Genre and Gender: Grappling With the Awkward Question of “Women’s” Fiction
By Barbara Linn Probst | October 19, 2022 |
I’m guessing that there are others like me, who have struggled to find a “genre name” that fits what they’ve written.
Some genre labels seem pretty straightforward. Fantasy. Mystery. Memoir. “Young Adult” is defined by its audience, “western” by its setting, “historical fiction” by its era. Yet there’s a huge chunk of contemporary fiction, like mine, that doesn’t meet any of those criteria and thus seems to fall, by default, into the awkward category of “women’s fiction.”
Women’s fiction is, in fact, the box I check when I fill out questionnaires or apply for awards, yet I’ve never liked the term and wish I didn’t have to use it. Nonetheless, I’ve accepted the label, not wanting to cause trouble or appear hypocritical, especially when (happily) accepting awards in that very category. No one can have it both ways—criticizing a label, except when it benefits them.
I still don’t want to be hypocritical, but I think it’s time to raise the question. Publisher’s Marketplace already has, recently dropping women’s fiction as a genre, and even the Women’s Fiction Writers Association is planning to address the question as it nears its tenth anniversary.
This raises another question, of course—whether we need a new word for the same category, or whether the category itself is flawed.
First of all, what does the term women’s fiction actually mean?
Those who embrace the term will say that women’s fiction is defined by the nature of its narrative arc—that is, by a story line that depicts an internal, emotional journey—rather than by the gender of the author, protagonist, or intended audience. According to the Women’s Fiction Writers Association:
“the driving force of women’s fiction is the protagonist’s journey toward a more fulfilled self.”
Period. Thus, a work of women’s fiction can—in theory—be written by a man, have a man as its central character, and be read chiefly by men.
Okay. If we set the notion of gender aside, as part of the definition, and define the genre of women’s fiction by the protagonist’s internal arc— it’s clear enough, I guess, although it seems like an awfully broad definition, encompassing much of our great literature.
But, again, what does the word women have to do with it?
It does seem odd to use gender in the label for something that purports to have nothing to do with gender! It’s confusing and misleading—especially since gendered labels are being replaced, more and more, by gender-neutral ones. Stewardess has become flight attendant; waitress has become server; and mailman has become letter carrier. That’s seems respectful and right.
Moreover, there’s no corresponding “men’s fiction”—nor is there “women’s art” or “women’s music.” It seems reasonable to ask why writers are the only ones who use a gendered term, and whether we should continue to do so.
My discomfort with the notion of women’s fiction label has grown stronger over the years, even though my latest novel, like its predecessors, has been deemed a work of women’s fiction. Yet it could just as easily be categorized by its setting, theme, or the fact that it’s a love story.
Aha, you may be thinking—that’s because it’s not women’s fiction; it’s a romance!
But it’s not. According to the Romance Writers of America:
“Two basic elements comprise every romance novel: a central love story and an emotionally satisfying and optimistic ending.”
“Emotionally satisfying” is a subjective term, since what satisfies one reader may leave another reader annoyed, puzzled, or just plain angry. Remember Bradley Cooper as Pat Solitano in Silver Linings Playbook, throwing A Farewell to Arms out the window because the ending made him furious?
It’s the “optimistic ending” that defines a romance novel—in other words, a “happy ending.” No matter how many obstacles, arguments, misunderstandings, wrong choices, and estrangements take place during the course of the story, the lovers are together at the end. Without revealing details of the plot, I’ll simply say that my new book does not meet the criteria for a romance.
Okay. Maybe it’s “literary fiction?”
“Literary” is an elusive word, defined as often by what it is not than by what it is. According to Reedsy:
“Literary fiction is a category of novels that emphasize style, character, and theme over plot. Literary fiction is often defined in contrast to genre fiction and commercial fiction, which involve certain tropes and expectations for the storyline; literary fiction has no such plot-based hallmarks.”
In other words, literary fiction is not based on plot. It “emphasizes” (a vague word) style, character and theme. But those emphases are not unique to literary fiction. Humor certainly emphasizes style; fantasy, thrillers, and westerns make use of specific kinds of characters. And don’t great works of literature still have terrific plots?
Reedsy tells us that literary fiction is considered to be a “prestige” category, but “literary fiction is a broad and diverse genre, so it’s pretty difficult to track down an exact definition.”
Well, that doesn’t help.
How about “upmarket fiction,” then? Per Reedsy, again:
“Upmarket fiction is a hybrid of literary and commercial fiction. The term refers to titles with crossover appeal: books that address universal, elevated themes while remaining thematically and stylistically accessible to the general public.”
Master Class offers a similar definition:
“Upmarket fiction is a subgenre of fiction books that incorporates elements of page-turning mainstream fiction, while still showcasing the more nuanced prose and complex character development more often found in literary fiction. Upmarket fiction is often referred to as book club fiction as these books are often selected for book clubs.”
