Romance novels have always depended on barriers. At the heart of the genre is the idea that two people want each other but cannot, at least for a time, have each other. Class, family, pride, circumstance—something stands in the way, and love must be tested against it. Readers turn the pages not simply to reach an HEA, but to see how it is earned.
Too many of today’s romances bypass that struggle. Conflicts evaporate because the plot arranges itself neatly. Careers never clash, families relent at just the right moment, and lovers themselves are so flawlessly constructed that nothing is ever truly at risk. When the solution to a barrier is one person giving up everything, or one character being written as endlessly perfect, the story loses both its veracity and its spark.
Some recent books prove the old lessons still work. In Tia Williams’s Seven Days in June, Shane and Eva carry the weight of past mistakes, and only when both confront the damage they caused do they find a way forward. In Emily Henry’s Happy Place, Harriet and Wyn’s reconciliation isn’t about one yielding entirely but about both reshaping their lives to make space for each other. Kennedy Ryan’s Before I Let Go insists on hard-earned growth, asking its divorced couple to examine what broke them before they can hope to rebuild. Even Ali Hazelwood’s Love, Theoretically refuses to make its heroine flawless; Elsie’s ambition and duplicity force her to change before she can deserve her partner’s trust.
But it feels like in so many books, obstacles vanish without a struggle. These stories have their appeal, but to me, they’re boring AND unbelievable.
What do you think? In the romances you’ve been reading lately, do you see couples facing real barriers and overcoming them through change? Or are we drifting toward stories where love is so easy, so frictionless, that it no longer feels anything but fake?
I just finished reading the Caladan Trilogy by Brian Herbert and Kevin J Anderson. The books are a prequel to Dune. Jessica and Leto have a ton of overcoming to do to restore and hold on to their love. I have loved Dune since I first read it years ago and I thought that this trilogy was lots of fun ( and high adventure).
At the risk of sounding like a cranky old lady complaining about “kids nowadays”, maybe part of the problem is the relentless emphasis on self these days. Take care of yourself, do what’s best for you, if people distress you, cut them out of your life, etc. If you toss aside and ignore all the people or problems that might interfere with your happy ending, there’s not much for the couple to overcome.
I’ll join your cranky old lady club.
So often today, when people talk about love and what they want out of love, it’s about how it makes THEM feel. People want to been seen, understood, given to. Which is fine. But if that’s all you want, that seems like a narrow take destined to ultimately leave you alone. For me, a realer and more realistic kind of love is one in which your joy is tangled up with someone else’s well being. The act of love is looking outward rather than inward. And caring for someone else, learning to live with someone else, that’s often hard work–so worth it–but hard work. Love stories where one person is simply worshiped leave me cold.
Yes. When you love someone, you want them to be happy too. It doesn’t mean self-sacrifice and martyrdom. It means working out the balance, and yes, that can be hard.
I think the weight of the world is so heavy right now that people don’t want to cope with watching characters they like fight with it too. Also there’s very much a conflict = bad and wrong mindset with certain generations.
Lisa, I think you’ve put your finger on exactly why we have so many romances without conflict.
Then, I think of the Depression and WWII, and think, “People have always been worried,” but somehow (maybe it’s our severe political divide), the anxiety in the air is almost at choking level. Hollywood reflects this angst in the prevalence of horror or mindless comic book characters, right now. Hollywood seems incapable (or unwilling) to make a “feel good” movie.
I avoid reading and seeing TV and movies that I know will upset me. My tolerance for stress is at an all-time low. I am rereading old favorites, and not buying many new romances;.
What I think is the basic problem of so many romances now? They’re boring.
I have five young adult children and I don’t see what you’re seeing. And I didn’t see it in all the young people I worked retail with for almost 10 years until I retired. Those young adults are facing LOTS of obstacles in their lives, like not being able to afford apartments, or education, or health insurance, etc. They were almost all going to school AND working one or more jobs to support themselves, some while raising young children. They don’t have the privilege to be able to ignore the difficulties in the world.
