I love romance novels (Emily Henry and Kinsella in particular), and I’ve never met a fellow romance reader who earnestly believes the romances in those books are how actual romance plays out, nor do I believe that myself. People get so frustrated at the left for attacking everything that’s not meant to be taken seriously, and yet more and more I’m seeing the same kind of overly reactionary attacks from people on the right. Chick lit and romance novels aren’t meant to be poignant guides on how to live one’s life—they’re fluffy escapism, and they’re just meant to be fun. Why can’t people enjoy things? 🤷🏻♀️
I was reading one of those types of books recently (with the Libby app, I can try them for free) and thought, “These women are all the same.” She’s in her late twenties to early thirties. She’s kind of average looking, but adored by at least one man. There will have been several lovers already, and this will in no way make her less attractive to the subsequent men. She has a “great” job, or she will by the end of the book. She has no religion (if she’s British, she’ll love Christmas as chance to wear pajamas, watch movies and have drinks all day). She’ll be furnished with a best friend who encourages her to “get some” with her hot guy. If living, her parents are either narcissistic old children, or sweeties who make few demands for responsibility. Her dream will be to travel, because that’s what makes life exciting. Their will be a nice gay character (who may be the only married peer). Children play no part in her life plans as yet. She may not even be
Growing up I always thought that becoming an adult woman would mean that I would just start to enjoy these "sexy" chick lit style books. It never happened. I tried reading one a year or so ago, and I was disgusted. Why would I need to read about someone's miserable life that can only be fixed with vacation and "fabulous sex with a stranger" when I have an incredible husband and life? They miss the mark on happiness and fulfillment to the point of it being almost comical to read, if I didn't know that these authors, unfortunately, genuinely believe these things.
I love romance novels (Emily Henry and Kinsella in particular), and I’ve never met a fellow romance reader who earnestly believes the romances in those books are how actual romance plays out, nor do I believe that myself. People get so frustrated at the left for attacking everything that’s not meant to be taken seriously, and yet more and more I’m seeing the same kind of overly reactionary attacks from people on the right. Chick lit and romance novels aren’t meant to be poignant guides on how to live one’s life—they’re fluffy escapism, and they’re just meant to be fun. Why can’t people enjoy things? 🤷🏻♀️
Sorry I hit “post” too soon. I was going to say they may not even be married at the end of the story.
I was reading one of those types of books recently (with the Libby app, I can try them for free) and thought, “These women are all the same.” She’s in her late twenties to early thirties. She’s kind of average looking, but adored by at least one man. There will have been several lovers already, and this will in no way make her less attractive to the subsequent men. She has a “great” job, or she will by the end of the book. She has no religion (if she’s British, she’ll love Christmas as chance to wear pajamas, watch movies and have drinks all day). She’ll be furnished with a best friend who encourages her to “get some” with her hot guy. If living, her parents are either narcissistic old children, or sweeties who make few demands for responsibility. Her dream will be to travel, because that’s what makes life exciting. Their will be a nice gay character (who may be the only married peer). Children play no part in her life plans as yet. She may not even be
Growing up I always thought that becoming an adult woman would mean that I would just start to enjoy these "sexy" chick lit style books. It never happened. I tried reading one a year or so ago, and I was disgusted. Why would I need to read about someone's miserable life that can only be fixed with vacation and "fabulous sex with a stranger" when I have an incredible husband and life? They miss the mark on happiness and fulfillment to the point of it being almost comical to read, if I didn't know that these authors, unfortunately, genuinely believe these things.