#JusttheTipTuesday The One About HEAs
Hey there, Wordmaker!
Welcome to #JustTheTipTuesday where I share writing tips and tricks to help romance authors perfect their craft. This series, Romance 101, will cover the basics you need to get started. It’s an ongoing series.
We discussed the subgenres last week, and I intended to explore each one in depth starting today and continue that exploration through the summer.
However, I wanted to pause here to add something I feel is important.
It’s about happily ever afters.
Most of us are tired of this discourse. For myself, I think it just stirs up a lather like no other issue in the community does, and it often lacks nuance. It’s divisive and combative, and it’s often started for what I feel are the wrong reasons. I’m gonna touch on the nuance that’s often missing from the conversations. Then, next week, we can talk about how different subgenres can affect the type of HEA/HFN a romance might have.
What Defines a Romance Novel?
Whenever the topic of HEAs comes up, it’s often under the guise of saying, “XYZ is not a romance.” But what does that really mean, and why do HEAs hold such a pivotal place in genre romance?
At its core, a romance novel is defined by the central love story between the main characters. But there's another crucial element that distinguishes romance from other genres: the promise of a happy ending. This can take the form of a Happily Ever After (HEA) or a Happy For Now (HFN). The assurance of a positive conclusion is what sets romance apart and gives readers the emotional payoff they crave.
When Did HEAs Become a Requirement?
The expectation of HEAs in romance novels can be traced back to the rise of the genre in the 20th century, particularly during the Golden Age of Romance in the 1970s and 1980s. During this period, publishers like Harlequin and Mills & Boon began to dominate the market with their structured and approach to romance, which included a mandatory happy ending. This was a time when the romance genre solidified its identity, distinguishing itself from other genres by offering readers a guaranteed emotional reward.
This expectation was reinforced by the Romance Writers of America (RWA), founded in 1980. The RWA defined a romance novel as a central love story with an emotionally satisfying and optimistic ending (note: how this doesn’t say happy). This definition became widely accepted and has been influential in shaping the genre’s standards ever since.
Why Are HEAs So Important?
HEAs provide a sense of closure and satisfaction that is deeply comforting. In a world where real-life relationships can be complex and unpredictable, the certainty of a happy ending offers a reassuring escape. Readers turn to romance novels for the hope and positivity they deliver, knowing that they can trust the genre to leave them feeling uplifted and content.
While HEAs promise a lifelong commitment and a clear path to forever (allegedly!) HFNs offer a more flexible resolution. Happy For Now endings ensure that the characters are together and happy at the story’s conclusion, but they leave the future more open-ended. HFNs can be particularly appealing in series where the characters’ journey continues across multiple books, allowing for further development and exploration of their relationship.
The Debate Around HEAs
The debate around HEAs often arises when discussing whether certain books truly qualify as romance. Purists argue that without a guaranteed happy ending, a story cannot be considered a romance. This is why you might hear someone say, “XYZ is not a romance,” if the book concludes on a bittersweet or tragic note or if they don’t deem the characters worthy of a happily ever after. The promise of a HEA is seen as a contract between the author and the reader: a guarantee that despite the obstacles and conflicts the characters face, love will ultimately triumph. This seems pretty straightforward and easy to agree with…until it’s not.
Now, I feel like I should share my stance on HEAs before I continue…
My exposure to romance didn’t come through the traditional channels. Meaning, preteen Tasha wasn’t reading her mother’s historical romance novels while hiding in a closet. Not to brag, but I started reading at age four (which my mother remembered vividly) and read above grade level all through school. Trips to the library were frequent and apparently arduous for my mother, who was single with two jobs, even though she was an avid reader herself. During the summer, I would ask to go to the library two or three times a week because I ran through those books that quickly! Needless to say, she got tired of this and decided that at ten or eleven years old, I could simply read what she was reading, and if I had any questions, we could talk about it. Well, she was reading the Flowers in the Attic series then, so that was an adventure.
