You’ll find every trope known to humankind within the romance genre, but there’s one that never fails to make my teeth itch. In the multitude of book promos that populate my social media feed, the trope of the female main character harboring secrets reigns supreme. The secrecy trope comes in two basic variations:

1. The heroine has a “dark” background that she keeps secret, and it comes back to bite her. But all is forgiven, of course.
2. The heroine is intimate with a dangerous man and gets pregnant. She keeps the pregnancy secret … until she can’t, of course.

The “Dark” Background

So-called dark backgrounds run the gamut from a history of childhood abuse to current illegal or illicit activity to present circumstances resulting in impending homelessness, joblessness, or other situational catastrophe. It’s almost always used as a reason for shame, something the heroine doesn’t want other people—especially the hero—knowing about because it reflects poorly on her.

In a (very) few such instances, the dark background is something actually does need to be kept secret, like the heroine’s employment as an undercover operator or integrated in WITSEC (the witness protection program). In those (very) few instances, I can accept the secrecy as necessary: she’s undercover. That rarely happens, however, because the heroine is usually employed as a waitress, primary school teacher, a secretary/administrative assistant, a student, or unemployed.

There’s nothing dishonorable about any of the above jobs, but the limited career options for romance heroines leads to another … er … discussion. I’ll save that for another post.

Mostly, however, the secret is used as a contrived device to elevate tension in the story. It justifies the failure of the heroine to have a candid discussion to explain her odd behavior, at least until the third act climax when all is revealed and explanations are overdue to facilitate the touching reunion of the romantically involved.

The Secret Baby

The secret baby trope comes in a couple of standard options.

First is the one night stand or brief affair in which the hero and heroine part (for whatever reason) before she realizes she’s pregnant. The heroine doesn’t bother to contact the hero to let him know of his impending fatherhood because … reasons. They’re usually really bad, ill-considered, downright stupid reasons. When the hero and heroine reunite, he’s always surprised by the revelation of his fatherhood—the child is usually a few years old by that point—and oftentimes angry she kept it a secret. Well, the hero’s immediate reaction is understandable. However, the revelation then leads to the hero taking over the heroine’s life: he compels her to move in with him, and they usually and quickly wed. Cue the violins.

The second secret baby option occurs primarily in mafia romances, but may be found in other sub-genres, too. A one night stand or brief affair results in pregnancy. The mobster hero finds out … and now she and their soon-to-arrive offspring belong to him. He forcibly takes over her life, marries her, and basically sequesters her on his estate, showering her with luxury and withholding freedom. But that’s okay because he’s keeping her safe. Ugh.

Twists on the Secret Pregnancy Trope

Every so often, I’ll come across a twist on the tired old trope that intrigues me, if only because I want to see how the author handles it. In 2024, I came across a paranormal romance that had the pregnant heroine approaching the hero to inform him of his impending fatherhood and responsibilities. He dismisses her as a liar and gold digger. That’s so unusual for the genre (not real life) that it sparked my interest.

Another book I read last year had to do with a single mother heroine whose child was a teenager. She did attempt to locate and inform the hero, but he was nowhere to be found. Of course, the surprise reunion had its prickly moments with sufficient name calling and self-flagellation of guilt, but the twist was enough to hook my interest.

The secrecy trope has become so ubiquitous that I’ve nearly gotten to the point I immediately dismiss a book from consideration if the back cover blurb even mentions the word “secret.”

What romance tropes would you like to less of?

I saw a post on LinkedIn that tossed about the term “toxic masculinity,” and it got me to thinking.

First, what is toxic masculinity? Verywell Mind says this about it:

Many definitions of toxic masculinity appear in research as well as pop culture. Toxic masculinity generally has three core ideas.

1. “Toughness”: Men should be physically strong, emotionally callous, and behaviorally aggressive.
2. Antifeminity: Men should reject traditionally feminine behaviors such as showing emotion and accepting help.
3. Power: Men should work toward obtaining power and status (social and financial) and thus gain the respect of others.

A less authoritative source, theconversation.com, explains toxic masculinity this way: “The term ‘toxic masculinity’ points to a particular version of masculinity that is unhealthy for the men and boys who conform to it, and harmful for those around them. The phrase emphasises the worst aspects of stereotypically masculine attributes. Toxic masculinity is represented by qualities such as violence, dominance, emotional illiteracy, sexual entitlement, and hostility to femininity.”

So, where does one most frequenly find the most blatant examples of toxic masculinity?

(I’ll give you three guesses, and the first two don’t count.)

Romance.

That’s right. In the genre primarily written for women and by women, toxic masculinity accurately describes the vast majority of romantic heroes. Some of the genre’s most popular authors celebrate toxic masculinity, turning violent, domineering, womanizing “alphaholes” into objects of lustful fantasy.

The heroines for these males all too often tend to be their perfect complements: passive, helpless, hapless, submissive. It’s not a good look, but it sells and sells well.

If you’re reading a romance, regardless of sub-genre, pick up the book you’re reading and take a look at it. Which of the following may be applied to the hero?

