October 19, 2026
In Defense of Romance (A Genre Uniquely Set Apart)

 “What are you reading?”

 You shudder. 

 The question itself isn’t so bad. You’re reading a book, and at that, it’s a book you enjoy, with positive themes that spark your interest. Still, you hesitate, because if you keep talking, you know you’ll say that word, the one that leads to a look of false understanding and an unspoken judgment:

 Romance.

 But here’s why you don’t need to be ashamed about that romance novel you’re reading.

  In literary discussion, we’re always taught that there are certain conflicts in stories, and all stories fall under one of these conflicts. In a story of Man vs. Man, two characters face each other. In Man vs. Nature, it’s a person (or persons) against the elements, a quest for survival. Man vs. Society highlights how the rules and expectations that govern our actions war against the way one would like to behave. Man vs. Technology, a newer source of conflict, is a battle between a character and some machine, (a struggle which anyone who owns a printer can relate to.) In a Man vs. Supernatural story, the hero tries to overcome forces far more powerful than they, and we cheer for the underdog. Man vs. Self is about a character’s journey to understand and face their very nature, the things that make them who they are, and to seek to win and overcome. The final conflict, Man vs. Destiny, is all about someone stopping the unstoppable from coming to pass.

 Here’s what sets romance apart as a genre. All of the above are tales of “Man versus” or “Woman versus” or “army of child soldiers versus” or “anthropomorphic animal versus” or any other such conflict. We want to see our character triumph over their enemy. We want the underdog to win, and we want one character to defeat another, and we want the character in the woods to make it out alive, and we hope that, if someone in a story is able to overcome their conflict with themselves, maybe we can, too.

 But a romance is not a tale of “Man versus.” It’s a tale of “Love versus.”

 In the above conflicts, we pit man against its surroundings and see if it will conquer. But in the romance, the champion horse we bet on isn’t either of the characters; it’s the love they have for each other.

 Love Versus Man: Is Love stronger than the person who tries to stop it? Is there anything one person can do that will circumvent the Love of others? Is Love more powerful than any man?

 Love Versus Nature: Is Love enough to get us through until help arrives? Can Love guide the way to safety? Is Love getting in the way of survival, or is Love the very key to our survival?

 Love Versus Society: Is Love strong enough to endure when others tell it not to? Is Love worth the risk of what others might think of you for it? Is Love enough to see what everyone else deems crazy as the only logical thing to do?

 Love Versus Technology: Is our Love going to matter in a world of ones and zeros? Is it possible for something mechanical to know what Love is? Is Love what sets us apart from what’s unnatural?

 Love Versus Supernatural: Is Love going to protect us from something greater than us? Is Love the true magic that overcomes evil? Is Love going to stand the test of time, even up against a force that claims itself more powerful?

 Love Versus Self: Can Love fix the parts of me I didn’t even know were broken? Is Love worthy of sacrifice? If Love is allowed to change me, who do I become?

 Love Versus Destiny: Is Love what pulls everything together, or are there other forces at play? Is Love able to overcome obstacles that are as fixed as the stars in the heavens? Is Love powerful enough to change what is written in stone?

 Aren’t these questions the ones we all ask? Is Love real, and is it powerful, and is it enough to triumph in even the circumstances I put it through? As we ask these questions, we know the answer we want to hear. We want the answer to be “yes.” Do you know what it is to ask a genuine question, not knowing the answer, but knowing what you wish the answer to be?

 It’s hope, and it’s the point of every good story. It’s believing in something impossible, creating a world where right prevails, and knowing, even when everyone tells you not to, that things can work out in the end. To tell a story is to create a hope, and there is no nobler hope than to hope in the power of love to conquer all.