Tag: Writing

Illustrated fantasy couple standing close together in a fantasy world with a full moon, header image for a blog post comparing fantasy romance and romantasy genres

Fantasy Romance vs. Romantasy: What’s the Difference?

Fantasy Romance vs. Romantasy: What’s the Difference?

Okay, but… aren’t fantasy romance and romantasy basically the same thing?

That’s a question I’ve asked myself more than once.

If you’ve been anywhere near the book world lately, you’ve seen the word romantasy everywhere. It’s on bookstore shelves. It’s all over social media. People are recommending romantasy books, arguing about romantasy tropes, and debating whether a particular book is actually counts.

Which brings us to the obvious question: what is romantasy, anyway?

The short answer is that romantasy is a blend of romance and fantasy. The slightly longer answer is that both pieces matter enough to the story that pulling either one out would break the book.

And that’s where things get fuzzy, because fantasy romance and romantasy overlap. A lot.

I Was Going to Tell You My Favorite Books. Then This Article Took a Different Turn.

I sat down to write a simple list of my top speculative fiction reads this year—just a quick roundup of the books I loved most.

But while I was drafting it, I realized my reasons for loving these stories weren’t always the reasons a typical reader might give. Yes, these books swept me away with romance, monsters, magic, ghosts, and parallel worlds. But they also did something else: they quietly solved writing problems I didn’t know how to fix.

A ghost romance taught me how to handle impossible intimacy. A sci‑fi mystery showed me the structure I’d been missing. A novella answered a pacing question I’d been stuck on for weeks.

So this list still represents my favorite speculative fiction books—but filtered through an author’s lens, where every story becomes a craft lesson in disguise.

If you love books that teach you something while they entertain, you’ll feel right at home here.

4 Things Readers Do (And Why Your Brain is Probably to Blame)

Why do readers buy books they never read, stay up too late, cry over fictional characters, and reread favorites? A scientist explains reader psychology.

I wasn’t supposed to be near the books. I had a list. I had a plan.

But the books were right across the aisle.

Then I saw her. A woman, mid-thirties, two small children buckled into the cart, a box of goldfish crackers being slowly destroyed by the younger one. She was standing in front of the book display with the focused calm of someone defusing a bomb.

She already had two books in the cart. She picked up three more. Didn’t hesitate. Didn’t calculate. Just added them with the quiet confidence of a woman who has made peace with her choices.

She was not going to read all five of those books. I knew this because I am her. I went home with one more book I didn’t need and couldn’t stop thinking about why we do this.

Here’s the thing about being a pharmacist who writes fantasy romance: I’m wired to ask why. So when I kept noticing my own reader habits and couldn’t explain them, I did what any analytically-minded introvert would do. I started investigating. And then, because I figured I wasn’t the only one, I started writing it up to share.

That became a little side project called A Scientist Explains Readers. Four issues in (over on Substack), and here’s what I’ve found on us:

Moonfall Caravan: Choose Your Horse. Choose Your Fate.

I grew up absolutely obsessed with those old Choose Your Own Adventure books.

The fantasy ones. The sci-fi ones. The weird ones where you somehow died because you opened the wrong door on page 42. I had stacks of them scattered around my room as a kid, with folded page corners marking all the endings I hadn’t survived yet.

Honestly, they were probably my first real introduction to fantasy and sci-fi “novels,” if you can call them novels. They felt bigger than regular books to me because you got to participate in the disaster directly. You weren’t just reading about someone making terrible decisions. You were making the terrible decisions.

And somehow every choice felt incredibly serious when you were ten.

Do you climb into the alien cave?
Do you trust the wizard?
Do you touch the glowing crystal that is very obviously cursed?

Naturally: yes.

So I decided to write a small love letter (parody?) to those gloriously chaotic adventure books. This one has moon fragments, cursed horses, deeply questionable survival strategies, and at least one horse that has almost certainly committed multiple crimes.

Choose wisely.

Or at least choose entertainingly.

How a Tiny Idea Turns Into an Entire Book (Featuring Naked Brainstorming and a Lot of Self-Doubt)

Most people probably imagine authors getting struck by inspiration in beautiful cafés or while staring moodily out rainy windows.

Mine usually arrives while I’m covered in shampoo and trying not to get conditioner in my eyes.

That’s how Erased, Not Gone started: one weird little thought about memory wipes, criminals, and whether losing your past is a punishment or a mercy. By the time I got out of the shower, argued with myself for twenty minutes, and aggressively towel-dried my hair, I had the beginning of a sci-fi romantic suspense novella I absolutely was not planning to write.

This is the story of how a tiny idea snowballed into a full book anyway.

This is the Part I Panic Through

I have a book coming out in three weeks, which sounds exciting until my brain gets involved.

Then it becomes a full-time investigation into everything I’ve ever written, edited, deleted, or vaguely thought about at 2 a.m. while staring at the ceiling wondering if I’ve misunderstood storytelling as a concept.

The book is about a runaway princess, a thief with questionable life choices, and a horse who behaves like it is personally offended by authority. It’s short. It’s fast. It’s the kind of story you can read in one sitting if you don’t get emotionally derailed by a horse with boundary issues.

But right now, I’m not thinking about the story.

I’m thinking about everything that comes after.

Because publishing a book isn’t just finishing something. It’s the part where you let it go and hope you didn’t accidentally break it somewhere invisible.

And that’s where I am right now.

If There’s Only One Horse… You Know What’s Coming

You know that moment.

Two characters. One problem. And suddenly — there’s only one horse.

Not ideal. Not comfortable. Definitely not emotionally safe.

The one-horse trope is a staple of romantasy for the same reason the one-bed trope is: it forces two people into unavoidable closeness before either of them is ready for it. But unlike the one-bed situation, which at least comes with blankets and some plausible deniability, the one-horse scenario is immediate chaos. There’s no elegant way to share a horse with someone. You can’t pretend you don’t notice them. You can’t roll to your side of the mattress and stare at the ceiling.

You’re on a horse. Together. Right now. Figure it out.

It’s forced proximity with zero escape plan — and readers love it for very specific reasons.

You Asked. I Answered. (I May Have Overshared.)

What do you actually get when you ask a retired pharmacist turned author — who grew up at a zoo, lived in an RV for two years, and writes from 3 AM to 11 AM — to answer reader questions? Apparently, twenty-three answers and a lot of oversharing.

My readers asked about my writing process, my real-life love story (it involved a broken-down truck and someone’s dad picking us up), where my ideas come from, and yes — the zoo. I answered all of it. Then I added a few questions nobody thought to ask, because apparently I have a lot to say.
If you’ve ever wanted to know what goes into writing romantic speculative fiction, what RV life really looks like, or why there is absolutely no such thing as a writing playlist in this household — this one’s for you.

The Love Potion Debacle: A Witchy Romance Short Story

Here’s a fun story inspired by the upcoming Valentine’s Day holiday.

Theo, the town’s grumpiest warlock, wakes up to absolute chaos—people serenading lampposts, cows forming heart shapes, and a baker proposing to a shoe. The culprit? A rogue love potion. And Lyra, his infuriatingly charming hedge witch rival, is at the center of it.

But Lyra swears she’s innocent (mostly). Midnight, her meddling cat, and Tempest, Theo’s anxious owl, aren’t helping. As Theo and Lyra race to fix the potion before the Council of Mages revokes his license, unexpected sparks fly.

Cleaning up this mess might take more than magic—it might take a little trust. And that’s the real disaster.