“Book club fiction” is another term without a clear definition, other than books chosen by book clubs. That’s the crudest sort of tautology—and besides, book clubs read all sorts of books, including nonfiction!
If you feel like you’re spinning in circles—me too. I was ready to resign myself to the gendered label I dislike so much, simply because there was none better. And then, to my surprise and delight, I found a genre that fit my book. I discovered that I’d written a “literary romance.”
At least, according to the New York Times. No, my book hasn’t been reviewed by the Times, but it does meet all the criteria for a “literary romance,” as identified by Dan Saltzstein in his analysis of 125 years of Times book reviews.
A “literary romance” differs from a “romance” because it has more nuance and ambiguity. In fact, few of the novels summarized in this curated collection of “Literary Romance Novels” would meet the definition or a “romance” offered by the Romance Writers of America.
Rather, the stories cited in this essay are filled with destiny, passion, tragedy, sacrifice, heartbreak, and lives changed forever—most of the elements on Dan Saltzstein’s list. A well-defined genre, in other words, yet one I’d never heard of.
Here are the nine core features, gleaned from Saltzstein’s perusal of reviews, that constitute a “great literary romance:”
a couple … who are “dynamically matched” … with discord or conflict … that leads to suffering … and often to tragedy, including death … or sacrifice … in a story of passion … grounded in the “real” world … with a plot twist that we never saw coming
It turned out that I’d ticked every one of Saltzstein’s boxes with my latest novel, without knowing anything about this list of criteria! My story belonged somewhere, after all.
My satisfaction was short-lived, however. As I soon discovered, “literary romance” isn’t on any of the genre lists I have to choose from when I fill out those questionnaires and applications.
Back to square one. Again, I’m stuck with a default label that makes me deeply uncomfortable—because my work is not horror, thriller, fantasy, rom-com, historical fiction, mystery, memoir.
My solution, for the moment, is to say that I write “upmarket contemporary fiction.”
Yet my questions remain.
- Why can’t stories set in the present and framed around the search for self, intimacy, fulfillment—with plots and character arcs—simply be called contemporary fiction, the same way that books set in the past are “simply” called historical fiction?
- Why are we still using a label based on a bifurcation of literature according to a limited and outdated notion of gender—while also insisting that the label doesn’t have anything to do with the gender of the writer, reader, or protagonist? Shouldn’t the name of a category reflect its meaning? And if it doesn’t, shouldn’t we change the name?
- Or is the term women’s fiction useful, nonetheless, allowing women writers to claim an important place in the literary landscape? Would abandoning the term mean the loss of an identity we’ve worked hard to attain?
What do you think, WU community?
Barbara (she/her) is an author of contemporary women’s fiction living on an historic dirt road in New York’s Hudson Valley. Each of her acclaimed novels (Queen of the Owls, 2020; The Sound Between the Notes, 2021; and The Color of Ice, 2022) was a medalist for prestigious national awards, including the Sarton Award for Contemporary Fiction, the Independent Book Publishers Award, the Hawthorne Prize, and the Nautilus Award for Fiction. Her fourth novel, Roll the Sun Across the Sky, launches in May 2025 and has received stellar advance praise. Barbara has also published more than 80 articles on the craft of writing and the writing life. She has a PhD in Clinical Social Work and has been a therapist, teacher, researcher, and advocate for out-of-the-box kids and their families. When not writing, she’s a serious amateur pianist and a traveler to spots from Iceland to the Himalayas. Learn more on her website .
[coffee]
P.S. In case you missed the TAKE FIVE on Sunday the 16th, the contest to win a bag of super-cool swag remains open through Friday!! Ping back to https://staging-writerunboxed.kinsta.cloud/2022/10/16/take-5-with-barbara-linn-probst-the-color-of-ice/
I think ‘relationship fiction” works for the genre, as relationships are often the trigger for the protagonist’s growth, and it works no matter what gender the protag identifies as.
“Romance” of any sort is definitely not the right name! Romance readers have very strong opinions of what a romance is, and publishers and authors defy those reader expectations at their peril. It’s more than just the happy ending that makes a story a romance, it’s the primary focus of the story. Is the core question of the story “Will the relationship work out?” (romance) or is it “What changes and personal growth in the main character will this relationship catalyse?” (relationship fiction).
Romance also tends to treat the characters in the central romantic relationship as equal protagonists, while IMO relationship fiction can have dual protagonists but usually focuses more on how the relationship affects one main character.
I agree that “relationship” conflicts are often the catalyst for the story (whether parent-child, sibling, or partner), yet not always! For example, in my second novel, the trigger was a second chance at a career/artistic passion that the protagonist thought she’d set aside forever. Relationships were affected by her choices, but they were not the root of the story. I’m still searching, and thank you for joining me on this journey!
I think that women’s fiction is different from romance fiction. Women’s fiction, to my mind, is literary fiction (set in the real world – past or present), told from the female perspective (and therefore, probably not written by men). Romance fiction is just that – about a fictional romance or relationship.
