If you believe the myths, there's not much reason to get excited about the Australian Romance Readers Association convention in Melbourne next weekend. Just a bunch of fluffy housewives who like reading or writing titillating happy-ever-after drivel, right?
Not the way they tell it. Romance writers in Australia – and anywhere else, for that matter – are a formidable bunch of dedicated professionals who have spent years honing their craft. They believe passionately in what they do, and know how to please readers. Which is more than many writers can know.
![Anne Gracie, prize-winning romance author.](/web/20170220194956im_/http://www.theage.com.au/content/dam/images/g/u/9/i/g/g/image.related.articleLeadwide.620x349.gu9irv.png/1486676229318.jpg)
Maybe you haven't heard of Kylie Scott, Anne Gracie or Rachael Johns. You should have. They are among the Australian superstars of romance fiction, international bestselling authors dominating the list of finalists for the ARRA awards, which will be announced at the convention's gala dinner on February 25. There will also be sessions on whether there's a conflict between feminism and romance fiction; the rise of rural romance; and building the perfect villain.
The statistics for romance reading are pretty staggering. It's the largest single category of book sold in the world. The largest romance publisher, Harlequin, sells more than four books a second. It's also very diverse: the ARRA awards cover sub-genres of historical, erotic, suspense, paranormal, contemporary, sci-fi and fantasy romance. One writer may work across different sub-genres: Kylie Scott's heroines fall for heavily muscled and tattooed rock musicians, bartenders and heroes in a zombie apocalypse.
![Bestselling Western Australian author Rachael Johns.](/web/20170220194956im_/http://www.theage.com.au/content/dam/images/g/u/9/i/h/g/image.related.articleLeadNarrow.300x0.gu9irv.png/1486676229318.jpg)
Yes, romance fiction is escapist and feelgood, and some is badly written. But that's also true of genres that don't seem to attract the same dismissive scorn. Could this be something to do with the fact that it's mostly women who write it and read it?
Anne Gracie has written a spirited defence of the genre. Once, she shared all the old prejudices: she only got into the business because she thought she'd make some easy money. After several of her novels were rejected, she realised she was buying into the myths and wasn't finding out about her target market. So she turned to historical Regency romance that is feminist and funny, and she hasn't looked back.
Gracie lists all the myths – there's a formula; they're all the same; they're soft porn for women; they are full of cardboard characters, cliches and bad writing; they are junk fiction with no value; writers knock off the books in their spare time; romance is for dumb or pathetic women; it gives them unrealistic expectations of life; it's money for jam; and it's dead easy to write. Then she debunks each one.
It's a convincing performance, and I like her quote from veteran romance writer Daphne Clair: "Readers of literary fiction expect to be challenged and like to be entertained; readers of popular fiction expect to be entertained and like to be challenged. They're often the same readers in a different mood."
And yet the myths persist. What can writers do about them? Point out the intellectual dishonesty of criticising the entire genre instead of individual books, writes American author Jennifer Crusie in her essay Defeating the Critics. Argue that romance fiction is maligned because it threatens rigid political and academic structures. And show that it is one of the more honest forms of fiction being written about women today.
"But the truth is," Crusie concludes, "it's all probably a waste of time because the critics don't matter, the readers do; we don't write to please establishments, we write to reach women… We entertain, we enlighten, we empower, and in the end we influence far more people than any of our critics ever will."