What was the golden age of romance? For some, it’s the 1980s and 1990s—the era of Judith McNaught, Julie Garwood, and Lisa Kleypas, when paperbacks ruled the checkout aisle and nobody apologized for a happy ending. Those books were big, emotional, and often hilariously–at least in retrospect–sincere. Heroines had jobs, men had feelings, and everyone had good–and big–hair. 

Others reach back to the 1970s, when popular romance first caught fire. The Flame and the Flower and Sweet Savage Love weren’t subtle, but they were new—it was exhilarating to read books that put women’s desire at the center of the story. The writing was rough, the gender politics rougher, but for many readers–and I am one–it was thrilling time to be a romance reader.

And then there’s now. Romance today is wide open—funny, queer, diverse, and often angry. For readers who’ve never seen themselves on the page until now, this feels like the moment when the genre finally grew up. There’s literally a story for everyone–some of which still gives me pause–and it’s easy to read only what works for you.

Do any of these eras trump the others? Or are we in the enviable position of having three golden ages—and no wrong answer at all? Do you have a fave and, if so, why?