People often criticize the Romance fiction genre for being formulaic — containing conventions that can make stories predictable — but the truth is it’s not just Romance titles that possess this problem. The majority of what we read and watch also follows built upon a formula. I’m not just talking about the three-part structure of movies and books (inciting incident, rising action, and climax). Believe it or not, there is a common template that almost all stories are built around called the monomyth or hero’s journey, which I plan to discuss in another post.

Screenwriter Robert McKee defends movies’ formula in his seminal book Story: Substance, Structure, Style, and the Principles of Screenwriting. Rather than hindering creativity, McKee contends, rules and formulas instead, perhaps paradoxically, unleash it. McKee offers a quote by poet and playwright T.S. Eliot showing this debate has been around for some time:

The idea is that without a framework, writers have so many options that making a decision can be a bit overwhelming. Interestingly, economists have observed the same effect in commerce, where they’ve dubbed it the paradox of choice. The crux of it is, we assume choice is a good thing (and of course it is) but when there are too many of them, more than our brains are able to process, people refrain from making a decision at all.

A common framework and unifying story template are similarities that enhance the stories we tell. There are other similarities between stories that have a diminishing effect, however. I’m talking about clichés or tropes that have been overdone. These are ideas that were good at one point and had an essence of truth (the female protagonist’s gay male best friend) but in their repetition became defining and limiting to the group being depicted. It’s as if use of the cliché was tantamount to endorsement that that’s all gay characters were good for: they couldn’t be the star or god forbid, villain. They couldn’t be depicted as real people.

The big problem with clichés though, is that the audience wants to be challenged and surprised. The audience expects cliche’s, and is happy when one is subverted. Even if a cliche is based on an objective truth, then the reader or viewer might as well be watching Dateline or reading the newspaper. Whether it’s writing or filmmaking, the reader/viewer wants to be surprised with new ideas. Originality is paramount, not necessarily of the form the project takes, but of the ideas it contains. When it comes to the romance fiction genre, there is a constant battle being waged between cliche’s that make it a romance and cliche’s that hace been overdone. Subvert those cliche’s while maintaining the overall romance form, and you will delight your fans.

The following list is a matter of taste and opinion, of course. One person’s cliché is another’s warm, comfortable blanket of familiarity.

• the mousey girl (or boy) in need of a makeover;
• the billionaire bachelor who can’t find a woman who’s “real”;
• a hero or heroine who’s “perfect” (which comes across as two-dimensional);
• the “evil” other woman (two-dimensional again, and sexist);
• the universally disliked love interest whose pain or sadness underneath the facade can only be seen by the heroine (no, sweetheart, he’s abusive and you’re codependent);
• the dying hero or heroine; and
• basically anything from a Disney princess movie.

There is one cliché that Romance readers (and most writers) insist upon, however, and it is a simple one: every romance must end with an HEA (Happily Ever After). Or, as the Romance Writers of America states, every Romance must have “an emotionally satisfying and optimistic ending.” This wording has added some wiggle room to how one interprets a happy ending, such that today, the more realistic HFN (Happy for Now) will suffice. Anything can happen after the last page has been read.

The HEA/HFN rule has been the subject of endless debates in online forums, and continues to be contested regularly. But it’s less a question of a cliché that should be avoided than one of what genre of book it is. Writers who want their story to have a “realistic” (i.e. depressing) ending have a very easy solution: don’t call it a Romance. How about Contemporary Fiction or some other genre? Just not Romance. This does not seem to be as difficult a quandary as many people make it out to be. And in any event, since Romance readers demand a happy ending, why piss off your core audience? They’re a fiercely loyal fan base, and a good group of readers to have on your side.

For those non-writers criticizing the Romance genre’s happy ending precondition, please note that Romance readers and writers simply don’t care much what you think. They have little patience with critics of their chosen genre, and, truth be told, have little need for them, either. The Romance industry is booming. It’s the most popular genre in self-publishing, with a billion dollars in sales a year.

Plus, let’s just admit it: tropes or not, Romance stories work on an emotional level. The predictability of the outcome of most Romance stories is kind of the point, too. Readers choose these titles to escape, not to be challenged or surprised. In today’s world, as we continue to cope with the COVID-19 pandemic, systemic racism in our justice system, devastating wild fires, and a divisive Presidential election, a vicarious “happily ever after” sounds like something from which most of us would benefit.