“The rest of her life cannot hinge on this relationship,” Cerulo says. “We really like the idea of self-actualized female main characters. It’s just nice to see that in the world.”
And there’ll be on-page sex.
“It’s core,” Cerulo says of smut. “We talked to a writer at some point who was like, ‘I would rather lie down in traffic than fade to black,’ and I was like, ‘Yes, come sit here, sit with me.’”
As their output grows so will the range of topics they can cover. Mazur was surprised by the beating heart that she found under romance’s heaving bosom, noting the diverse characters, real-life situations, and varied experiences on the page, along with the fact that, yeah, “some of them are really filthy.” (An understatement.)
Representation is essential to the genre: The books aren’t just for older readers; those curious younger bookworms swiping from their parents’ shelves are very much on Cerulo’s and Mazur’s minds as well. Romantic fiction is a staging ground for what these readers will find hot in the future. Books may set expectations for how they will and should be treated in real-life intimacy. Fiction can present what kinds of people are eligible love interests. Authors like Helen Hoang have set love stories around characters who are on the autism spectrum; Talia Hibbert introduces readers to leads with chronic pain, who are neurodivergent; Emily Henry’s stars grapple with anxiety and more; Jasmine Guillory’s dialogue contains specific conversations about the complexities of interracial relationships and dressing a non-sample-size body. Readers might know these people or be these people, and it could be a lightbulb moment to see these traits in someone who has sexual desires and is desirable themselves—in a best-selling book, no less.
Design is also essential in 831’s strategy to reframe romance, their book covers notably lacking Fabio-esque oiled-up beefcakes or the candy-colored illustrated couples that have become popular lately. Instead, each book will have a simple color-blocked cover, with different hues for each title, invoking the Penguin Classics collection’s distinctive minimalist aesthetic and horizontal band. Big Fan is checkered pink and red, giving a first impression that’s more design-based than steamy, allowing readers to feel more comfortable carrying the physical book in public.
Months before ARCs of Big Fan even went out, the brand’s trope hats began quietly appearing on Instagram, worn by select romance enthusiasts. A tasteful yet eye-catching maroon ball cap emblazoned with “enemies to lovers” inspires conversation—as does one that reads “fake relationship.”
Relationship tropes are intrinsic to the genre. Mazur’s favorite is “celebrity-normal person,” like Elissa Sussman’s journalist–movie star story Funny You Should Ask or Heather Cocks and Jessica Morgan’s commoner-royalty series beginning with The Royal We (this is also Big Fan’s trope of choice), while Cerulo has “a soft spot” for second-chance romances.
“One of the delightful things about romance is that when people discover it, they’re like, Oh, I like reading,” Cerulo says. “Reading is fun.”
There’s the old saying that it’s about the journey, not the destination, but in romance novels, it’s about both. We live in an uncertain world, but we know that in these books, at least, we can be absolutely certain of a happy ending after a few roadblocks. Cerulo and Mazur may have begun reading romance during lockdown, but readers don’t need a pandemic-level crisis to seek out a little extra love.
“You pick up [a romance novel] and you know that there’s going to be a piece of joy in it for you and a comfort level in it,” Mazur says. “You’re going to be taken care of. I always know I’m going to feel safe within the constraints of this book.”