KRISTOPHER NGUYEN

Contemporary romance is defined by romantic writing that takes aspects of the present. Like the romance of many other eras before, contemporary romance follows a formulaic set of tropes. These tropes allow the romance genre to be reproduced in a distinct but comparable manner. According to Wood, the mass market’s iteration of American love includes “physical tension, jealous episodes, tortured attempts at resolution, and breathless outcomes” as part of its reproducible script (Wood 372). However, the appearance of LGBTQ+ characters in contemporary romance novels deviates from these formulaic rules in the sense that they introduce new challenges by replacing the “base” relationship. The “base” refers to the main romantic couple, which if changed, can include unique issues and characterization as a result. The change in this “base” inadvertently changes the “rules” enough so the story is completely unique through the addition of struggles only found within the LGBTQ+ scene. Although the contemporary romance market is still facing problems such as the censorship and banning of LGBTQ+ literature, this change has caught the eyes of many people over the years, as represented through Casey McQuiston’s Red, White & Royal Blue. The changing aspects of both contemporary romance and LGBTQ+ literature reveal a willing openness within the publishing industry towards the expansion of this specific genre to reach out to queer audiences and authors.

The inclusion of romance outside of heterosexuality is vital to contemporary literature, especially with a much more open-minded audience in modern times. Early romance “saw heterosexual white women defying social norms, overcoming personal struggles, and finding happiness, a theme that has continued today with much more diversity,” dating as far back as 1740 with the example of Pamela/Virtue Rewarded by Samual Richardson (Cameron 2). This reveals that romance, even in 1740, dabbled in the struggles of oppressed groups, depicting them fighting their personal battles until they reached their happy ending. Schwab talks about how the era of the Cold War—around the 1960s—brought about a lot of negativities within LGBTQ+ literature such as feelings of shame, self-loathing, and the appearance of suicide, which reflects what the community had undergone during that era. In fact, there was even an event called the “Lavender Scare” which was, as Schwab puts it, “a mass witch hunt of ‘sexual deviants’” in which individuals suspected to be queer were subjected to mass dismissals of their titles and jobs for being threats to national security” (251). The “rule” of defying social norms seemed to be out of reach as the writers themselves felt as if they were unable to do so, resulting in the negativities found within these older writings. It is reasonable to claim that this history and its depressive nature leaked into early LGBTQ+ romantic literature, with it essentially becoming a core piece of what makes queer romance unique in comparison to traditional romance in the following years.

To showcase and incorporate these claims and ideas, Casey McQuiston’s Red, White & Royal Blue, a romance novel published in 2019, serves as a good example for multiple reasons. Firstly, there is a major obstacle that threatens the main couple’s reputation near the end of the book, when the relationship between Alex and Henry is leaked to the public (McQuiston 328). As they are both characters in a position of power, the exposure threatens their very future. This bears relevancy since it was a mere reveal of their affairs to the public that invokes shock in their characters, especially towards Alex as it is described that, “for five hours he doesn’t shower, or change his clothes or laugh or smile or cry” (McQuiston 331). Much like LGBTQ+ literature in the 1960s, this description reiterates the same feeling of despair and alienation in that people could not let others know who they truly were due to fear of a negative response. Despite the leak, the main romantic couple strays away from the pathway of negativity and instead reaffirms their relationship and holds their ground as seen when Henry proclaims, “I won’t lie. Not about this. Not about you” (McQuiston 338).

Secondly, there are cases where rules such as “jealous episodes” do not hold much presence. The only time a “jealous episode” occurs is when Alex kisses Nora during a New Year’s party in front of Henry, which results in Henry disappearing into the garden, despite the initial kiss not really having any value (McQuiston 103-104). When Alex does find Henry, he becomes more emotional and personal with him by bringing up topics such as being a “normal bloke” and dating, eventually resulting in a very rushed kiss with Alex (McQuiston 105-108). This is a major point in the story because the author fakes a “jealous episode” to build and reinforce the idea of being able to be who you are without being restricted (in this case, by the public eye). It also brings up the feeling of alienation through means of publicity and how it could possibly affect Henry’s status as a prince due to his hidden homosexuality. This ultimately serves as an example of self-recognition, which is important within LGBTQ+ literature, especially when combined with the contemporary romance genre.

However, despite McQuiston’s manipulation of “jealous episodes” to create unique themes and characterization, the book also uses some rules that make it stay rather “traditional.” Using Wood’s basis of rules within the romance genre, the book contains “physical tensions” as Alex gets physically intimate with Henry in a hotel room and “lets Henry undress him carefully,” with Henry also kissing Alex’s mouth “over and over again,” only to be interrupted by the unexpected presence of Zahra (McQuiston 228-230). The rule of “tortured attempts at resolution” can be found on pages 272 to 275 with an argument between the two lovers that turns into a sort of “resolution” via sexual activity. Though, this usage of traditional rules ends up working because by combining the context of the depressing past of LGBTQ+ literature with the openly queer themes found in Casey McQuiston’s Red, White & Royal Blue, the narrative takes the oppressive history of the past but the openness of the present, ultimately allowing for the deviation from the “formula” through its focus on the relationship, showcasing the existence of similar yet different challenges through LGBTQ+ contemporary romance in comparison to preexisting notions of romance.