• Extreme possessiveness
• Extreme jealousy
• Extreme protectiveness
• An adamant insistence on being obeyed and being right
• Promiscuity (before the heroine comes into his life, of course)
• Power (physical, financial, social, political)
• Violence.

I think women, in general, like these traits, just not taken to excess. A woman wants her man to be possessive of her, but not to the extent that she can’t have friends. She wants him to be jealous, thus reassuring her of her enduring appeal to him. She wants him to protect her against that which she cannot protect herself. She believes a man of commanding nature and certainty exemplifies his supreme, well-deserved confidence. His (former) promiscuity assures her that he’s skilled in bed and attractive to other women. His power means she need not fear penury or ostracization. His violence, she believes, will be exercised on her behalf and not against her.

We have all heard and seen toxic masculinity in action, particularly when the news breaks on yet another woman having been imprisoned, used, and abused by a man. In real life, excessive manifestation of these traits horrify us. These are not the men we bring home to meet the parents.

Romance glorifies that which we decry and makes it cater to our romantic fantasies. I think that, in a genre primarily written for women by women, it’s a cutting irony.

In romance we all love an alpha male, but how many of us would actually enjoy living with one?

Ironic, don’t you think?

Self-publishing has earned and continues to uphold its reputation for substandard books. This, unfortunately, arises from authors practicing false economies.

In traditional publishing (the model in which publishing companies pay authors to publish their books), the publishing company employs a variety of professionals, including different kinds of editors, book designers, graphic artists, and proofreaders. The company pays these professionals regular salaries, which makes the work of acquisition editors critical: they must select manuscripts that are the most likely to generate profit. This is why authors who have the great fortune to be accepted by traditional publishers earn such low royalties.

Authors who self-publish pay for the assistance of professionals out of their own pockets. As one’s own publisher, one bears the cost of professional services—and professional services aren’t cheap. The cash-strapped author who intends to self-publish then attempts to economize by doing as much as possible oneself.

This attempt may be best labeled as a false economy. Saving money before publication often results in substandard books that lose money. Here’s how that scenario works:

Author relies on editing software and himself for editing and publishes the book. Intrigued by the book’s description, Reader purchases the book and begins reading. Soon, errors large and small accumulate, leading to an overall disappointing experience. Reader notices misplaced or missing punctuation, misspelled words, malapropisms, faulty grammar, plot holes big enough to drive a car through, overuse of passive voice, disjointed transitions, unnecessary repetition, and inconsistencies.

Disappointed by the poor quality of the book, Reader decides not to purchase any other book by that author again. In addition, Reader posts a critical review of the book, warning potential readers not to buy it.

In short, the false economy of saving money by doing everything oneself costs authors a lot of money in lost future sales. Unfortunately, there’s no way to calculate the immensity of lost revenue because the author doesn’t know how many potential readers would otherwise have purchased the book.

Think of it this way: If you purchase a poorly made, defective product from a company, would you be inclined to purchase another similar product from that company again? Probably not. Because that company did not invest in quality, it lost what could have been a repeat customer. In fact, you might also advise the people in your social network (friends, family, acquaintances) not to purchase that product due to its poor quality.

This is why I say editing has a hidden ROI. The author cannot directly link purchase of a book to the quality of well-edited, well-presented content, but that quality does affect whether a reader becomes a repeat customer. A disappointed reader has no incentive to repeat the experience.

An author’s best customers are repeat customers, which is why series fiction tends to do better than one-off stories. When a reader enjoys the story and the quality meets the reader’s expectations, then the reader is more likely to purchase the next book in the series and even investigate and purchase from the author’s backlist of other books.

A book’s cover is its most important marketing piece, but a stellar cover can’t make up for poor quality content.

To give your book its best chance of success:

1. Have the manuscript professionally edited. This may entail multiple levels of editing and multiple editors. The three basic levels of editing are, in order of sequence, developmental editing, line editing, and copy editing.
2. Have the book professionally designed. The presentation of your story directly affects readers’ experience with it. If you’re not expert in page layout, hire a pro.
3. Have the cover professionally designed. The cover is your book’s most important marketing piece, so it behooves you to have a cover that both aligns with genre expectations as well as stands out as unqiue and intriguing.
4. Have the entire package proofread. A proofreader will review the front and back covers (including blurb) as well as the content and design of the interior pages. This is the final step of quality control and not time to make substantive changes.

Remember, professional services aren’t cheap, so save for the expense like you’d save for any other major purchase. Some editors will negotiate reduced services to accommodate a restricted budget. Other editors will accept payment plans. It doesn’t hurt to ask. If nothing else, payment by credit card enables you to make payments after paying the editor(s) in full.

Don’t complain about self-published books’ collective reputation for poor quality. Do something about it by raising the quality of your books one step at a time.

If you have a manuscript you want to publish and need thorough, detailed sentence-level editing (and book design) service, then contact Hen House Publishing at (937) 964-5592 or henhousepublishing.com. Don’t lose out on all those future sales by practicing false economies.