If romance still gets unfairly dismissed as a “lesser genre” than other types of fiction, then often tropes are the evidence with which critics love to slam it.
A discussion on Bluesky this morning, prompted by author Ashe Green, got me thinking about my favorite romance tropes. There are plenty to choose from, certainly: every combination of friends, enemies, strangers, and coworkers to lovers; “grumpy/sunshine”; “bully romance”; and more beyond. For me, it was a pretty easy decision, because I really love writing (and reading) “best friend’s brother”/“sibling’s best friend” stories.
(Incidentally, you’re ditching Twitter/X for Bluesky, right? It’s so much more fun there, now – you can find me here)
Tropes, in the fiction world, are pretty much shortcuts to describe the arc of a story. In “enemies to lovers” for example, two people somehow at odds later discover they’d prefer to be romantically entangled; in a “fake relationship” story, characters pretending to date end up having genuine feelings. “Meet cute” is arguably the most common: that deeply-endearing moment when the two lovers come together.
Limited in characters, my brain boiled down what I love about “best friend’s brother”/“sibling’s best friend” to four key things: “I know you so well, but not like THIS / if we get caught there’ll be hell to pay / why am I feeling like this NOW?! / let’s sneak around sneakily having sneaky sex.”
I’ve got four books which follow either the “best friend’s brother” or “sibling’s best friend” trope. “You Can Look,” “I Knew I Was In Trouble,” “Same Old Bobby,” and, most recently, “Show Me” all fit into that category. You could even argue that “Xander Shows Me My Prostate” fits, too. When I realized, I started to wonder if I was getting predictable (or maybe a little obsessed).
That’s the thing about tropes; or, more accurately maybe, the strength of tropes. On the face of it, they’re easy ways for readers to find the story themes they like to read the most. At the same time, “writing to trope” is a fairly common accusation, particularly in romance, because it implies a lack of imagination.
Really, though, a trope is just framing. What happens within that frame can be hugely different.
In “You Can Look,” Leo is openly gay but intentionally holding any possibility of romance at bay. Then along comes Mark, best friend to Leo’s younger brother, and – with the help of a little forced proximity (hello, intersecting tropes!) – suddenly Leo is forced to examine just why he’s so averse to a relationship.
Then there’s “Same Old Bobby,” another story with secret romance at its center. Only this time, Bobby’s far from being out, and is terrified of the potential consequences if his family and friends discover he’s gay – or that he’s hooking up with his best friend’s label-averse older brother. Bobby and Evan have to navigate not only their feelings, but what being visibly queer might involve for each of them.
If Evan is apprehensive about his gay identity, Mitchell in “I Knew I Was In Trouble” is terrified to the point of suppression. It takes his best friend’s younger brother Josh – several years behind Mitchell, but leagues ahead in self-awareness – to crack his shell of denial, and help him even begin to recognize his feelings of same-sex attraction.
Finally, “Show Me” – which I released earlier in November – has hints of all three prior books. Mateo’s trying to figure out his own bi identity, in the shadow of his brash, openly-gay twin brother. It’s his twin’s best friend Parker – hedonistic, wry, and easily-bored – who brings those frustrations to the fore, not to mention an opportunity for all three to repair their enmeshed relationships.
Now, maybe it’s little self-serving (because who wants to think of themselves as formulaic?) but I’d like to think these four examples of one trope are all pretty different in their approach. That, for me, is what makes tropes so incredible: you understand the context, but there’s still room to be surprised by the delivery.
It’s a little like the romance genre itself, in fact. The happy-ever-after (or happy-for-now) may be guaranteed, but it’s the route by which we’ll get there that’s the addictive mystery.
Do you have a favorite trope? Or one you can’t stand? Let me know in the comments!