Romance
Heat, heart, and the tropes that make readers auto-buy—edited by a two-time RWA national speaker who knows the genre’s promises and how to keep them.
I was a member of RWA for more than fifteen years, and I twice spoke at their national conferences—once on editing software and once on writing about sex. I mention the second because sometimes writers hesitate to ask whether I work with all heat levels. Yes, I edit open-door books, and no, the heat will not make me blush. From sweet romances to romantic smut, the relationships grow through intimate touch (whether the touch is hand-holding or acts that might lead to erotic heaven … or the ER).
What does a romance editor watch for?
I watch the emotional engine before anything else. Plot in romance is the vehicle. The relationship is the reason the reader bought the book, and every scene has to feed it—the wanting, the resistance, the promises a reader can feel coming from the first chapter, the HEA (or HFN) above all. When I edit romance I’m reading for whether the book keeps those promises and whether the payoff is proportional to how much the characters (and the readers!) have suffered.
I also watch the obstacles to the relationship. In the strongest romances, the MCs (main characters) are separated by who they believe they are, not by a misunderstanding or an unread text. The interior antagonist is whatever they believe about themselves and life that leads them to think that love, or this relationship, isn’t for them. They have to choose to do the hard work of growing in order to earn the HEA. A woman who has always been the dependable one may not believe she gets to want the woman across the table—and that belief, not a misunderstanding, is what the book has to take apart.
And I watch for whether the author has created characters readers can fall in love with, at least a little.
Where do romance drafts most often sag?
Most romance drafts sag in the middle. The opening has a meet-cute, sparks flying, and an underlying conflict. The end may have a black moment, a big gesture, and the HEA. But authors sometimes struggle with what to do with characters between the two and end up essentially sending them on dates. When I see the middle start to sag, I look for what each character still stands to lose. What are they risking? If the author and the characters both stay aware of that, the middle can become the strongest part.
How do you handle heat and consent?
I calibrate both to reader expectations for the particular subgenre. A closed-door romance and an explicit one establish different contracts with readers, and I edit each to reflect that contract. I won’t push your sweet romance hotter or get squeamish about your open-door book. Within those terms I read for how consent would arise from the characters and situation. Neither intimacy nor consent should be so generic you could plop them word-for-word into another book. Your characters are individuals with different styles, backgrounds, and desires.
If you write or read romance, you know that none of this is writing to a formula. The shape of romance is a constraint that forces an author to dig deep into character to make the reader feel like they’ve fallen in love yet again but in a brand-new way. Readers come to love your voice, your characters, your way of taking two people from irritated strangers to besotted lovers. That part is yours. I’m here to help you fulfill every promise your book makes.