Volume XXXVIII: Beach Reads and Double Standards
The history—and present—of the “genre”
Introduction
Whether we are an avid reader or not, “beach reads” tend to be synonymous with summer. But what books are categorized by the industry as a beach read and—more tellingly—which books are not?
It’s that time of year again in the western hemisphere when advertisements for the next big beach read start to flood public spaces. Whether roundups from the media, displays at bookstores, or promises from a publisher or celebrity book club, the so-called beach read feels inescapable. Publishers pour valuable marketing dollars into beach read campaigns, hoping to convince big buyers (like Target and Barnes & Noble) that their book is the book of the summer. With so many books published and a three-month window for these books to really be marketed, they want them to sell fast and sell well. So, we see them advertised everywhere.
But with the notion of a “beach read” often comes a double standard: whose books are and are not considered a beach read? What does that mean for how a book is or is not marketed and publicized by its publisher? And, of course, we can’t ignore society’s guilt trips around beach reads, as if we should feel bad for enjoying what we’re reading.
In this newsletter issue, we are taking a look at the history and present behind the beach read and the publishing industry’s labeling and production of such books.
A Deeper Look
According to Donna Harrington-Lueker, a professor of English and communications, “summer reading” really began to grow in the U.S. in the late 1800s. Publishers began marketing books to middle class women—white women who were able to afford travel, access to education, and/or even childcare. And, of course, these books often ended with protagonists getting engaged. From the start, the beach read was considered to be “escapist,” associating books a woman might read with something “frivolous” or “flimsy” in nature (or, as Harrington-Lueker puts it, featuring “lessons in how you practice summer leisure”).
That association hasn’t evolved over the years, seemingly too deeply entrenched in the publishing industry. Book genres have always been coded with sexism, racism, queerphobia, etc. The genre of “women’s fiction” or “chick-lit,” for example, refers to any books that center women and are marketed to women—including books on feminism. And just like in the 1800s, “women’s fiction” typically centers and is marketed to a “specific” woman (white, middle class, cishet). There is no genre for “men’s fiction.” And all of this only further upholds heteronormativity, whiteness, and gender binaries.
While there is no hard and fast definition for a “beach read” (it’s not a genre, rather a marketing ploy treated like a genre), these books are typically fast paced, plot-driven, accessible, and considered entertaining. For publishers, that typically translates to thrillers, mysteries, and romance novels. And despite men also writing mysteries, thrillers, and romance novels, their books are rarely lumped into the beach read category. The implied takeaway is that their books are not frivolous.
Beach reads are overwhelmingly written by white, cishet women; the lists are full of Emily Henry, Carley Fortune, and Kristin Hannah releases. And that’s unsurprising because of yet another double standard in book publishing: books by women of color and/or LGBTQIA+ authors are often not considered beach read material, because of the problematic assumption that they inherently cover “serious” topics. They, unlike books by white, cishet women, are automatically considered less marketable to white, cishet women readers. (Also note that white, cishet women are not the demographic that reads the most, even though publishers consistently push that narrative. Black women read the most.)
Despite the fact that beach reads do cover “serious” topics (Emily Henry and Abby Jiminez deal with all types of grief, for example), books by BIPOC and LGBTQIA+ writers are obviously not simply less entertaining or accessible because of the identities of their authors. And even if the characters do experience racism or misogynoir or transphobia, none of that automatically means those experiences are the focus of the novel. We’re once again reminded of Lauren Michele Jackson’s quote: “racism is the environment—the weather, the climate—and it makes the seasons turn, which is to say that it is happening all the time and therefore no more remarkable than March snowflakes in the Midwest.”
Such assumptions have horrible consequences—books by BIPOC and LGBTQIA+ authors are still way less likely to be published. And when they are, they’re less likely to receive marketing dollars to help amplify and sell their books. (Like we’ve addressed before, this is a cyclical process—and when books don’t sell, an author’s future prospects become smaller.)
