The Lesbian “Fast Burn”: A Romance Novel Over-analysis

From deep in the thralls of sapphic romantic storytelling, here's a short essay on why beyond the stereotype, wlw love burns quick and fierce when unburdened by patriarchy.

Throughout February, maybe in celebration of love or as a form of escapism from my own unsettling love life, I've decided I'll only be reading queer romances. Halfway through the month and two novels in, I'm already connecting common threads in how sapphic love stories are told, not at all in a departure from the hard and fast nature they can often take on in reality.

But before I get into unpacking the lesbian fast-burn industrial complex, let me give you a rundown of what I've read so far.

D'Vaughn and Kris Plan a Wedding by Chencia C. Higgins is an amazingly heartwarming story that follows two lesbians who signed up for a reality show where they're tasked to convince those closest to them that they'll be getting married to a total stranger. In six short, the protagonists strategize, scheme, and incidentally fall head over heels for each other as their facade becomes a reality. I read this one in three days, and I'll say not once did the butterflies in my stomach settle. Also, we all need to find ourselves a Kris!

My second read, Delilah Green Doesn't Care by Ashley Herring Blake, is an endearing emotional rollercoaster that follows a broody photographer with unresolved family trauma as she falls in love with her estranged stepsister's best friend who happens to be navigating baby daddy drama laced with abandonment issues. In two short weeks, Delilah and Clair unintentionally find themselves healing each other with the uncertainty of their family's approval looming.

Both books lean into something very nuanced that I believe to be the exact reason the love stories of women loving women can be so intense so fast.

In Higgins' story, D'Vaughn uses the reality tv show as an opportunity to come out to her disapproving Southern Christian mother finally. Without question, Kris, a stranger cosplaying as her Fiancée, took on holding her hand and reaffirming her as she did so while showing her what it meant to be loved loudly, even if D'Vaughn thought it was an act. Simultaneously, Kris overcomes her doubt that she can find love beyond all the surface-level relationships she's had due to an online personal she created.

In Blake's, Delilah was orphaned at ten years old and raised with a stepmother and sister to who she felt she was a burden. A broken child, she flees her hometown immediately after high school to pursue a new life as an artist in New York. She returns at thirty years old and reconnects with Claire, her stepsister's best friend, who she assumed also disliked her growing up. On the other hand, Claire became a teenage mother and has had to navigate the last eleven years with a co-parent who abandoned her and their child three too many times. Through finding one another, Delilah begins healing her childhood trauma and relationship with her home, and Claire rediscovers that she is, in fact, worth sticking around for.

The connective tissue here is that as women who love women, our propensity to care for other women can be unaffected by external patriarchal barriers and the power struggles they come with. We already see this with femme friendships and their ability to remain vulnerable and steadfast in our highly turbulent world. As such, with the additional layer of romantic love, the concept of time fades to the background allowing for something more true to thrive. Genuine, unaffected empathy.

That being said, I might need to step back into the real, non-romance novel world for a while; I'm starting to get jealous of fictional characters. Until next time, keep your hearts open for the love you want and deserve. Being a romantic is never hopeless.