Maybe that’s what you’re seeing the contemporary romance, but in real life young people are grappling with a very complicated world often without the benefits I had- affordable college education and rent, for two. And if they do wish for uncomplicated relationships I can’t blame them. And if they wish for uncomplicated romance books, I can’t blame them for that, either.
There are plenty of book types out there for everyone to find something they enjoy. If low-angst books are selling better, it’s probably because the world is crazy right now and stress levels are over the moon. Some people don’t want stress in their entertainment, as well. I do hope we can understand that and not judge other people by their choice of entertainment.
I think you’re exactly right. Plus, so many young people assume that the future, with global warming, is going to be unlivable.
Reading over my comments (above), I thought, “You (Lynda) don’t like books that are full of stress, but you think such books, without the stressors are boring. How can any author please you?”
“How can any author please you?”
I had to smile at that 🙂
Like I said in another comment here, I think a lot of it is down to characterisation. Complex characters with interesting inner lives can make a book with little plot or excitement work, just as characters who are too good to be true can tank one. Cat Sebstian’s recent 1960s set historicals have no plot to speak of, but are excellent reads. I just read and have written a review of KD Casey’s new release – not much plot but the character work carries the book. I just read a rom com by a British author that is genuinely funny AND romantic (so many aren’t!) that worked for me because of the characters and the humour. Some authors have the skill to be able to pull off a low-angst book, but I’m inclined to think they’re fairly small in number.
Agreed! And I look forward to reading the Casey book.
Yeah, my adult kids have a heafty dose of cynacism. None of them feel comfortable bringing kids into the world at this point.
I honestly think Caz’s point about characterization is spot on. I can handle more angsty stories if the quality of the writing in general, and of the characters in particular, has me fully engaged.
I’ve bemoaned the vogue for low-conflict/no-conflict romances in reviews for ages. One big turning point for a lot of authors was Covid – and I get it; they didn’t feel like writing ‘challenging’ stories and people didn’t feel like reading them. I get that with the world as it is now, there’s a similar feeling on both sides.
But conflict-less romances are often so DULL. As Lil says, if there’s nothing for the couple to work on or overcome, then what’s left? I just finished writing my review of the new Nicky James book (out on the 18th), A Breath of Life, and while it’s a romantic suspense novel, so there’s a mystery to be solved, the relationship development and character growth – which is ongoing throughout the series – is amazing. The couple has some serious challenges to face, but the stories never feel depressing or gloomy because the author writes the characters in such a way that even when they’re struggling a bit the readers know they’ll make it in the end. Jay Hogan’s The Meaning of You and The Question of Us, (I reviewed the latter earlier this week) feature a couple in their fifties who have a lot of baggage to deal with and who have to work really hard at making a relationship between them work.
Incidentally, all three of those books are romantic suspense titles rather than straightforward contemporary romances, but when those authors tackle CR, their characters and stories are usually more complex than the vast majority of contemporaries out there.
I don’t read and never have read much m/f contemporary romance, but from looking at book blurbs and reviews and comments around elsewhere, the same thing has happened as with m/m, in that 95% of it is mindless fluff and recycled, tired tropes – and I’m just not interested in that. Give me a romance with a decent plot and conflict that feels organic with people who have to work for their HEA, and I’ll be there like a shot.
I’m not a lover of angst, but I do like some emotional heft to my stories. I’ve enjoyed the books and authors Caz mentioned and many of the m/f authors I used to read. I want to see the couple overcome difficulties, either internal or external, and work it out to be together. I do not want what I consider needless pain and suffering inflicted on the characters. It’s why I don’t read Gregory Ashe and why I’ll probably never reread the Adrien English books by Lanyon. I hate the way he allowed Jake to treat him for most of the series. I realize many people are there for the angst, but angst for angst sake isn’t my cup of tea. It might be why I tend to really enjoy well-written romantic suspense, because the suspense plot and it’s affect on the characters can give the emotional turmoil and conflict needed to make a story interesting.
So I might be a little more tolerant of low-ish conflict stories, even if I prefer genuine emotionally challenging content. Like Peter Cabot Gets Lost, which Caz reviewed here I believe. I also enjoyed all of Rachel Reid’s hockey romances. Some of the last m/f contemporaries I enjoyed were written by Lucy Parker.