Later on, I was exposed to the explosion of Black literature in the 90s. My introduction to romance came through Black women’s fiction like Terry McMillian, Bebe Moore-Campbell, Connie Briscoe, Eric Jerome Dickey, E. Lynn Harris, as well as some of the Black classics from Richard Wright, Maya Angelou, Alice Walker, and Toni Morrison. I’m not saying that all of these authors wrote romances. In fact, this is part of the “serious Black literature” conversation that I had to confront and overcome when I first started writing. However, these books depicted characters with full, rich, and sometimes fucked up lives, which I deeply enjoyed, and when I got lucky, there was a romance in there, too! And I was always searching for romance in those stories. I didn’t truly start reading straight up big R romances until I was in my twenties. That alternate entry into romance has shaped what I perceive to be a romance in the present day. The definition of genre romance — a central love story with an emotionally satisfying and optimistic ending — has space for this kind of story. This is space I think should be maintained for the writer or reader who wants a romance with a little something extra in it!
Subgenres and Their Influence on Endings
Romance genre conventions dictate a certain narrative structure that culminates in a positive outcome, typically a happily ever after (HEA) or happily for now (HFN). This framework ensures that no matter the twists and turns, the story provides emotional satisfaction and a resolution that reaffirms the joy of love.
Now, reader preferences are a whole different ballgame. They influence how you like your romance served—quick and light or slow and complex? Preferences can also dictate the pace, conflict level, and even the setting, whether it’s contemporary, historical, or a sprinkle of fantasy. However, preferences are not meant to be genre conventions.
So, how did the majority of romance authors and readers come to believe the opposite to be true? There was a surge in “How to Write a Bestselling Romance” guides around the time that self-publishing became popular and considered less of a hobby or side gig and more of a potential way to change the life of the author. Previously, those guides were educational and focused on craft and knowledge, but that quickly changed. Through no fault of their own, successful authors have published guides that elucidate their process and highlight what sells best for them, which is great information to have. However, newer or aspiring authors treated these guides as if they were reference materials. Plot formulas that were meant to help you give your book structure now tick all the boxes for what makes a romance successful. And honestly, I get it. Who wants to spend all that time writing a book that didn’t pay off in readers or income? This type of romance novel shifted from things that you could include in your romance, to what might be nice to include, but now seem to have become requirements. This has led to a slew of novels that have shifted from read-alikes to predictable.
This flattening of the genre is a problem, in my opinion.
When reader preferences start shaping genre conventions, shit gets dicey really quickly. Forcing these preferences on all romance novels can dilute the genre's diversity, squeezing out stories that might explore love from fresh or intricate angles. Plus, it sidelines readers and writers who crave or craft stories outside the mainstream. While personal preferences guide what books you pick off the shelf, they shouldn't dictate the core elements that define the romance genre.
Now that we’ve ironed out conventions and preferences let’s circle back to how subgenres can affect the way our beloved HEAs read.
In many subgenres of romance, the assumed primacy of romance in the narrative takes a backseat, becoming more of a subplot rather than the central focus. While the romantic elements remain integral to the storyline, they often intertwine with larger plots, such as saving a kingdom in a fantasy romance or solving a mystery in romantic suspense. This blending allows the romance to enrich the primary narrative, adding depth and emotional resonance without overshadowing the main action. Consequently, the love story enhances the reader’s experience, providing a compelling subplot that complements the broader themes and adventures of the primary plot. This is one of my favorite things about the genre and why I chose to write in it! That shift reflects the genre's versatility, showing that romance can seamlessly integrate into diverse narrative frameworks, offering readers a multifaceted reading experience.
This assumed romance primacy, along with a narrowing of the genre conventions to align with reader expectations, has created a very narrow window for authors to write in. It also tends to assume that all characters need to be likable and are put through situations that the majority find relatable, in other words, a self-insert story. Not all readers like or need to be able to relate to the characters to find the story entertaining or to root for their romance to reach that happily ever after that we know is coming.
The subgenres often called out in the ‘this is not a romance’ discourse tend to be dark romance, horror romance, and women’s fiction, which can mean anything that has too much of the heroine’s life written in. There are lots of patriarchal reasons that play into why I think that is, but to keep it on topic, it’s mostly about the fact that HEAs read differently in those subgenres. That’s not to say that there aren’t what I would call textbook romance HEAs in those subgenres. To be honest, there often are. It's the unconventional portrayal of HEAs that stirs the pot. In dark and horror romance, for instance, the path to a fulfilling relationship might wade through themes of danger, moral ambiguity, the supernatural, or even death. This journey doesn't always wrap up with a traditional sunny, conflict-free conclusion. Instead, the HEA might come with complexities and a more nuanced sense of resolution.