Such clear and elegant definitions, Davida—and yet, what is a “female” perspective,” and isn’t it as varied as a “human perspective?” The more I grapple with this question, the thornier it gets! And we haven’t even touched on the whole assumption of a binary division between men and women, which underlies the Women’s Fiction label … time to open up the whole subject, and who knows where it will take us?
In MG and YA, contemporary is a perfectly acceptable description. I have plenty of discomfort around women’s fiction as a category. Is this a genre that’s unsuitable for men? Or, like a chick flick, to be minimized? You raise an interesting question about claiming identity. I hope to see lively discussion. I’m undecided, but leaning toward no gender distinction.
Thanks for weighing in, Chris. I also feel that there is a whiff of something patronizing in the term “women’s” fiction—as in: “you girls go and write your little books,” while the overall field of literature is still owned by men.
Isn’t fiction written by women (or about women) just as varied as fiction written by and about men? Or is there something important about claiming a piece of the landscape (the other point of view)?
Ugh! I keep finding myself with more and more questions! Let’s keep talking about this!
Kicking the hornet’s nest this morning, I see. :) I agree with everything you’ve written here. All of your discomforts with the label have been mine as well (with the added discomfort of being labeled Christian Fiction simply because my books have been put out by a Christian publisher). I recently saw another post/article about Women’s Fiction that had a bulleted list of criteria/description and felt that perhaps one or two of my books really and truly fit snugly (for instance, All That We Carried, which is a sister story with the requisite emotional journey arc). But others…don’t?
Just this week I decided to own the Upmarket Commercial (though not always contemporary!) label when it comes to the industry, but when talking to readers I still struggle to define what I write easily and usually resort to Book Club fiction. However, your discovery of Literary Romance is intriguing to me. Some (but not all) of my books would likely fit there.
I find defining my writing to be nearly as difficult as defining my politics. It’s a novel-by-novel, issue-by-issue thing. The consistency for my writing is in the voice, themes, and (so far) the general setting.
The coming year is sure to be interesting as this discussion continues (especially in WFWA). :)
Thank you so much for these thoughts, Erin! I saw the same essay that you are referring to, and it seemed to be warning us against relying on the cliches and tropes that are found in so much of so-called Women’s Fiction. I like your term Upmarket Commercial … although that has its own questions, of course. E.g.: where is the border between literary and commercial? Why can’t a book be good literature and still make money? And yes, so wise of you to note that it is really a novel-by-novel! question!
To me, it seems that the term women’s fiction minimizes its importance in literature for the same reasons you elucidate in your examples of stewardess being turned into flight attendant. Being female is still considered not equal to. It also suggest that male readers will not appreciate the genre. It’s fiction. It doesn’t need to be described as being owned by or delegated to women. That said… I like it.
There’s the dilemma, no? It’s all fiction, so why suggest that some fiction “belongs to women” and some to men? And yet, we are used to the term, maybe even fond of it … and there’s no option, not yet. Thank you so much for weighing in!
Hear, hear!
Barbara, many congratulations on your new novel. I read Queen of Owls and LOVED It. I’m about to sign a contract with She Writes Press – and I’d noticed you as a fellow author of…..Womens Fiction.
You raise such an interesting topic. I’ve struggled for many years with this classification, in all the ways you have struggled. I’ve gone back and forth many times.
Currently I believe that women and men experience the world in different ways. Yes, this is driven by societal gender roles.
But importantly the ability to carry a child or the experience of so doing is what drives this different experience.
Many women feel the challenge of juggling parenting with work more intensely than men do. Not all. Whether we do it well or badly it seems ominipresent in womens’ experience of life. (even if some men are more engaged parents)
To me, celebrating the different approaches to living makes the world a richer more diverse place. All is good! It’s not that one is better than the other. We need both!
I agree that upmarket contemporary fiction is a term that non-authors ie the general public understand better than womens fiction.
Best of luck with your new launch. You are going gangbusters!
“I believe that women and men experience the world in different ways.”
This.
We struggle with different expectations, roles, and despite what the world might say about men and women being interchangeable, it’s simply not true. We can have similar struggles with the work-life balance, but motherhood brings about different challenges than fatherhood. My mother tried to be both mother and father to me (due to an absent father) but it was impossible. She was a wonderful mother and I had other father figures in my life (never enough; I missed my father terribly). The label of women’s fiction helps me to find the books I enjoy, about women’s particular struggles from her POV (it doesn’t matter if a man writes it).
Autumn above coined “relationship fiction.” And that could certainly work. But it’s too broad a category that would also include father-son or father-daughter or the focus on men’s relationships with their wives or lovers from the man’s POV. I don’t know why there isn’t a men’s fiction as a counterpart to the women’s fiction. Regardless, I think we should embrace women’s fiction for what it’s meant to be without muddying the waters due to the current state of the world that doesn’t seem to know what a woman is.
Our own Julia Whelan has a scene in her book Thank You for Listening about the distinction between women’s fiction and romance. It’s funny and spot on. Gotta have the HEA in romance.
