As we careen towards the end of 2023, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about my reading life. Writing this newsletter has made me reflect on what makes my readerly heart beat a little faster, especially as I begin to compile my best of 2023 list. (When I’m not frantically trying to catch up with my 2023 anticipated releases before the end of the year.) I’ve also been thinking about what doesn’t work for me and while I was compiling my November reading recap last week, I had a small reading revelation.
Especially in romance, I struggle with books that give their main characters a Big Tragic Thing in their past and then just…zip past it? It doesn’t even have to be a Big Tragic Thing. It can be a more everyday heartbreak, like the slow-creeping realization that a long-held dream no longer fits or the people who deeply love our protagonist and misunderstand them anyway. These moments of big, full-throated emotion are the spots where I find myself willing the book to let itself breathe, to allow me to sit alongside the characters and feel with them for a while. Whatever happens, I need to let the impact of it resonate through me. And most of the books I loved this year, romance and non-romance, do that. Huge things don’t necessarily happen in these books but they feel huge to these characters and the narrative honors that fact.
This doesn’t necessarily mean that the tone is straightforwardly somber. A book can be funny and lively and joyful and still deeply felt. In fact, in the case of romance and its promised HEA, I would argue that letting those dark moments have their proper amount of page time makes that joy feel more real. If I’ve mourned and celebrated alongside these characters, gotten to live with them for the span of a few hundred pages, that makes for a richer, more grounded reading experience.
I’m also just interested in how we as humans process our emotions and relationships. If you’ve been reading this newsletter for a while, you’ve probably seen how I appreciate a good, juicy “let’s talk everything through” scene before the main characters fall back into each other’s arms in a romance. (Ship Wrecked by Olivia Dade has an excellent one.) One of the reasons that I love romance so much is that it offers the opportunity to think through all kinds of relationships. My favorite romances examine not just the romantic relationship between the protagonists but their relationships with their family, friends, and themselves. One of my favorite subplots in Kate Clayborn’s exquisite Love Lettering is heroine Meg’s crumbling friendship with her longtime best friend Sibby and how they rebuild it. And in order to make that happen, sometimes we need to wallow a little bit. We need an extra twenty or forty pages to tease out all the intriguing plot threads and give the big conversations the time to veer off track and wrest themselves back again, as big conversations tend to do.
I suppose the thing I’m arguing for is more leisurely pacing, or more intricate writing, in an age when everything can feel breakneck. But I love to linger—over a painting, over a view, over a particularly lovely sentence—and I’d like to linger in those achingly real moments with some of my favorite characters for a little while longer.
Currently reading: The Trio by Johanna Hedman, which I saw recommended by both Sara at FictionMatters and Michelle at Literary Leanings and promises a thoughtful look at how people’s lives intersect and leave their mark on one another. And, like many a bookish individual, I’m always weak for a Normal People comparison.
What’s bringing me joy lately:
Stereophonic at Playwrights Horizons, one of my favorite nights at the theater this year. It follows a fictional 70’s rock band working on an album that might destroy them and might also be a masterpiece and the more I think about it, the more layers I find to enjoy. (I’m not so patiently waiting for the script to be published so I can indulge my inner theater nerd.)
It feels odd to say that this brought me joy, but Todd Haynes’ May December on Netflix features some stupendous filmmaking and an astonishing performance from Charles Melton, who I am now wholeheartedly rooting for to win an Oscar.
The best meeting with my writing group, including a cookie swap, some goal setting, and the motivation I need to dive back into revising a very messy first draft of book 2.
Looking forward to hearing what you think of The Trio ☺️