Love is in the air, and so are terrible romance books.
Obviously, that statement is subjective and dramatic, but for the sake of this column, I must recommend the hidden gems in a sea of really bad books.
The thing about the romance genre is that it’s often difficult for the work to be taken seriously. It’s frequently dismissed as frivolous or written solely for young women, but when read with a critical eye — assessing prose, character development and storyline — many books in this category may surprise you.
I’ve previously mentioned the beloved writing duo Christina Hobbs and Lauren Billings, infamously known by their authorial name, Christina Lauren. The quality of their books hinges on how easy they are to fall into. My favorite is “Love and Other Words,” a dual-timeline, second-chance romance. I’m typically hesitant about dual-timeline books, but this was one of those rare reads where I never wanted the flashback to end — only to reach the present day timeline and feel the same way. The story follows childhood friends as they navigate an awkward teenage romance and later reunite as adults. As a firm believer that childhood friends-to-lovers is the best trope, this certainly proves my point. I’ve read a solid eight Christina Lauren books, and I can confidently say this one takes the cake.
Next up is a book that pulled me out of my most severe reading slump back in the day. “Before We Were Strangers” is especially relatable as it follows two college freshmen — both art enthusiasts, both searching for companionship. As their relationship transitions from platonic to romantic, they undergo the classic college miscommunication disaster. The writing develops the characters so relatably that it’s easy to resonate with their story.
This is the key to romance novels — once you’re invested in the characters, the background annoyances fade, and the focus zooms in on rooting for the couple.
Like any story, romance books have their flaws, but the frustration with them is amplified because public perception deems them less legitimate than other genres.
In retaliation against that ideology, let’s talk about the cheesiest romance book of them all. Lynn Painter’s “Better Than the Movies” is beloved by readers for its perfect balance of cliché and self-awareness. This book was so thoroughly enjoyed that anticipation for a sequel was overwhelming. Released in 2024, “Nothing Like the Movies” continued the story of the genre’s fan-favorite characters. Full disclosure: I liked the first book drastically more than the sequel (per usual), but it was still a quick, lighthearted read I’d recommend for an airplane or road trip.
Last but not least, I must shout out a book that doubles as a romance novel and a source of emotional destruction. This book was originally “recommended” to me by a friend — I say recommended loosely because she called me in shambles, sobbing over it, and I took that as a sign I had to read it. I sped through “If He Had Been With Me” in basically one sitting. The characters were lovable, the writing flowed easily, and — best of all — I cried my eyes out. Including a sad book in this list felt essential, partly because heartbreak is a key element of romance novels and partly for reasons I shouldn’t unpack here.
My general issue with this genre, however, is that it romanticizes every aspect of relationships, making even the characters’ bad days feel like a love song. I’ve been frequently told I’m a cynic, so maybe I just don’t resonate with the glass-half-full ideology these books typically produce, but the idea that your first love or high school sweetheart is “the one” is… not impossible, but entirely unrealistic. “If He Had Been With Me” still has all the components of a great romance novel: slow burn, angst, tension and devastation. Though a stellar read, these fictional love stories often stray far from the complexities and challenges of real-life relationships, offering a more idealized, often unattainable version of love.
At the end of the day, romance books aren’t meant to be perfect — they’re meant to make you feel something, whether it’s joy, frustration or heartbreak. If a terrible romance novel can do that, even in the cheesiest, most melodramatic, cliche way possible, who cares what Goodreads rating it has?
