In a couple-three-four years, a new sub-genre of romance will rise to the top, beating the sales of even the menage and the hot m/m sexx. If I knew what it was, I'd be there, writing it like crazy**. Me and Florence Stonebraker, we go for bulk, Sam.
So that prediction? My crystal ball shows nothing but murk. I only wish I knew. Format? Content? Graphic novels? Who knows? Someone will guess right and she's going to be rich.
Here's what I do know. Whatever that wildly successful sub-genre is, it'll face sneering hordes of romance writers who say it's just not:
1. Romantic enough
2. Heartfelt enough
3. Interesting/heart-thumping/real enough to gain real romance readers, just the fringes.
4. Written in a style that requires true talent/artistry.
Letters to RWR (RWA's magazine) and long angry blog posts will be written on why it's not a real form of romance or even--if we're really lucky--why it's depraved and should be banned in Texas. Passionate, snarky, and probably funny answering letters and blog entries will take up a lot of space. It will be a topic for more than a week and less than two years (on and off).
You heard it here first. Well, not really, since it's something I and others have been yapping about the subject all around the interwebs.
See? Got it yet? It's not about the love; it's about the $$.
**except it turns out that I'm no Sunny and I can't write every sub-genre after all. Damn.