The Magic of the Romance Genre...

I want to take a moment to acknowledge that there are a lot of people in the romance world who are feeling hurt and scared and discouraged right now. And when you feel hurt and scared and discouraged about really, really big issues—inclusivity, abortion rights, the climate crisis, healthcare access, foreign policy, etc.—it can be easy to feel like romance novels might be a little, well...silly. I mean, why does romance matter, really, in the grand scheme of things? It's just a silly little escape, right? A way to shut out the big, bad reality that's always breathing down our necks.

Uh-uh. Nope. I don't buy it.

First of all, even if romance was simply a way for women to claim ten freaking minutes for themselves, that is worthy. Women deserve to take time for their own enjoyment. Mic drop. Boom. The end. In a world where we are constantly being pulled in so many directions—family, work, school, home, volunteering, etc.—taking time to simply enjoy ourselves is a radical act. Embrace that.

However...I would also like to suggest that indulging in fantasy—stepping back and asking "What would I like the world to look like?"—is the universal first step of magic. If you study magical ritual, it always starts by envisioning what you want. If someone wants to break the connection they feel with another person because it's no longer healthy, they do a cord cutting ritual and picture the tie between them and the other person physically breaking. If someone is trying to manifest something, they repeatedly envision it and meditate on it. When I started writing again in 2020 and made a goal of writing a novel, I wrote down "I'm going to write a book" on a slip of paper, and every night I took that piece of paper out, looked at the words, and said them out loud until I believed them.

In other words, if you can't see something—if you can't feel and hear and taste it—it's almost impossible to create it. So, women taking the time to write and read stories that explore people in healthy, happy, sexually satisfying relationships is, first and foremost, just plain fun. But I would argue that it's also the first step in creating healthier, happier, more sexually satisfying relationships.

Isn't that magical?

Look, am I saying that if we all join hands and do the right chant that we're going to manifest a bunch of random, flannel-clad Christmas tree farmers with six-packs and a cuddle fetish? No. Obviously. What I am saying is that when I read romance, I see a lot of things women want. Women want to feel wanted. Women want to feel seen and loved for the messy, complex people they are. Women want to feel respected. Women want to know that consent is important to their partners. Women want to feel safe. Women want partners who protect them...but who also recognize their bad-ass side. Women want partners with tentacles that have evolved over millennia to deliver ultimate pleasure and—ok, just kidding. But women do want to feel sexually satisfied, and we're navigating that in a society that has historically prioritized and centered male pleasure.

And all this wanting is important because wanting something is always, always the first step of magic.

Now, are some of the particulars of the romance genre kind of out there? (Looking at you, tentacle kink.) Sure. But the deep desires that have driven this genre for decades--love, respect, sexual satisfaction, and fun--are things that we should want. Those are things that we deserve.

And we're never going to get there if we can't even picture it.

So, when it feels like the world is on the verge of turning into a giant dumpster fire, are romance novels a big ole waste of time? Hell no! Romance keeps us joyful. (And joy, by the way, is a really important part of avoiding burn out and being able to sustain ourselves through stressful times.) Romance helps us dream. It's a vehicle for exploring and communicating what we want the world—and our relationships—to look like.

In short, Romance is magic.