Thank you so much for all of your comments! And yes, I am listed as a women’s fiction author … because it’s been the best available label. Interestingly, before I turned to fiction, I wrote a book for parents of out-of-the-box kids called WHEN THE LABELS DON’T FIT so clearly this is a subject I’ve grappled with for a long time. And I do agree with you that women face challenges in our culture that men (generally) do not, although that is evolving … such a complex topic!
I’d like to think we’re ready to remove a label, which even if it might signal something meaningful to some it’s both incomplete and exclusionary. My sense is authors want their works to belong somewhere sensible, desirable, and easily identifiable after all the effort.
As a reader I prefer more distinct categories—helps me navigate a bookstore faster. Say ‘contemporary’ though, and my mind is thinking about architecture first, then I end up dreaming about being back inside an equally dark and light-filled Frank Lloyd Wright house. My point being association is everything with names, and you might guess I can prefer dramatic, dark, fantastical pieces, thus favoring a mental path to architecture over fully taking the lid off contemporary fiction. In any case, I very much appreciated your thoughtful analysis and hope solutions are drawn to more people’s satisfaction—not to mention, having clarity is much more relaxing!
Thank you for such good thoughts, Susan! I love your point that “authors want their works to belong somewhere sensible, desirable, and easily identifiable.” That helps readers, who area browsing in bookstores, and (maybe) agents who need to make quick decisions about whether a manuscript fits the list they are interested in curating and/or will appeal to what they know editors are looking for. So it becomes a self-sustaining cycle that can be hard to break free from. Yet times are changing … and the solutions may take a while to surface!
Barbara, this is a wonderful post and you’ve presented the situation with great insight. Labels are limiting no matter how we look at it. My books and short stories are in the supernatural mystery category because that identifies what the readers should expect from my stories. That seems fair, right? Recently I decided to write a traditional fairy tale (novelette), which was just accepted for publication. But that reaches into a different readership if we look at this from a book marketing POV. I wrote it because it was an untold story in me, not because I wanted to enter a new genre. What do you think of crossing the genre for writers? Marketing folks tell me cross genre novels dilute the readership. Good for the writer creatively but not good for the career? Thank you for such a stimulating post today.
Another important aspect of the discussion, Paula! As you say, readers think of an author as someone who writes a particular kind of book, and may resist a book in a new genre. That’s one of the reasons I admire Paula McLain, who took a chance by writing a thriller when her readers were used to thinking of her as someone writing historical fiction. A marketing perspective and a creative perspective aren’t always in sync, as you suggest. So I guess there are times when we have to choose, risk, and see what happens ….
I have the same challenge with paranormal romance and supernatural romance which I feel tend to be more horror-based or erotic fiction with demonic characters. I write conscious love stories based on historical characters from famous paintings that transcend time, but straight ‘time travel’ misrepresents that as well. ‘Time travel’ does work for a middle-grade series I wrote but not my ‘artful ghost stories’ that are equally mystical and literary. ‘Women’s fiction’ doesn’t fit even though the stories unfold with women as the main characters. ‘Fantasy’ conjures dragons and swords, so my books are not a match there. Perhaps ‘alternate fanciful historical romance’. Too long. For a while I used ‘art history in a ghost story’… not the best. I begin with documented art history and expand into the playful mystery of ‘what-if’. I prefer ‘love story’ over ‘romance’. That said, the love story is mostly subtext underneath a creative biography. My ‘ghosts’ serve to encourage life and not drag chains across anything remotely like the floor of a haunted house. Perhaps historical time travel? but by definition time travel is paranormal. haunted is a loaded word, but I did write a book with the log-line: the memoir of a child ghost with amnesia.
Ah, thank you for pointing out that the “label” problem isn’t confined to so-called Women’s Fiction. For sure, some books are more easily categorized than others. That has nothing to do with their merit, but simply with how closely they happen to fit with recognizable criteria. And why not create our own labels, if none fit, just as you have coined the evocative term “historical time travel!”
I’m so glad you wrote about this! This topic drives me nuts. People often ask me “what kind” of books I write, and the answer should be “women’s fiction” except I HATE that categorization. When Jeffrey Eugenides or Jonathan Franzen write novels about families exploring their interior lives, their books are not called “women’s fiction.” I say I write novels about the human condition on a small scale, something like “domestic fiction,” although I don’t mean to imply my characters are spending all day cleaning house. It’s a constant struggle to find the right terminology. Thank you for this thoughtful post!
We are of like minds, Kathleen! “Novels about the human condition.” I love that! I tell people that I write stories about what it means to be human. The question of scale is an interesting one. The scale may be small (e.g., a single person’s life, or a family’s struggle) but its relevance is universal. Write on!!
