I’m not going to talk about what it means to be romantic. That’s highly individual, and there are no shortcuts. If you want to know what your significant other likes or dislikes, ask!
What I’m concerned with is the definition of romance in fiction, because sometimes I see it flung about in wide circles at any story in which a man and a woman notice each other as members of the opposite sex. A romance story isn’t just about humans behaving in normal human fashion. It isn’t simply about attraction, dating, marriage, or sex. In fact, the term “romance” as applied to fiction does not describe a theme, setting, or condition.
Romance describes a *plot*. According to Wikipedia:
Plot is a literary term defined as the events that make up a story, particularly as they relate to one another in a pattern, in a sequence, through cause and effect, how the reader views the story, or simply by coincidence. One is generally interested in how well this pattern of events accomplishes some artistic or emotional effect.
Plots involve tension. Two opposing forces interact, competing against one another through twists and turns until one comes out on top. In a class murder mystery plot, the detective battles the skills of the murderer, who does not want to be discovered. He will discover clues, follow leads that do not pan out, discover other clues that turn out to be red herrings, and only then will he unmask the culprit.
What would you call this story if someone was murdered, but the protagonist knows from the start who did it. Instead of trying to find out who did it, perhaps the protagonist seeks revenge. This is no longer a mystery, since a mystery identifies a plot in which a protagonist works to solve a, well, mystery. The fact that someone died doesn’t make a story a mystery. People die all the time. It’s the tail end of life.
Likewise, people get together all the time. It’s fine. Great even. Well-rounded characters should live a full life, which may include love, loss, pain, and defeat.
But the fact that they love doesn’t mean they are protagonists in a romance story.
Young adult fiction is getting particularly sloppy with this. Romance sells, or so publishers are coming to understand, so they want a “romance” in their young adult story. This usually means that a girl notices a guy, or visa versa. Seems perfectly plausible to me, given what I remember of my own preoccupations during my teenage years, but it is not a romance, not even as a subplot.
Romance primarily involves the question: How will these two get together? The forces involved are “that which brings them together” vs “that which keeps them apart.” Most romances end with an HEA (happily ever after), but people devour them despite knowing how they will end. Why? Because of the emotional ride in a well-told story.
A romance plot should have twists and turns. That which keeps them apart at the beginning should shift, complicating matters or further separating the two potential lovers. If the romance is the primary plot, it should have several turning points, but even if you want a real romantic subplot, you should have one.
If the only thing keeping two people apart is that they haven’t gotten together yet, it’s not a romance. I see this often in so-called “romantic suspense” in which the hero and heroine are mostly waiting for the suspense to resolve before finally hooking up. That’s not romance — it’s a hookup.
Why does it matter? Maybe it doesn’t, but we do put a lot of stock in labels, and as long as that is true, I think knowing what romance is, and what it is not, takes a lot of the pressure off. Some authors don’t want to write romance, so they keep their characters apart, not letting them get involved with one another. That’s silly. If it is right and natural for them to get together, hook ’em up. It’s part of normal character development, not part of a subplot you don’t want to mess with. On the other hand, if you *do* want to write romance, know what it is — and write a good one!