Why I Read Romance

I think I read my first romance novel when I was in elementary school. It was probably a Grace Livingston Hill novel, most likely one about a family living in a barn. I know that plot summary sounds the opposite of romantic, but at the time, it was one of the best things I had ever read. The details are a little vague, but I remember reading as many Grace Livingston Hill novels as I could and then swapping them with my cousin and my next-door neighbor.

I know I wrote my first romance in elementary school. Of course, it featured a prince and princess. I remember writing in pencil and then tracing over the words in pen to make it permanent, and then using three staples to make it an actual book. It was illustrated (not well) and my focus was more on making sure the ball gowns had miles of lace and ruffles, and less on making sure that hands had fingers. The plot was, to say the least, weak.

I always knew I was in love with romance. I read every new book until I reached the end and got to the part that gave me a “happy book sigh.” And my favorites, those were the ones I reread over and over. I found the Grace Livingston Hill barn romance, “The Enchanted Barn,” a few years ago on Librivox and listened to it on my commute. The story line didn’t hold up necessarily, but something about it combined with the reader’s broad Maine accent immediately transported me to my 1980s bedroom. I was home.

That, to me, is one of the beauties of romance, that transporting to another time and place.

I know romance has the reputation of being predictable. After all, the hero and heroine always end up together. What else could possibly happen? For some, that pattern makes it silly. Not to me. For me, there’s nothing silly about the process of moving toward one another. There’s nothing predictable about the ways our histories, our pain, and our vulnerabilities connect with another person’s.

Instead, there is something beautiful about finding a person who sees your history, understands it, and chooses to walk with you. There’s something absolutely astounding about the fact that we can know each other, what makes us tick, where we’re likely to fail, and instead of using that knowledge to our advantage, using it to support another person. Maybe romance ends with two people together, but the way they get together is unique and interesting.

That’s why I read romance.