On Genre, Rebels, and Runaway Characters

I’m diving straight in this week with something that’s been uppermost in my thoughts: genre.

I’ve always struggled to “write to market”, even back when I was writing short fiction for women’s magazines. You’d think a strict word count would keep me on the straight and narrow. But no. Being a pantser—though I prefer free‑writer—I could blame my characters, but that would be dishonest coming from someone with the power of life or death over these lovely, complex people.

The truth is, we’re equally responsible. They wander off my non‑existent plan, and I let them. I follow, intrigued by the direction the story takes. And I don’t want to stop them. Their depth, complexity, and free‑will drive the plot far better than any outline I could impose.

A recent conversation with a lovely reader made me think about genre more deeply than ever before. They told me they never normally read romance—not even started one—until they found The Earl’s Daughter. That made me wonder what drew them in.

It certainly doesn’t open in a genre‑typical way. We meet the hero, yes, but not as he encounters the girl who will capture his heart. Instead, with incredible cruelty, his father is banishing him. Not exactly the standard historical‑romance meet‑cute. I’d genuinely love to hear if anyone knows of a historical romance that begins at a similar emotional pitch.

Reflecting on that, I’ve decided to say it plainly: I’m not just a historical romance writer. Yes, there’s always a love story at the heart, but it’s surrounded by multiple threads, themes, and complexities. In The Earl’s Daughter, several parallel stories swirl around the couple. One reviewer even said it could have been three books. Ah well. You can’t please all the people all the time, and at least they gave it three stars.

Maybe it’s because long before I attempted a full‑length novel, I devoured complex stories by great writers past and present—books with layered plots that would be impossible to squeeze into today’s genre‑dominant world. So it’s no surprise I find it difficult to simplify my work into a single box.

And that led me to a bigger question: who actually benefits from strict genre and “write to market” rules?

It’s true that if you’re a fan of a particular type of fiction, genre helps you find what you want. It helps retailers sort books and empower sales. But it also locks readers into a narrow groove. Only the brave or the inquisitive stumble across something different. Over time, reading lives can become narrower.

And that’s where I stop, because I suddenly realised how long this was becoming.