These examples demonstrate how romance subgenres create distinct paths to HEAs and HFNs. Each subgenre offers a unique blend of challenges and resolutions, making the journey to love as varied and engaging as the readers themselves.
Can you see how assuming romance primacy and allowing reader preference to shape what the genre is known for into a very small, very limited container?
Quite often, authors who play with form and perspective are accused of shoving their story into the genre with the hopes of “getting some of those good romance dollars.” Now, I’m not denying that sometimes, on very rare occasions, things that aren’t romances get shoehorned into the genre. A few books by Nicolas Sparks come to mind. However, in most cases, it’s just a romance that’s not written in the reader’s preferred structure or covers themes and storylines that they don’t want to read.
That doesn’t mean they’re not romances, though.
Expanding the Definition of HEAs
I get it. The idea of HEAs expanding beyond your preferred emotionally satisfying ending makes you worry that those kinds of romances will no longer be available to you. That’s factually untrue. No one is saying that people should stop writing those capital R romances. No one is calling for them to no longer exist. Loosening the chokehold on the genre simply allows romance authors to be more adventurous and gives readers more options that play with form and themes we don’t traditionally see. But as the world changes, so too does our understanding of what an HEA can look like.
Not only that, the genre has already evolved in positive ways when it comes to HEAs. They now highlight love stories set in various cultural contexts. This means seeing HEAs that respect and reflect different cultural traditions and practices. HEAs that respect and acknowledge that no matter your background or socio-economic status, we all love.
LGBTQIA+ romances are finally beginning the spotlight they deserve. These stories show that love is love, no matter the gender or sexual orientation of the characters. Seeing LGBTQ+ characters achieve their HEA is incredibly validating. It’s a powerful reminder that everyone deserves a happy ending.
Characters with disabilities and mental health struggles are out here challenging stereotypes and showing that love is universal. A character with a disability finding love and happiness is not only heartwarming but also crucial for representation. It shows that HEAs are for everyone, regardless of physical or mental challenges.
The definition of relationships is also expanding. We’re seeing more stories that explore polyamory, open relationships, and other non-traditional dynamics. These romances challenge conventional ideas about love and commitment, offering fresh perspectives on what it means to find happiness and fulfillment.
There are monster romances for chrissakes! And I’m not talking about your traditional vampires, werewolves, murder mermaids, and mythology-based scaries, either. Authors are dreaming up terrifying ghouls and turning them into cinnamon roll heroes!
And the most significant change when we talk about HEAs specifically is the acknowledgment that sometimes a HEA doesn’t mean marriage or a lifelong commitment. It can be a happy-for-now (HFN) ending, where characters are together and happy, but their future is left open-ended. This approach feels more realistic for many readers and acknowledges that life doesn’t always come with guarantees. What matters is the joy and connection characters find in the moment.
Even if these aren’t your cup of tea, you can let it be someone else’s cup of whiskey. This evolution is something to be celebrated. Let’s embrace stories that are as diverse and multifaceted as the world we live in and the worlds we can dream up.
The insistence on HEAs in romance novels underscores the genre’s unique promise of emotional satisfaction and hope. Whether it’s a traditional HEA or a more nuanced HFN, the happy ending is a cornerstone of romance that keeps readers coming back for more. So the next time someone says, “XYZ is not a romance,” you’ll understand that they’re likely referring to the absence of this crucial element. It’s clear that HEAs and HFNs will remain central to the genre. However, they might not always read the way you prefer. The good news is that there are literally thousands of romances published every month! I have no doubt that you’ll be able to find what you’re looking for without taking to social media to complain about themes, tropes, characters, and endings you hate.
This definitely turned into a rant-y, opinon piece. *Shrugs* I’m not sad about it. But later on, if you’re feeling raw and you want to talk it out, I’ll be waiting.
I promise next week we will start to breakdown each subgenre which I’m super excited about.
Until then…
See you next Tuesday!
xo, Tasha