Hello Barbara, and thanks for your research. The Guardian newspaper says that women read (and I assume buy) eighty percent of the fiction in the UK and the U.S. I also remember seeing that what readers choose to read divides along “party lines”: men read male authors, women read books written by women. Obviously, there are lots of exceptions, but perhaps the question for writers to ask themselves doesn’t focus on labels. Maybe the question should be: who am I writing for? When I conjure up my ideal reader that every book marketer tells me to think about, what do I see?
Ah yes, the question of whether we buy books written by authors whose gender we identify with … Personally, I don’t care one way or the other; it’s the story. And of course, gender is increasingly fluid, no matter what the market researchers tell us about consumer choices! I think we are seeing an evolving landscape …. let’s revisit this topic in a year! Thanks for commenting!!
Barbara, in the last 7 months or so, I’ve read books by Margaret Atwood, Louise Erdrich, Elizabeth Strout, Emily St. John Mandel, Edwidge Danticat and Sara Levine, as well as a clutch of them by male creatures. I’m not virtue signaling my ecumenical reading tastes, but just reinforcing what you said above: “It’s the story.”
The categorization stuff, as your piece and the comments prove, is cuckoo-making. But thank god for good writing, from men, women and those who identify as neither or both. (Not sure if I want to champion books written by AI yet though.)
Well said! Good writing. Period. Why is it so complicated? Thanks, Tom!
Who invented the category of ‘women’s fiction’? The answer to that might explain the motivations for its rise. I suspect it was driven by women and marketed by savvy publishers who identified a niche for women readers who craved stories that reflected women’s unique journeys. The category was created within my lifetime, yet historical titles were dropped into it. Kendra Winchester assigns PAMELA there, though it was written centuries earlier. Now that traditional genders have become ‘outdated’ (a claim I would dispute, Barbara) women want the label dropped because they now claim it’s misogynistic (see Liz Kay/Kendra Winchester articles). It’s not. In fact, by separating out stories for women written largely by women, it showed a deep distrust and hostility towards men, and created unnecessary divisiveness between genders. Dropping the label does not reflect an advancement of thought but a return to embedding stories by women about women into general fiction where they rightly belonged in the first place.
So well said, Monica!! “Separating out stories for women written largely by women, it showed a deep distrust and hostility towards men, and created unnecessary divisiveness between genders.” Although perhaps I would say “reinforced,” rather than “created.” And yes, perhaps it’s time to “return to embedding stories by women about women into general fiction where they rightly belonged in the first place.”
Another way to think about this is to ask whether we want broader and more generic categories (like “fiction”) or more specific categories. Each has its advantages and disadvantages. Thank you so much for contributing to this discussion!!
While I very much dislike the name and always have, I see the Women’s Fiction category as a marketing construct. Between its object-centered covers or depiction of a sole woman looking away from the camera, and its pastel covers, it signals a novel centered around domestic relationships where the main struggle is with the protagonist’s acceptance of him/herself, and then the outward changes they force as they forge a new identity. At least, that’s what it means to me.
As a huge romance reader, “literary romance” isn’t a label I’d recognize. If pressed to guess what it stood for, I’d expect a central love story which ends with a couple’s happy-for-now, with elevated prose, themes, and characterization. Laura Kinsale’s work would fit into this category.
From the description of your book, it would belong on the shelf with a Nicholas Sparks. He does not write romance, but he does write love stories. That’s a genre used by Robert McKee and Shawn Coyne and allows for the plot/struggle to revolve around a love story but the couple’s ending to be ambiguous or tragic. (Remove the love story and the plot collapses.) There’s no shelf in my local bookstore for “love stories.” Their packaging and shelving revolves more around the type of readership they are expected to attract. So The Fault in Our Stars looks like a YA and is shelved there. A Sparks novel looks like a women’s fiction cover and is shelved in commercial fiction, but never in romance. And so on.
I never in a zillion years considered that I was writing a romance, but always felt that I was writing a love story—so thank you for your comments! Mostly, it was just my search for SOMETHING other than women’s fiction that led me to the term “literary romance.” However, as you note, since it’s not a term that people are familiar with, it’s not very useful! The utility of a label is that it is a mental shortcut that helps people make choices … on the other hand, that’s how stereotypes develop. As Alice famously put it: “Curiouser and curiouser!”
Oh, I know this dance. But toss in genre. “Upmarket near-future science fiction with relationships.” I was part of the Women’s Fiction organization but rapidly realized that because I write in genre–science fiction and fantasy–I was explicitly excluded from any of their competitions and opportunities as well. Which ticks me off because why *can’t* you have those elements in genre stories as well?
One of my latest, THE ENDURING LEGACY, had a reviewer comment that there wasn’t much immediate action beyond the relationship of the lead couple because the story spanned thirteen years–and yet there was a computer worm that managed to erase memory of its existence, high-tech ag, and some other stuff going on. It clearly possesses an sf element, possibly enough of one that mainstream commercial readers might not choose to read (oh dear God to read how some people got totally freaked out by the supernatural elements in Craig Johnson’s latest Longmire, HELL AND BACK, when it’s pretty clear it’s the culmination of a story arc from the beginning of the series. Pretty telling.).
