Welcome to the Women’s Fiction Chapter of Romance Writers of America! We are so pleased to finally be creating this networking and support group for writers who are fascinated by the various ways a romantic novel can explore the issues, challenges, and stages of a woman’s life. We are all romantics at heart, and as such, many of us are or have long been romance readers and writers. It’s safe to say that without RWA and the explosion in popularity of romance novels that gave so many, many, many women a chance to write commercial novels about the things we care about, women’s fiction as a genre would not exist.
Admittedly, there is confusion about where the line is between the two genres–in the press and review community, among publishers and editors, and among ourselves. It took quite a lot of discussion for us to agree on a definition that would be inclusive, but also allow us a chance to clearly define the kind of books we love to read and write.
As a romance writer who began writing women’s fiction nine years ago, I’m often pressed to define the difference for reporters or bloggers or book clubs. It is not as complicated as you might imagine. Romance novels are always, always, always about a woman finding and forming a bond with her mate. Women’s fiction is often also partially about forming a bond, but there is a larger question she must solve, too. It is the resolution of that question that will bring about her happy ending. In younger women’s fiction, that quest might be to find her place in the world, or to find a balance between work and family. In midlife books, there is often a loss–children growing up, a marriage breaking down, or the death of a friend–that forces a reckoning with redefining identity. In books about older women, there might be issues of reconciliation. There are usually relationship issues with children, siblings, parents, even animals, and those need to be resolved for the protagonist to take the next healthy steps in her life.
Roughly. The truth is, women’s fiction is often more easily defined by what it isn’t. These are not easily books–which, for most of us, is a huge part of the appeal. There is freedom to play more with styles or themes or voice. We might tackle social issues or character history or any number of other things that would overwhelm the basic promise of a romance novel, which is that it will be a safe place to escape, even if the world around you is falling apart. Women’s fiction doesn’t make that promise. Sometimes, we know, children do not survive an illness. Sometimes, a marriage cannot be healed. Sometimes, people make terrible decisions and then have to live with the consequences.
After writing 27 contemporary and historical romances, I migrated to women’s fiction for several reasons. I needed a bigger canvas for the cultural and social questions that fascinate me. I wanted to write more about how work matters to women’s lives. And frankly, I needed to write about people with a little more wear and tear than a classic romance structure would allow–to write about women who didn’t skate through their youths without having an encounter with tequila shots or a really bad relationship or too many lovers.
But I also knew what I didn’t want. I didn’t want to give up the exploration of love and sex and the power of finding a partner, a witness to make our lives better. It’s big stuff–and it’s fun to write about. I also had no desire to false tragedy, ala Nicholas Sparks. As a spiritual person, I believe an uplifting ending has the power to offer a person a chance to keep going for another day.
In women’s fiction, I can have my cake and eat it, too. And although we come to women’s fiction from many directions, we share this vision. The promise we offer in romantic women’s fiction, as opposed to mainstream women’s fiction, is the possibility of healing. Hope. The promise that people can triumph over even very challenging odds. We promise an upbeat ending, a chance (or a second chance, or even a third chance) at love with a true partner. Sarah Addison Allen’s work is magic realism with happy endings (she is the happy version of Alice Hoffman). That makes her one of us. Kristin Hannah, on the other hand, wrote many titles of women’s fiction (and in fact won a RITA for Best Novel With Romantic Elements), but crossed into mainstream fiction with her more recent books, beginning with Firefly Lane. Jodi Picoult is mainsteam women’s fiction all the way, and there are never any happy endings guaranteed there.
I don’t pretend to have all of the answers. Ours is an exciting arena, one that is expanding and changing in form as we each bring out own particular voices and talents to it. One thing our chapter will do is give us a chance to talk among ourselves, offer insights and experiences and a helping hand, and help find and recruit every single reader who is looking for what we write. We can define for ourselves what we’re doing here.
Welcome!
Barbara Samuel O’Neal
[...] there’s any doubt that Barbara Samuel O’Neal is not perfect for this position, please read her welcome letter. You’ll see what I [...]
I so appreciate your definition of romantic women’s fiction, Ms. O’Neal, as I recently began to feel like perhaps I didn’t belong in RWA. I joined TARA (TampaAreaRomance Authors) in 2004 while living in Florida. It is a wonderful group of talented writers and I learned so much as a member. However, I gradually began to feel a bit like a fish out of water as I realized I didn’t really write romance the way my sister members did. Happily, I found this chapter after moving to France and seeking an Internet chapter.
No longer that flapping fish, I think this is where I belong. Thanks for making me feel so welcome. Anne