters (ages 20 and 16) cringe!). Yet sometimes, these types of movies make me want to hide my eyes behind my hands. For example, while I watched Zac Efron and Nicole Kidman kissing and then having sex in their new rom-com, I covered my face like it was a scary movie! And back when the Twilight movies were a thing, I couldn't watch (or read) more than the first one. I guess it depends: Sometimes romance makes me gag, and other times it makes me swoon. 

Speaking of swoon-worthy romance, I admit I devoured Maybe Someday (Colleen Hoover), Shug (Jenny Han), and A Court of Thorn and Roses (Sarah J. Mass). Yet, I also find the following books equally if not more swoon-worthy: Call Me By Your Name (André Aciman), Normal People (Sally Rooney), Me Before You (Jojo Moyes), My Heartbeat (Garret Weyr), and Detransition, Baby (Torrey Peters). The former are all classic contemporary romance novels, whereas the latter are not, right?  

Here is where I am downright confused. What actually makes a book a "romance novel"? I know that certain phrases and words are common in romance novels. I know there are certain tropes too. But those hallmarks can't be what defines a romance novel. At least not to me.

When I write, I don't consider genre. Starting with my first book, My Sister's Wedding, I didn't even know what genre it was until I sent out my first query. The agent wrote back, calling it "contemporary young adult fiction," and later, another labeled it a "YA romance." I didn't think much of any of these labels at the time. 

Genre has never been something I could easily put my writing into. It's been something I found that when I have thought about it too much, it will reduce me to a paralyzed mess and render me unable to put even one finger on the keyboard. Even now, if I keep "romance writer" at the forefront of my mind while tapping away at the current manuscript I'm working on, I can't write. I stop cold. I have to go do something else until my brain clears.

The label I feel most comfortable with is reluctant romance writer. Or quirky romance writer? Or non-traditional romance writer? Or, as we say in the mental health bizz—romance writer not otherwise specified (only therapists and mental health folks will get that joke).

So, how did I become a (reluctant) romance writer?

I have no idea!

My NEW romance novel coming out in early 2025!