I’m not about to drop my science fiction and fantasy work and switch to contemporary, either. I don’t LIKE writing contemporary sans genre. I’m semi-okay with reading it, though half the time I don’t finish and switch to something with stronger genre elements, whether those end up being sff or romance.
So where do I find my readers? I know readers like me are out there, who want the interplay of relationships against a fantastic or futuristic setting. But where, pray tell, do they lurk????
I hear you, Joyce! There is definitely a growing cross-genre or hybrid-genre community among WRITERS, but the question becomes more difficult for READERS, who tend to use labels to help them scan and sift through the seemingly-endless number of books out there. One can’t blame them, because how else to find books that they would potentially like? And oh I am hoping to hear from an agent in WU community about now!!
Thanks, Barbara, for bringing up this important question. I have very strong opinions on this label for literature, and some of my opinions contradict others. I’m conflicted about it because I feel the label fundamentally diminishes women’s writing. But publishing is all about marketing, and marketing requires labeling. Women’s fiction is basically a sub-category of commercial fiction (including upmarket commercial fiction), and the label deliberately points to fiction likely to be enjoyed by women readers. But that, too diminishes our scope as readers. This is one of the reasons I write WF with a fantasy twist. I can market my books under other categories and avoid the narrow targeting and identification that I’m writing fiction only to be read by women. That said, can anyone come up with a better term? It would be a great help. Things are indeed changing.
Yup, you’ve brought up a super important point, Rachel. Marketing. Marketing depends on labeling, exactly as you say. We are told, again and again, to market to our target audience of readers. If they are women, then we market our books as women’s fiction. A vicious circle! Guys, please weigh in here!!
I have settled for Upmarket Contemporary Fiction. There is romance, a few twists, a little mystery, but more than anything a woman’s internal change.
Yep, that’s what I think I will be using. But the problem is that Upmarket Contemporary is not a category when one is applying for an award, for example … so I hold my nose and check Women’s Fiction. For now.
Simply because a novel takes place in some past era (my WIP is set in 1955,) does it earn the label historical? My story is mostly a nostalgic look at a small town. A bit of romance, some ups and down in the lives of the many people inhabiting my fictional world. I might have to settle for WF.’
That’s an interesting question—not simply because of the date (and yup, even the 1960s is now considered “historical fiction”) but also because of the narrative arc. If it is primarily a story of one individual’s inner, emotional journey, then (as of today) it could be deemed Women’s Fiction. But if it is a group portrait of the dynamics of many people and life in a small town back in another era, with no central protagonist, then it probably wouldn’t fit the current definition of WF. Hmmm … is there a word for this kind of “group” portrait? Such novels were common in the past … back when these genre labels weren’t such a big deal.
The term episodic fits my WIP. The story lines weave together at the end. But I don’t think that is considered genre. Maybe general fiction could be its hitch.
That should read Nitch.
Barbara, kind of you to see my post…Today on Writer Unboxed: an ongoing argument about defining or labeling fiction written by women. Is it Women’s Fiction? And if it is labeled that way, does it mean men would not enjoy the story, the journey of the main character? Many responses to those questions. I think we need to take a look at screenplays, films, even dramatic series while attempting to answer this question…and it isn’t an easy one. Most works of fiction for screen, TV and print contain strong female characters. But the label, Women’s Fiction, does feel like ONLY women would enjoy the read. I believe things are changing and the new film TAR, with Cate Blanchett, could stand as a signpost for that change. Blanchett plays a symphony conductor. There are not many women in that role, but again–that is also changing. And for that role, and her other films, Blanchett is getting much praise. She is amazing. I think a novel written by a woman, that is not a romance, should earn a different label. Any opinions? And yes, Rachel Dacus, Kathleen McCleary and Barbara have all commented on my post and so far six people were interested in the topic!!
What a great suggestion, Beth, to look at screenplays and the world of film and TV, which are also storytelling media.. I don’t recall ever seeing a Women’s TV series! One could argue that “everyone knows” that, say, Firefly Lane or even The Queen’s Gambit are “women’s shows”—or are they? What about Homeland? Great point, and this is a really helpful comparison, more so than my previous references to art and music!
I don’t know if we need even more categories, but I’ve been thinking about this a lot. Women’s fiction tends to focus on the character arc, as opposed to a lot of commercial fiction (think Lee Child & James Patterson) which are plot-based without much of an internal character arc. Maybe we need something like a “character-based fiction” which could encompass subgenres (historical/contemporary, science fiction, thriller, etc.). One of my problem’s with women’s fiction is most readers haven’t heard of the term. It would be nice to have a term they immediately understood. Thank you for writing about this.
I think a LOT of us have been thinking about this! And, to complicate matters, every solution has its issues! “Character” and “plot” are not mutually exclusive, so a lot of great literature could fit equally well into both boxes! That’s the problem with any sort of binary system, I think. As a reader, I probably look for “book club” fiction, because that signals to me that it is a bit deeper and probably addresses issues in a more nuanced way. Maybe that’s the best option. I am still turning in circles LOL but thank you for weighing in!
