what is there to talk about in a romance book club

[my mother asks]

Mar 14, 2025

sigh

in my line of work (which is to say, none), people are always asking if I’d ever consider reading something other than romance books. novels. fantasy, literary fiction, etc. I take this as code for would you ever consider self-help books? and with all the love in my heart, the answer is no.

which pains me, because my grandmother (shoutout Sofia Buzali) is an author—a biographical author, to be precise. is that how one calls it? she writes about powerful women who have inspired her and, after exhaustive research, creates these intricately woven stories. masterpieces, really.

my mother, on the other hand, reads Shakespeare and whatnot, so every time I show up to a family gathering with yet another physical book copy [coughs, Emily Henry’s latest release], the lecture is the same: why don’t you read Hamnet??? what about Pedro Páramo!! that’s sort of fantasy!!

is it? I ask myself.

and when I decided to start this book club—(not to boost my ego, but people are always asking me for book recommendations when they’re in a slump or just want to get back into reading)—I figured, why not? I always have the perfect book for the perfect mood, the perfect setting, the perfect existential crisis. so why not make it official?

Goodreads!

but when I explained this to my mother, clarifying that this would be a romance-meets-fantasy-meets-contemporary-meets-lit-fic book club, she asked, and what is there to talk about? what can you even discuss about a single dad falling in love with his child’s nanny? about a bad boy and good girl? (worst trope ever, by the way.)

and mother, this one’s for you.

the thing about romance books is that they’re not just romance books. people love to diminish them to fluffy love stories, when in reality, they’re cultural artifacts. they’re studies on human connection. they’re stories about desire, ambition, grief, self-discovery, family, and the way love—romantic or not—shapes people.

let’s take the single dad x nanny book, for example. on the surface, sure, it’s about a hot widowed father falling for the woman taking care of his precocious child. but in between the flirting and the tension and the inevitable oh no, we shouldn’t but we will moment, there’s usually an exploration of loss. rebuilding. second chances. and what it means to love again after thinking you never could.

same with bad boy x good girl (again, objectively the worst trope, but still). beneath the brooding and the inevitable he only softens for her dynamic, there’s often a deeper conversation about expectations, rebellion, and whether or not people really change. sometimes, it’s about breaking generational cycles. sometimes, it’s just about how being an emotionally unavailable man should be a federal offense.

and fantasy? oh god. don’t even get me started. entire civilizations have been built off a woman falling in love with an immortal being. does he have wings? a sword? a tragic backstory? a mating bond? we’ll talk about it. extensively.

questions to ask, for example!

what’s the main conflict, and does it actually make sense, or was it one miscommunication away from being resolved in chapter three?
is the love interest hot, or are we just easily impressed by a man who communicates?
on a scale of mild yearning to i will set myself on fire if they don’t end up together, how strong was the tension?
were the spice scenes giving? or was it just and then they did it?
did the protagonist have a personality, or was she just a girl who reads? (oh and why did I take it personally!?!?)
was the third-act breakup necessary, or did it feel like the author panicked because the book was wrapping up too quickly?
if this book had a soundtrack, what would it be?
and, of course, the most important question of all: do we forgive him?

did you know!!!!!

people who read romance books are more likely to have a better relationship with their partners?

actually, I just made that up. but I give pretty solid advice thanks to some books I’ve read.

okay but that stat should be real. because if there's one thing romance books have taught me, it's emotional intelligence (and that every man should be groveling at least once in his life). oh, and grammar. as a spanish-speaking woman in the 21st century.

but really, the best part of discussing romance books isn’t just breaking down the tropes or debating if the third-act breakup was justified—it’s the way they make us think about our own relationships, our own desires, our own standards.

victoria ratliff reading this week’s book pick — max

like, why do we all love the grumpy x sunshine dynamic so much? is it because we secretly believe in our ability to fix emotionally unavailable men, or is it just fun watching someone with a personality disorder slowly fall in love?

why do we forgive certain love interests for their toxic behavior (coughs Rhysand coughs), but others get dragged for being the bare minimum? what makes a good romance book vs. one that makes us want to throw it across the room?

and most importantly, how many of these men would actually survive in real life before getting ghosted?

so yes, mother. there is plenty to talk about.