Romance Escape
After another long day at work, I followed my usual routine: coming home in the evening and settling into my living room to unwind. Seeking relaxation, I reached for a new book by a different author, hoping that the change might offer something light and airy—perhaps even a touch of magic or romance.
Sometimes I crave deeper, more insightful stories. I’m also partial to a good mystery, though I’ve started to notice a peculiar trend: why are so many bodies found in libraries? I can’t help but blame Agatha Christie for popularizing this trope. Honestly, leaving a body in a library seems like a terrible idea. Librarians have an incredible wealth of knowledge, particularly when it comes to solving mysteries, and their resourcefulness would make them formidable amateur detectives. In fact, they’re probably the last group of “ordinary” people I’d want involved in a murder investigation. But I digress.
Wanting to avoid the realities of my day, I decided to dive into a romance novel—specifically, Tessa Bailey’s “Fangirl Down.” I have to admit, this was the fastest I’ve ever put down a book unfinished, and I’m grateful I borrowed it from the library. The experience left me questioning whether there was something in the story that others appreciated but I missed, or if perhaps I simply view characters differently. The protagonist struck me as overly saccharine and, frankly, somewhat creepy in her obsessive behavior. The male lead—a pro golfer—was a toxic mess. Within the first chapter, it was clear the story would revolve around a girl attempting to “save” a troubled man, and I just couldn’t continue. I’m not sure whether to give the author another try to see if her style shifts, or if this simply appeals to a different readership than me.
While I appreciate authors who depict characters struggling—since it’s something we all experience—I believe growth and self-awareness are essential. I don’t enjoy stories where the woman is responsible for rescuing a toxic male. I’m much more interested in relationships where both partners support each other as they work through their issues together. I’ve learned that I can’t save anyone, even though my problem-solving instincts as an engineer sometimes make it tempting to try.
Another popular book that popped up on my feed that I made it to the end but almost DNF was “The Lost Bookshop” by Evie Woods. My problem with this book was the character growth and development. I wanted to instead write the author and ask her if she is ok based on the behaviors of Henry, the supposed good guy. As someone who has battled their mental health and toxic relationships, I was also bothered by how she showed the healing process, it is almost harmful. First there was Henry – my god was he is an idiot. What kind of PHD students doesn’t know how to do basic research? When he meets Martha, she is able to quickly google on her smart phone and finds key information about dissertation. Then some of the ways he talks to her and treats her was cringe worthy. Worst of all, who just leaves a note for their partner to find – which of course is lost – and doesn’t call or text for days effectively ghosting her. Then worst off all, he has spent years being angry with his dad that has impacted every aspect of this life. Then suddenly, his dad just apologizes he is suddenly good. Nope… that is not how that works. Dealing with trauma takes years of work, you can’t just say it all good and be fine. Then there is Opaline’s story, she was kept for years in a mental hospital and at the end just… walks out. How dumb… like she had to progress the story so went with the “all good” and no character growth or development. How do these books become so popular? Do people not recognize that is not how healing works? I am not going to even get into how they deal with Martha’s abusive ex and her own healing.
Another popular book that recently appeared in my feed was “The Lost Bookshop” by Evie Woods. I did manage to finish it, but it was almost a “did not finish” for me due to significant frustrations with the character growth and development. Having personally dealt with mental health struggles and toxic relationships, I found the depiction of the healing process in this novel to be not only unrealistic but bordering on harmful. The portrayal of Henry, supposedly the “good guy,” was especially troubling. At times, his actions and decisions made me want to reach out to the author herself and ask if she was okay, given how problematic his behavior was.
Henry, for instance, is a PhD student who inexplicably lacks basic research skills—so much so that Martha, upon meeting him, is able to quickly perform a simple Google search on her smartphone and uncover key information related to his dissertation. His interactions with Martha often crossed into uncomfortable territory, filled with cringe-worthy comments and actions. The worst example was when Henry left a note for Martha, which, predictably, got lost—and then he failed to call or text her for days, effectively ghosting her.
Even more concerning was Henry’s unresolved anger toward his father, which had permeated every aspect of his life for years. The narrative then abruptly resolves this issue: his father apologizes, and suddenly everything is fine. That’s just not how healing from trauma works. Recovery is a long-term process, not something that is fixed with a single conversation or apology.
Opaline’s story was equally unconvincing. After spending years confined to a mental hospital, she simply walks out by the novel’s end—with no meaningful character growth or development depicted. It felt as though the need to move the plot forward took precedence over authentic, believable progress for her character.
It’s baffling how books like this become so popular. Do readers not recognize that this is not how real healing happens? I won’t even get started on how the narrative handles Martha’s abusive ex and her own journey toward healing.
My reactions to certain books are deeply personal, likely because I have invested so much effort in my own journey of self-improvement. Despite this hard work, I often find myself feeling stuck, unable to silence the persistent voices in my head. It is a constant internal debate between my logical reasoning and my emotional responses. The triggers from my past remain active; it’s not as simple as declaring “I’m good” and suddenly becoming fine. Healing is far more complicated, and the idea that one can just “fix” a toxic partner and instantly transform them into someone supportive feels unrealistic to me.
One of the main reasons I read is to find hope—to believe that good things are possible. Yet, I can’t help but wish for a future partner who communicates well, someone who knows how to send a simple text to let me know if they’re out of town, or who can perform a basic Google search when needed. These small gestures matter and are important to me.
