I wonder what people think when they find out I write romance.

It’s amazing how a genre can get so little respect. A couple of my students were teasing me about what I write, saying that I needed to spend my time writing a real novel. I suppose I should fail them in the class just on principle.

But it did get me thinking. Why do some people believe a romance novel isn’t a novel? It’s bound between covers. It has pages. It tells a story. If it’s missing other qualifications, I’m not aware of it. Why is one genre or story more respectable than another?

I remember the key note speech Lisa Kleypas gave at the Dallas convention. When everything she owned was destroyed and she went to purchase “necessities,” she picked up Kathleen Woodiwiss’s Petals on the River. I would have done the same. If you need to ask why it was a necessity, you will never understand why romance is so loved.

To me, a romance NOVEL brings conflict and resolution — good triumping over evil — love conquering all. And some people consider those bad things? Give me a break. I would take a romance novel over any story of angst, violence, or horror. I choose to spend what precious little free time I have on a story that is uplifting and life affirming.

What’s not to like?