Beach Read by Emily Henry and the charm and problems of romance tropes

There’s something about Emily Henry’s novels that are the perfect amount of romance, the perfect amount of drama, and the perfect amount of cheesy. Originally, I learned about her books through a tweet (as one tends to do these days) that said something like “If you’re looking for a book that has academic rivals to lovers but she's the only one who hates him and he’s been in love with her since the day they met this is the book for you.” This was the description for Beach Read. Oddly specific, particularly intriguing. All the Goodreads reviews, comments, and descriptions kept on mentioning that: enemies to lovers, rivals to lovers. It was almost as if that was its biggest selling point. It didn’t matter the type of story, the author, the setting, the most important thing was that the trope enemies to lovers was included. And it seems like that’s enough to draw a lot of people in.

A trope is a recurring theme or plot device that readers recognize instantly. In a way, tropes are clichés that have run through storytelling for centuries: "Friends to Lovers," "Enemies to Lovers," the age-old "Love Triangle," "Fake Relationship," and the ever-captivating "Forbidden Love." They're woven into the fabric of storytelling, but there's a fine line between their allure and their potential to undermine creativity and originality.

Tropes don't just define a piece of media; they hold a powerful grip on the people consuming romance. This fixation seems to have emerged partly from fanfiction, where romantic tropes are systematically tagged, categorized, and often pushed to extremes. There, tropes make sense: readers are already invested in established characters and relationships, and tags help a story stand out among countless others featuring the same pairing, fueling the desire to see those dynamics in endless variations.

In the broader world of literature, though, this consumerist approach can stifle the true essence of storytelling. I get it. When you like something, you look for more of it, and in an age of information overload, filters make that easier. But to me, it feels flat and charmless. Why do we now enjoy a dynamic in and of itself more than the writing or the characters? When does the line blur between a trope and an overused formula used to sell a book?

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Emily Henry's novels dance on the fine line between romance and cliché, and Beach Read is one of her best. January Andrews is a romance writer with a serious case of writer's block. After her father dies unexpectedly, she retreats to his secret second home, a beach house in North Bear Shores, Michigan. There she discovers that her next-door neighbor is Gus Everett, her college rival, who is struggling to write the next Great American Novel. The two strike a deal to help each other break through.

Henry writes characters and dialogue you can't help but adore. January was a hopeless romantic, but grief leaves her disheartened, and Henry doesn't shy away from her confusion. Instead, she uses it to deepen January's character. And Gus is a typical grumpy love interest, but not one-dimensional. Henry takes her time with Gus, giving him a backstory that fits his personality and a gruff exterior that guards the lovely parts of him he keeps locked away for fear of being hurt. I think few romances put this much effort into emotional connection, and their conversations are everything to me. The banter is great, but what really moved me was how they open up about their pasts, their fears, their hopes, and their regrets. At best it feels like a warm hug from a friend, and at worst like a Netflix original you put on when there's nothing else to watch. Either way, it's touching, “…when the world felt dark and scary, love could whisk you off to go dancing; laughter could take some of the pain away; beauty could punch holes in your fear.”

It's a disservice to reduce this book to hashtags like #academicrivals or #shefellfirsthefellharder. Those labels do describe it, but they say nothing about the writing, the atmosphere, or the characters. I understand why authors and publishers lean on tropes: they help readers find books, and modern marketing demands it. But tropes have become a double-edged sword. They attract attention and drive sales, yet they can overshadow authentic chemistry and the organic flow of a story. The real challenge is reinventing these tropes with fresh life while keeping them relatable. Tropes may be the vessels that carry us through a story, but depth of emotion and originality are what make a love story unforgettable. Beach Read achieves that, and it's far more than rivals-to-lovers.