the problem with women's fiction

In Beach Read, a novel by New York Times bestselling author Emily Henry, protagonist January Andrews expresses unhappiness about her books being categorized as women’s fiction: “If you swapped out all my Jessicas for Johns, do you know what you'd get? Fiction. Just fiction. Ready and willing to be read by anyone, but somehow by being a woman who writes about women, I've eliminated half the Earth's population from my potential readers, and you know what? I don't feel ashamed of that. I feel pissed.”

My local bookstore organizes its shelves by genre, as most of its kind do. Once inside the slightly creaky doors, you can observe the rows of mystery, the tables of contemporary, maybe the display cases of memoirs. Or in reality, you are searching for the traditional characteristics of these genres: nail-biting suspense, relatable coming-of-age, or insightful real life experiences. But what does the genre of women's fiction entail?

The name doesn’t give much away, but it does narrow it down to three different, sometimes overlapping options. Women’s fiction represents novels that are either written by women, feature women, or are marketed to women. But this raises confusion about the meaning of women's fiction, and generally begs the question of…why? Can women only write in a certain genre? Is every novel with women automatically women's fiction, or are women only allowed to be in a certain genre? Are women only supposed to read a certain genre? 

According to the Romance Writers of America, women’s fiction is defined as “a commercial novel about a woman on the brink of life change and personal growth. Her journey details emotional reflection and action that transforms her and her relationships with others, and includes a hopeful/upbeat ending with regard to her romantic relationship.” 

There is no doubt that this type of novel deserves a space in the literary world, and experiences much demand from readers. Still, the purpose of the term "women's fiction" is not at all proven by this passage. Novels focused on a romantic relationship can be categorized in romance. Ones with an emotional undertone can easily be labeled as contemporary or literary fiction.

My problem though, is that I fail to comprehend why books with emotional and romantic undertones have to be automatically associated with women. Obviously women can enjoy romance, but they can also enjoy horror, nonfiction, or poetry. As per this statement, every piece of literature should thereby be considered women's fiction—but that isn't true. The mainstream cataloging of such novels into this genre perpetuates the culturally ingrained stereotypes that women are held to. Women have largely been assumed to be the most emotional gender, the most dramatic, the least put-together. Assumptions like these have put women far behind men in the workplace and personal ventures, and this categorization only worsens the worldwide assumption.

I have a similar problem with chick lit, which is targeted towards younger women and addresses the stage of modern womanhood, often humorously and lightheartedly. From the bottom of my heart, I don't understand why we have to differentiate or label books based on gender, especially because the characteristics represented in the novel also reflect on the gender, whether positively or negatively. While some may claim that it provides a sign of a safe space for women, I argue that it does more harm than good. A laser-focus on traditionally female traits is not a sign of diversity, it's a sign of a divide.

No one ever asks about men's fiction—those novels are simply fiction. Women's literature is thereby set aside as an exception, or something separate than the status quo. Contrary to what this divide perpetrates, women aren't a subgenre.

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