LGBTQ+ literature has found itself to be increasingly more recognized over the years, bringing awareness to the genre along with it. An example of this can be seen through the influence of technology, more specifically, social media. As Schwab states, “Thanks specifically to TikTok, we are seeing backlist titles gain newfound traction as they reach new audiences…The Song of Achilles (Ecco 2012), found its way back onto the New York Times bestseller list in both 2021 and 2022, a decade after its initial release” (Schwab 260). For context, the book is an iteration of the Trojan War but also contains an iteration relationship between Achilles and Patroclus as well, with its queer themes represented through such. To paraphrase a strong example, Thetis is a character that absolutely loathes Patroclus’ relationship with her son, Achilles, and tries to break this relationship up through methods like cheating and threats. However, by the end when both Patroclus and Achilles are dead, Thetis visits her son’s grave where Patroclus’ soul still lingers as he is unable to pass on; the two talk about their memories of Achilles which eventually gets Thetis to recognize the romantic relationship by saying that Patroclus ultimately “made him,” allowing Patroclus to move onwards to the underworld where Achilles is, reuniting the two even in death (Miller 270-271). Although published in 2012, The Song of Achilles has found itself to be consecutively surrounded by success in 2021 and 2022, further proving that LGBTQ+ literature, especially pieces written with strong romantic themes, is finding more recognition in recent years. Even Red, White, & Royal Blue managed to get a film adaptation in 2023 due to the popularity and success of the book in 2019. These two novels are years apart in publishing yet they showcase these romantic queer themes that gain massive success and attention. Another example of growing recognition is shown through the positive studies of book exposure. The Human Rights Campaign (2012) states that the younger generation showed a heavy amount of acceptance and affirmation compared to older generations, though still bearing a significant negative response via parental rejection (McCormick and Baldridge 32-33). There have even been talks and research—in this case, in 2022—to circumvent the issue through “bibliotherapy,” where exposure to queer topics via books increases acceptance among not only parents but children as well (Rozalski et al 161-162). With growing recognition and positive reception, these studies only help add reasons as to why this side of the market should be more involved with the publishing industry.

All of this is to say that with growing awareness and support for the LGBTQ+ community and their literature comes the willingness of the publishing industry to enable more of these books to be churned out. The basis of the publishing industry revolves around money, so much so that Sinykin points it out early within the introduction of “Big Fiction,” in which he claims that publishers “know that readers pay attention to a book’s cover so they invest in its design and emblazon it with what they want everyone to see: the title and the name of the author” (Sinykin 3). This comes full circle with LGBTQ+ history in the 1960s, as being outed as something not hetero was enough to have people lose their jobs and become alienated as seen with the “Lavender Scare.” This becomes more of a reason for the publishing industry not to take an interest in such a specific genre of writing as it would not generate as much profit. However, as seen with Red, White & Royal Blue, LGBTQ+ contemporary romance has risen above and has managed to gain positive reception and popularity. This serves as an incentive for the publishing industry to invest in the genre, further increasing awareness and support for not only the genre but for the community as well.

It could then be said that the LGBTQ+ community finds itself concerned with representation and the relationships that may come with it. By combining older issues and feelings with the growing acceptance and recognition in modern times, contemporary romance can be differentiated through its portrayal of the status quo between the two main romantic partners and the introduction of challenges unique to the community. Early romances were usually standard in that they were replicable in the sense that anyone could refer to a specific “ruleset” to craft their own story. In contrast, the lack of awareness from the public and core differences brought about by fear and alienation found itself slowly assimilating into the broad genre of romance, resulting in a more specific subgenre of romantic literature that enables others outside of the LGBTQ+ community to interact with the feelings and themes represented in the literature. In recent years, positive reception and appreciation for this type of literature has increased heavily, as well as growing awareness and support for the community itself. As a result, LGBTQ+ books are not only written more often but written with narratives outside of what was once expected and published with more acceptance and embracement from the publishing industry. One could argue that this is not done in good faith due to the main motivation being that of monetary gain and perhaps because the publishing industry was not so open-minded in earlier years. Whether it’s in good faith or not, it is still an important step in the overall acceptance and inclusion of a community within the literature and publishing side of things.

Works Cited

Cameron, Lauren. “The Romance Publishing Industry and Its Reputation.” Publishing Research Quarterly, vol. 36, no. 1, Mar. 2020, pp. 1–16. EBSCOhost, https://doi.org/10.1007/s12109-019-09703-2.

McCormick, Adam, and Stephen Baldridge. “Family Acceptance and Faith: Understanding the Acceptance Processes of Parents of LGBTQ Youth.” Social Work & Christianity, vol. 46, no. 1, Jan. 2019, pp. 32–40. EBSCOhost, research.ebsco.com/linkprocessor/plink?id=193ec643-4e36-37c4-8bf2-8704bc6db4df.

Miller, Madeline. The Song of Achilles. Ecco Press, 2011.

McQuiston, Casey. Red, White, & Royal Blue. New York, St. Martin’s Publishing Group, 2019.

Rozalski, Michael, et al. “Bibliotherapy: Using Books to Promote Awareness and Acceptance of the LGBTQ+ Community.” Kappa Delta Pi Record, vol. 58, no. 4, Jan. 2022, pp. 160–65. EBSCOhost, research.ebsco.com/linkprocessor/plink?id=b32e1ec6-e77f-34da-8163-62e6cc590e0e.

Schwab, Katie. “Publishing Queer Literature: A Comparison Between the Adult and Young Adult Markets from the Cold War to Present Day.” Publishing Research Quarterly, vol. 39, no. 3, Sept. 2023, pp. 249–62. EBSCOhost, https://doi.org/10.1007/s12109-023-09959-9.

Sinykin, Dan. Big Fiction: How Conglomeration Changed the Publishing Industry and American Literature. New York, Columbia University Press, 2023.

Wood, Christine V. “Tender Heroes and Twilight Lovers: Re-Reading the Romance in Mass-Market Pulp Novels, 1950–1965.” Journal of Lesbian Studies, vol. 18, no. 4, Oct. 2014, pp. 372–92. EBSCOhost, https://doi.org/10.1080/10894160.2014.901846.