Romance Novels

My Goodreads categories include biography, classic, comedy, fiction, health & wellness, historical fiction, military, non-fiction, poetry, science & nature, self-improvement, sports, thriller, and YA. There’s no specific romance category (I usually hide those in fiction), but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy a good love story.

As much as I appreciate escaping into a world where I know the protagonists will inevitably end up together, I have one major problem with the genre: universally attractive main characters.

I know, I know—beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and “ugly” is a relative term. But I believe there are some universal beauty standards. And, somehow, the criteria that define those standards always seem to match the physical characteristics of every romantic lead.

Male

Roughly one percent of the male population is over 6’4″. Yet somehow every man in these stories is 6’5″. Actually, come to think of it, they’re not over 6’5″—they are always exactly 6’5″. Which means even that one percent estimate might be generous. For those of us under six feet, a pair of lifts can only do so much.

The word sculpted also appears frequently. Sculpted abs. Sculpted back. Sculpted calves. Sculpted thorax (just checking to see if you’re still paying attention). It’s certainly possible to be in shape, but it’s not possible for every body part to look like it was carved out of granite—especially given the number of dates and restaurant meals that take place in these stories.

You cannot eat out for 80 percent of your meals and maintain immaculate dorsal fins. Realistically, our male leads would be turning down dinner invitations because they’re intermittent fasting.

Then there’s the clothing.

Every item they wear is described as if it were painted on. T-shirts, suits, sweaters, overalls, robes, ponchos, snow suits—whatever they’re wearing appears perfectly tailored. And remember, these are 6’5″ specimens. Somewhere, there must be a small army of seamstresses (that’s a lot of s’s) working around the clock to ensure their AC/DC band t-shirt perfectly complements their pectoral muscles.

Female

Authors approach female attractiveness differently than male attractiveness in romance novels. I have to assume it’s because the intended readers are female, and if every female lead looked like Grace Kelly or Audrey Hepburn, readers might find it unrealistic.

Curiously, they have no such problem with the male leads.

Instead of impossible beauty standards, female characters are given effortless attractiveness—the literary equivalent of the girl-next-door look.

Our heroine is perpetually running late. She quickly throws on a blouse and some straight-leg jeans, and somehow this minimalist look drives the male lead wild. In my completely scientific research, I discovered that the most common adjective-noun combination in romance novels is the “messy bun.”

With an astounding hit rate of roughly fourteen mentions per book, the messy bun reigns supreme. Our heroine, despite having no time to spare, effortlessly tosses her hair into a bun that somehow frames her face perfectly—letting us know that even though she’s too busy running her coffee shop to style her hair, she can still look amazing.

Scent also plays a significant role in the couple’s mutual attraction.

Unlike the universal 6’5″ height requirement for male leads, there is no single scent that female leads carry. Instead, their fragrance seems uniquely tailored to the emotional needs of the male protagonist.

A few common examples:

Cookies – Perhaps it evokes childhood memories of baking with Mom or Grandma. There’s a nostalgic, comforting quality to the aroma.

Crisp forest air – Often the hero is an outdoorsman, so anything that reminds him of the wilderness draws him in.

Lavender – A calming scent, typically paired with a male lead who has a troubled past and needs emotional stability.

Citrus – A symbol of freshness. Sometimes our hero is simply looking for a clean start.

Home – The most mysterious scent of all. Vague, undefined, and deeply symbolic. When she smells like home, the author is essentially telling us the relationship is destiny.

What Do We Do About This?

Simple.

Remove the tired romance novel tropes and replace them with ugly characters.

I mean flawed characters.

I won’t go into too much detail here—this idea probably deserves its own post—but let’s just say that in my proposed romance novels there will be a lot more 5’9″ guys who genuinely intend to go to the gym but somehow never quite make it.