That’s an interesting perspective, because a lot of “book club fiction” kind of leaves me cold.
I’ve struggled with debate over whether my fantasy novels are Young Adult or not. They’re suitable for younger people content-wise, but they’re definitely not aimed at a fourteen-year-old’s vocabulary range. Some readers seem to think I should simplify my vocabulary; others think I should add sex and violence. I’m sure there’s a readership for my kind of book out there (in fact I know it) but it’s hard to classify.
My next project coming through the pipeline is a historical comedic mystery. That’s going to be fun…
“Historic comic mystery!” Sounds like an awesome new genre! Best of luck!
I’ll weigh in.
The Women’s Fiction Writers Association has itself struggled with a definition for this category, and whether a label is a good idea in the first place. Should “women’s fiction” reflect literary quality, emotional focus, journey? Should it be more sweeping and inclusive? My own suggestion to WFWA takes the sweeping approach: “Fiction by and about the lives of women.”
I like that simple umbrella, but on the other hand it makes room for romance and cozy mystery with female sleuths. And, really, doesn’t a category label have an automatically pejorative effect? Mystery and romance novels, after all, aren’t nominated for the National Book Award or the Pulitzer. Does the word “women’s” somehow let men off the hook, making it okay to dismiss novels in this realm as somehow “genre”, mere “relationship” fiction, another (if maybe better) level of silly? Who wants that?
Categories do serve a purpose. On the retail level, it’s convenient for consumers. Easy way to find what you want. That said, Horror and YA fantasy often get their own bookstore sections whereas Women’s Fiction is usually shelved with Romance or (general) Fiction, so what help is that? For writers, category can bring pride, support, community and respect. RWA was formed to turn romance writers from joke to industry power. The MWA’s Edgar Awards are a prestige success and sales booster. Ditto the Hugo Awards and more. No one would argue that those organizations–whatever their internal political dramas–have ultimately hurt the literature that they extoll.
The agonizing over whether the term “women’s fiction” is good or bad or what it is, is to me reminiscent of the internal struggles of feminism as a movement. There are many voices, many needs, many agendas, much conflict over purpose, ideals, goals and methods. Is Women’s Fiction in a second wave? Cripe, who knows and, honestly, why fight about it? What everyone wants, I believe, including me, is for fiction focused on women’s lives, whatever the story style or literary intent, to be accorded respect and be taken seriously: not dismissed, not sequestered, not nailed into a box where it can be safely ignored.
Ask me, there is one factor that will ensure that result more than any other: great stories skillfully told in unique voices and with universal impact. When readers in general can read a given novel with appreciation if not awe, then the goal of gaining respect is accomplished. No one speaks pejoratively. Everyone is transported and transformed as we wish them to be. Labels falls away. Authors rise. Literature is enriched. The world is better off.
Why not, then, let the label Women’s Fiction simply help in the limited ways that it can: as a retail signifier and a community support? The general reading public doesn’t pay much mind to the issues being discussed here today. Readers read and are moved not by labels or literary politics. Once a book’s cover is opened, they are nowhere but in the story. (We hope.) That’s where we want them and where to put our focus. The rest is merely the insider stuff that is entertaining to debate but, in the end, not all that important. Labels don’t last long. Novels do. Just ask Jane Austen.
Thanks for weighing in, Don, and I hope you will allow me to push back a bit. (No surprise!)
Yes, once the book is opened, if it’s a great story, the labels fall away and the reader is simply in the story world. Of course. Nonetheless, the questions I’ve raised remain real to many women writers who still have to deal with the fact that there is no corresponding “men’s fiction”—an observation that may seem trivial (to a man), but isn’t. Back in the nineteenth century, there was something called “women’s art,” and women were only allowed to paint domestic scenes. But the art world moved on. Women can paint whatever they want now, and do. Same for music, film-making, etc. No one bifurcates other art forms. Shouldn’t the world of literature catch up?
Despite the un-gendering of other terms, the “women” label in fiction remains. For example, agents explicitly list “women’s fiction” among the genres they will consider, so that’s how we have to frame our work, whether we like it or not. We can’t query an agent or editor and say, “I have a great work of universal and enduring power.”
I don’t mean to sound angry (or maybe I do). But think the questions I’ve raised are real ones. Saying that great writing will transcend all labels doesn’t address it. As you say, categories serve a purpose; they’re shortcuts for perception and are found in every domain of human life (food, weather, and so on). It’s time to reconsider the categories we use for literature. IMHO.
“What everyone wants, I believe, including me, is for fiction focused on women’s lives, whatever the story style or literary intent, to be accorded respect and be taken seriously”. Jane would so agree! And yet, she did not write in a style that anyone had invented until she did it, which may be why she wasn’t taken seriously for a long time. Perhaps because her pen name was “A Lady”? Words are political, but art lasts, I do agree. I so appreciate your invoking Jane.
