Why do we enjoy reading romance? Tons of reasons. Maybe some people are projecting, and like seeing characters they relate to getting the kind of love and affection they wish they had. Maybe some people like the regality of romance that modern relationships can't replicate, or watching the full scope of human emotion (it is, admittedly, a rich character move). Maybe some people generally just like watching two people fall in love, and all the things included in that.
But why do we enjoy it? What about the romance itself appeals to us? What makes us root for two people to be in love, and celebrate the satisfying conclusion of their courtship? It all relies on connection. If you do not connect with the characters or their love story, then the romance doesn't hit the way it's supposed to, and in order for the reader to connect with characters and their love story, the characters have to connect with each other and their own love story on the page.
Let me explain; if I finish a book and I honestly can't explain to someone else why two characters got together or what they saw in one another, that is not a good romance. Are they struck dumb by their partners intelligence, their kindness, their prowess on the battlefield? Do they think they're funny? Do they respect them deeply, and that metamorphosizes into love? It has to be something, and the reader has to know what that something is. If your characters cannot hold a conversation with one another — not about their allotted conflict, or a plan, but about one another — then their romance isn't going to feel genuine, or easy to celebrate. Their love story fits more into the genre of "two people who stand next to each other a lot and have sex sometimes", rather than “two people who are going to grow old together and be cremated and put in the same urn”, and that second one is, typically, what most authors should be going for.
We see this happen most often in books where the main genre isn't romance, and more so in books with snappy, fast-moving plots, because authors (and agents, honestly) cut all of the fluffy in-betweens. Some fluff has to be cut, of course — if you've ever written a book, you know some fluff always has to be cut — but cut too much and your character loses realism, heart, and resonance. Only so much love can be formed on the battlefield, my friends. Some of it’s got to happen in a ditch, tending to wounds. When authors forget that and leave out all the traveling, tending, and the like, they also end up excluding when the character’s bond really takes shape; in the softer, quieter in-betweens. I love my in-betweens.
In the book We Hunt The Flame by Hafsah Faizal — a book I really enjoyed overall, to be clear — the main relationship happens between our main character, Zafira, and a Sultan’s son, Nasir. Despite having different moral codes, Zafira and Nasir are an easy, obvious romance. You know pretty much from the second they meet that they are going to end up together in the end, and that’s fine! Nothing wrong with an easy, safe romance, only that Nasir believes that Zafira is “not like other girls”, and that’s about the only explanation he ever gives as to why he falls in love with her. Zafira gives practically nothing at all. Their love is dull and uninteresting because neither of the characters state, nor is it implied by the writing, what it is about the other that attracts them. If you had a partner and asked them “what do you like about me?” and they say “you’re different from every girl I’ve ever met” when 1) that’s technically not true and 2) they are unable to elaborate any further, you wouldn’t feel very flattered, would you? That’s what I’m getting at. A reader has to know why a romance is happening, other than because one is a boy, and the other is a girl, and they're in close proximity, so naturally their faces must be smushed together and made to kiss like barbie and ken dolls.
Skimping on this section also dampens the impact of everything else related to the relationship. Every rescue, sacrifice, and love declaration is muddied and tainted by the fact that it feels like the characters are actors who don’t actually like each other that much in real life. Skimp on the love a character feels for their partner, and suddenly the love they feel for everything else also becomes diminished, lifeless, and a caricature of an emotion. MC’s become disjointed and hard to relate to and the relationship becomes hard to root for, because why bother? You’re anticipating nothing, you’re shocked by nothing, and what’s the fun in that?
Mind you, I'm not knocking love at first sight. Though it's not my favorite trope on the face of the Earth, I have no huge issue with it. But good love at first sight tropes are amplified by something else after the fact; they fall in love upon making eye contact, and then fall deeper in love as they throw quips back and forth or risk their lives to rescue one another. Conflict is also a goldmine for evolving and improving a relationship; disagreement leaves opportunity for compromise, for stubbornness, for intelligence, for a true myriad of qualities that any person could find a way to adore, even if they’re at odds with the person with the aforementioned quality. Love at first sight and relationship conflict are not mutually exclusive, and good authors know how to maintain tension and appeal, even if they’re in love by chapter two.
Queer romance is a repeat offender of this. Part of that is because authors want to write a "queer romance", without actually writing anything particularly queer, or romantic. Remember what I said about romances that feel like "you girl, he boy, which means you must kiss"? This is the same thing, only it's "you're gay, he's gay, so obviously you two end up together", which is no better. I would actually argue it's worse.
The River Has Teeth is the antithesis of everything I'm trying to preach; not only were both of the main characters, Natasha and Della, utterly unlikeable, but there was literally no reason for the two of them to be together. Natasha and Della are at odds the entire book, arguing and keeping secrets. Della is intentionally rude to Natasha while Natasha is looking for her missing, most likely deceased, sister, and Natasha gets Della’s cousin arrested because he “looks shady”. But it’s okay because they have redeeming qualities that they like about each other, right? WRONG. Natasha and Della are always arguing, and when they’re not arguing, they’re making out. And when they’re not arguing or making out, they are existing in the SINGULAR SCENE that takes place before they begin making out. That’s impossible to enjoy, or feel particularly satisfied with. Ruinsong is another one where the main characters, Cadence and Remi, end up together at the end despite the fact that the last real conversation the two of them had, Remi accuses Cadence of being a willing participant in wide-spread torture and classism. Not exactly the peak of romance, if you ask me. Remi and Cadence don't even get together in the book! There's a time skip where it's revealed that somewhere between the last chapter and now, Remi came out to Cadence AND her family, confessed her feelings (that I still don't understand, because she really didn't seem to like Cadence much), and they kissed and became partners. What's the point of advertising your book as a queer romance if the actual queer romance part is completely blown over?
Even the simplest, coziest of romances know to give a reason for a couple to like one another. Even if that reason is beauty, which is not my favorite reason, I’ll admit, but it is still a reason! It doesn’t have to be the craziest love story to ever exist, it doesn’t even have to have conflict! But how do you genuinely create a relationship where I cannot tell why they love each other? Or even like each other! I’m not trying to tell you how to write a story, or how to organize a romance, because I genuinely don’t know how I would do that other than “make sure they would reasonably like each other”, and that sounds douchey. This is more of a rant on my part, than anything intellectual. Sorry for that. It just drives me nuts.
The moral of the story is that if you're going to write a romance, write the romance. Be cringe. Be sappy. Commit to the rom or stick to the com. It's Pride Month, for crying out loud, don't make me read a book that's advertised as queer romance only to deprive me of queer romance. That's all. Bye Bye!