Sometimes, I wonder whether I could replicate some of the growth and transformation I read about or see on screen in my own life. Is it possible for me to embark on a hero’s journey of personal growth and change? At this moment, I feel more like a supporting character in the story of my own life, rather than the protagonist driving the narrative forward.
Perhaps I can take the books I've read and the movies I've watched as inspiration to craft my own narrative. By blending the genres, I enjoy and playing with familiar tropes, maybe I could see what unfolds if I try to apply these storylines to my own life. It’s possible that doing so might help me break out of my current slump and catalyze some real change. For now, I think I’ll focus on drawing from insightful fiction and romance—I'll steer clear of mysteries, though. I have no desire to stumble upon a dead body or be suspected of murder in my story.
The Romance Novel
Most romance books begin with a range of classic scenarios. One that is popular is the bad break-up or divorce storyline, which paves the way for the protagonist to meet an amazing new partner. I certainly have a collection of break-up stories myself. Then there is in a bad relationship and meet someone new, and it takes times to realize they are with the wrong person. The one I most closely identify with the woman who is hopeless in love, chronically single, and gradually losing hope. It’s a little embarrassing to admit that I have never been loved before. It has been so long since I went on a good date—or had sex—that I honestly wouldn’t know what to do if I found myself in a relationship again.
There are countless ways romance novels orchestrate that pivotal first encounter between the protagonist and their love interest. One of the most beloved is the “enemies to friends” arc, famously exemplified by Pride and Prejudice, which remains one of my all-time favorites. Right now, though, I can’t think of any men in my life who fit the role of an enemy—which, honestly, is probably for the best.
Another frequently used scenario is fake dating. As much as these stories can be entertaining, I can’t imagine a situation where I would need to pretend to date someone; my family has accepted my single status for so long that they no longer ask about my relationships.
Then, there’s the trope of rekindling a romance with an ex. That’s definitely not for me—my last ex broke up with me right before Valentine’s Day, on the very day his gift arrived in the mail. Needless to say, I have no desire to revisit old relationships.
In terms of close male friends, there’s only Luke, but I know nothing romantic will ever develop between us. It’s not even something I want to daydream about. Instead, I need to focus on moving forward—and that means opening myself up to meeting someone new, someone who genuinely wants to be a part of my life. To make that happen, I’ll have to start putting myself out there and engaging in more social situations, with the hope of experiencing that classic “meet cute.” Who knows? Perhaps this could be the beginning of a great romance novel of my own.
The Found Family
The “found family” trope centers on the journey of an outcast who, over time, discovers a close-knit group of friends who fill the role of family. In my own life, I carry memories of toxic family relationships; I have made difficult but necessary decisions to set boundaries and limit contact with those individuals. While these actions have been important for my well-being, the aftereffects linger—especially when it comes to learning how to truly trust others and allow them into my life.
Sometimes I wonder if the found family scenario is truly attainable for someone in my situation. Being single and childless in my 40s, forming deep, meaningful friendships feels particularly challenging. While I do have a circle of acquaintances, building the kind of close bond one has with a best friend or confidant is something that currently eludes me. The thought of actively seeking out such relationships feels overwhelming; I’m not even sure where to begin, and the enormity of the task is already sinking in.
Despite these feelings, I recognize the need to take proactive steps. If I want to create my own found family, I will have to figure out how to meet more people in my life and invest in growing those connections. I suspect that this process will require considerable research and self-reflection—fortunately, delving into new challenges is something I’m good at and genuinely enjoy. Even though the path ahead seems daunting, I am prepared to investigate and learn as much as I can to make this vision a reality.
The Glow Up
The "glow up" troupe centers on a character’s transformative journey—both internal and external—where they overcome personal obstacles, embrace self-improvement, and ultimately discover newfound confidence and worth. Often, this transformation goes beyond just a physical makeover; it includes emotional growth, healing from past wounds, and developing a stronger sense of self. The glow up frequently serves as a catalyst for positive changes in relationships, career, and overall happiness, making it a beloved trope for readers who enjoy stories of hope and empowerment.
Reflecting on the “glow up” trope, I see how it can serve as a model for my own growth. I realize that it’s time to identify which areas of my life need positive change—starting with rebuilding my self-confidence and making my well-being a priority. The past few years have left me feeling disconnected from who I once was; the fun and flirty aspects of my personality seem to have faded away. Years of being told I wasn’t feminine enough have taken their toll, and in some ways, I almost gave up trying as a form of rebellion. Now, I know that true transformation will require significant internal work. I am prepared to face this challenge and commit to the internal growth necessary to rediscover my sense of self.
Finding Purpose as an Artist
The “finding your purpose” trope often centers on a character’s quest for meaning, particularly through their creative pursuits as an artist. The protagonist typically faces persistent self-doubt, an accumulation of unfinished projects, and pervasive feelings of being an imposter. This mirrors exactly where I find myself at this stage in my life.
Such journeys usually begin from a place of feeling lost or disconnected—not only from one’s art, but also from one’s authentic self. It’s common for the character to navigate stretches of intense introspection and vulnerability before they can rediscover their direction. For me, this is perhaps the most daunting challenge; contemplating what I truly desire and determining the future of my artistic endeavors fills me with considerable anxiety.
As I sit here, reflecting on the different areas of my life where I am struggling, I realize just how overwhelming it all feels. There is a sense that I have lost myself and the essence of who I truly am. The weight of these feelings builds up inside me, leading to anxiety and tension that even manifests physically as tight muscles. Recognizing this, I understand that the first steps I need to take involve uncovering and reconnecting with my true identity.