These categories are created by booksellers. They do help shoppers focus in some ways, but end up forcing square pegs into—well, you know. Maybe we could go to a color-coded Dewey decimal system for fiction. Or how about a bar code on the book spine, and when it’s scanned it produces a huge blurb? Or maybe Amazon and Kobo and Barnes & Etc. could all have “librarians”—not salespeople—who know what they’re doing, and you could talk to them.
Oops. Past my bedtime.
Thanks, Michael! Interesting to compare the library categories, the bookseller categories, and the categories that are used on applications, submission forms, agent “wish lists,” and so on. As we’ve seen in this discussion, many of us are describing our work in hybrid ways, or creating our own terms, which is cool!
I’m a boomer, retired cop, guy, so imagine my surprise when two English teacher beta readers informed me one of my novels was “Women’s Fiction.” My response was a chuckling “no way.” I didn’t even know what it was, but I found myself reaching out to members of the WFWA. I learned it was all about emotional arc, primarily (but not necessarily) with a female protagonist. Check and check for a story about the struggles between a mother and daughter, which I wrote based in part on my years working domestic violence and sexual assault cases. I’d heard about book club fiction and upmarket, but this WF thing was brand new territory. I joined WFWA, and I’ve appreciated the feedback and support. As for labels, I prefer book club fiction simply because of my own comfort, I suppose. I will say, however, that book club fiction may be a bit more inclusive overall. I would not have picked up something labeled “women’s fiction” before I knew more about it, thinking (incorrectly, I know) it was a romance title. Carry on.
Great example of the fact that the “women” label, as presently defined, has nothing to do with the gender of the author or protagonist! So why don’t we change the label? My point exactly! There IS a certain kind of novel that we recognize. It just needs a different name … thanks for joining the conversation!
What about calling it Transformative Fiction?
I’ve also wrestled with this. Incredible discussion and very helpful for WFWA as we undertake this issue moving forward.
So glad that WFWA will be taking this up! And while “transformation” may, indeed, be what this sort of story is about, I can’t see Amazon or bookstores adopting that as a category name. So there is the search for a word that works, and there is the matter of a clear and unique definition. Two challenges!
“a work of women’s fiction can—in theory—be written by a man, have a man as its central character…”
I concur. Examples: I am a man and I write Women’s Fiction. The protagonist of one of the best – in my opinion – entries to the Women’s Fiction Writer Association (WFWA) Agents Pitch is a famous man. Many popular novels conform to the WFWA definition, yet they are not generally labeled WF. Just an example among thousands: Gray Mountain by John Grisham.
The genre is clearly defined: the WFWA definition could even be useful for a partition of ALL novels. Admittedly, there is a huge grey zone, but there are also novels that are WF and others that are definitely not. And I’d say that a story in which the protagonist has no emotional evolution (by default ‘Men’s Fiction’) seems – in principle – much less interesting than one whose protagonist evolves.
Alas, I also concur that our beloved genre has that huge problem: its gendered ‘confusing and misleading’ name. In turn, this makes the usage of the term for marketing purposes unsatisfactory. Indeed, a cursory analysis of the responses to the WFWA Agents Pitch workshop shows that the literary agents hold a rather reductionist vision of Women’s Fiction.
After an (admittedly quick) literature review, I believe that the term Women’s Fiction was coined in the seventies, and at the time it had an ideological (Feminist) connotation. And I believe we still need feminist values, and the world direly needs feminist men. So, why not keep the ‘gendered’ term and try to emphasize its ‘hidden’ values? As a man, I am not offended by the term ‘Women’s Fiction’. On the contrary, I am proud to be a male writer of Women’s Fiction. And I believe we should keep it, gendered name and all, and emphasize its inclusiveness, welcoming male readers and writers. After all, every threat is also an opportunity…
Thank you so much for weighing in here, Giuseppe! One of the best things about Writer Unboxed is that it offers us a chance to explore a topic from all perspectives. Yours as a male writer of “Women’s Fiction” is an important contribution to the conversation. It’s interesting to note the genesis of the term, from the feminist movement of the 70s (as Don also noted) and also to raise the question of how literary agents view “women’s” fiction. I could be wrong, but I believe that most readers/buyers of novels are women, so there’s a double-edged marketing thing going on here too. Maybe.
Excellent article, Barbara. When I was first aware of WF, I was satisfied with the genre. Happy actually to find where to place my debut novel. At the time it referred to a woman’s emotional arc as the basis of the novel. Once that was taken away, the term stymied me. I could not fathom why the term woman was replaced with protagonist yet the name of the genre remained Women’s fiction. We’ll all have to fine new boxes to tick, especially on Amazon.
Perfectly said, Linda! Thank you for pointing out the change in definition. While I assume it was meant to be more inclusive, in fact it just muddies things (IMHO). It kind of reminds me of the set of boxes that we sometimes must choose from when giving demographic information. They’ve now broadened to include new categories; fiction needs to do the same!