It comes down to the skill of the author in the end, doesn’t it? I continue to read Annabeth Albert’s books because while she’s gone the low-to-no angst route, her character work is so very good. Cat Sebastian’s Peter Cabot and We Could Be So Good work because of the superb characterisation. Some authors can make it work and, as you say, inject some emotional heft without needless drama, others seem to rely on trotting out the same old tropes and cardboard characters.
A lot of authors are writing low-angst romance since that sells, but conflict is so important. I will, however read both – a skilled author can sell me on anything.
If there is less of that, “internal impediment” crap, great! I MUCH prefer those who value love and grab it with both hands when available, both in fiction and real life.
Probably helps that there has never been much availability of my preferred impediment trope, (different sides) enemies-to-lovers like Shards of Honor or The Spymaster’s Lady LOL.
I love enemies to lovers. Such a fun trope.
As a reader who came to the romance genre looking for romances with humor and preferring to avoid a lot of angst, I don’t have any objections to low-conflict stories. When there is a conflict-driven plot, I much prefer external conflicts that the h/h are working together to resolve. I do expect a loving relationship story under the romance label, not just a self-centered story. I’ve seen the term “slice of life” used for some of the F&SF I read. I’m not sure if it is applicable to this discussion.
I also prefer external conflict to internal. I can enjoy an internal conflict if it isn’t two characters who start out despising each other, but who just misunderstand each other a bit (like in Julie James, It Happened One Wedding, or pretty much any Farah Rochon novel). However, I prefer to watch a relationship develop between two people who genuinely like each other and are working on taking it to the next level.
[My comment disappeared, so apologies if this is a duplicate]
I freely admit to being an angst queen, and I love stories where a couple have to overcome significant obstacles to achieve their HEA. But I also like the overcoming of obstacles to go hand-in-hand with emotional growth on the part of both MCs, so that they eventually make compromises not in a grudging way but in a joyful way because they understand this is part of being in love and being with someone forever. If the stakes are too low, I simply can’t get into the story: it feels as if there’s no real meat to sink my teeth into. To each his/her own, but give me angsty-with-a-splash-of-melancholy over easily-achieved love any day of the week.
Agreed! If there’s no emotional growth then the obstacles are just angst-for-the-sake-of-it, which isn’t what I’m looking for in a romance.
I think there’s a real difference between torment and adversity. I like a good dose of adversity in my fiction. But when it becomes torturous, I’m out.
Exactly! I love angst but I loathe melodrama. Sometimes the line between the two can be very thin—and I really appreciate writers who can tiptoe right up to that line without stepping over it (I think Caitlin Crews/Megan Crane is a great example of an author who does angst-without-melodrama beautifully). I don’t want characters to simply be tossed this way and that for the sake of the plot, I want characters to make choices based on their situations, backgrounds, experiences, and beliefs—and I want them to have enough self-awareness to understand that their choices—for better or worse—have significant consequences.
The romance I read yesterday included something I don’t particularly like: PRSD (Past Relationship Stress Disorder), a romance-genre specific version of PTSD (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder). I’m sure lots of readers have no problem with the prevalence of PRSD, but when I run into it in a nominal rom-com, I tend to see the book as one that might have benefited from severe cutting. Would you say PRSD is angst or melodrama?
I think the problem is that so many contemporary romances published now are labelled as “rom com”s when they aren’t!
Firstly, I agree with Caz, I really don’t see PTSD/PRSD as being something that can work successfully in a “rom-com”. That being said, I think the use of PTSD/PRSD (regardless of whether the book is marketed as a rom-com) requires careful handling by the author. For example, Kate Canterbary writes characters who generally have plenty of emotional baggage (from dysfunctional family upbringings, past relationships, or just life in general), but she manages to create fully-rounded characters with self-awareness and good hearts. There is humor in her work, but I wouldn’t describe them as rom-coms.
“….. but give me angsty-with-a-splash-of-melancholy over easily-achieved love any day of the week.” yes!