The Idea of You, a romance novel which was recently turned into a movie starring Anne Hathaway, was written by a Black woman (Robinne Lee) and centers two white characters.
“I spent six years writing a book prior to writing this book. Right before The Idea of You [I wrote a book] that I could not sell. It was a Black protagonist. There was a white love interest. And one of the responses I got from an editor at that time was, ‘Oh, well, no, we already have an interracial relationship that we're putting out this year.’ So when I thought about this book, I was like, Okay, I'm gonna sell this book. Nothing's gonna keep me back. If I have to make two white characters, I'm going to make them two white characters, but I'm going to make them very personal and specific to me.”
—Robinne Lee, interview with Refinery29
Sunny Hostin, author and cohost of The View, recently shared that a publishing executive asked her who she expected to read her romance novels centering Black women in a beach setting, and was surprised when she said Black women. And despite there being a surge in sales of romance books centering LGBTQIA+ characters (a whopping 740% increase from 2016 to 2021), these books still only make up 4% of the print romance market.
Publishing—an industry that is overwhelmingly white and cishet—loves coming up with excuses as to why a book is not marketable, or why they can’t bring a book onto their list that season, despite reader interest showing otherwise. And this impacts every genre—including the beach read.
Ways to Respond
More often than not, book publishing is stuck in the past; publishers rely on outdated marketing efforts, sales info (read: assumptions over data), and requirements, all of which lead to unhappy employees, a lack of diversity internally and externally, and poor sales. And their perception and marketing of “the beach read” is no different. A pseudo genre that informally began about 150 years ago is still largely perceived by publishers to include the same elements as it did way back then.
But a beach read can be any book a reader decides to read at the beach (or anywhere they spend time in the summer). Whether that’s historical fiction, academic nonfiction, romance, thriller, literary fiction, you name it. Do some readers prefer romance novels to nonfiction? Definitely, but that makes neither the reader nor the genre better than those who prefer otherwise, and vice versa. And it’s not just the “beach read” genre that’s problematic, as mentioned earlier.
As with so many other industry issues, a lot of this comes down to publishing’s lack of diversity. As Lee & Low’s Diversity Baseline Survey has shown year after year, those in charge at publishing houses—aka the people making decisions around which books will be published, how they will be edited, how they will be marketed, etc.—are white, cishet women (note: men make up only 20.6% of the publishing industry, but 33% of executive positions). And though publishers have promised to create change, such as in the middle of 2020, those promises have largely turned up empty (example: the 2020 hiring—and recent firing—of Lisa Lucas, a Penguin Random House executive, and one of the only Black women executives in the industry, who is known for championing books by BIPOC authors).
How can we continue to push for more diversity in publishing?
Support BIPOC, disabled, and LGBTQIA+ owned publishers, including:
Amplify and help empower already formed unions in publishing, and those wanting to form a union.
The HarperCollins Union is the only Big Five publisher union, and their work has helped set precedents across the industry.
Many university press employees are pushing for unionization.
Support literary spaces with the mission to amplify BIPOC, disabled, and LGBTQIA+ owned writers:
Support comes in many different shapes and sizes. Sometimes, this might mean financial contributions, volunteering, engaging with and sharing their posts on social media, joining protests or strikes, subscribing to a newsletter or magazine, attending events, contributing resources or skills, and more. When we contribute in ways that are personal to us, our activism often becomes more sustainable and conscious.
Final Musings
Again and again, we see readers (and non readers) claim that reading is an escape from the world—a feeling that publishers have clearly molded and tapped into when marketing beach reads. But as much as reading can benefit our mental health, reading is never really an escape, and to suggest that reading is separate from politics, or what is often referred to as identity politics, is privileged. What we read is shaped by the author and their own experiences, biases, prejudices, and more. What we read (and don’t read, if we look at what is not published) is shaped by publishers and their far-too-often white, cishet lens. What books are we considering to be an escape, devoid of politics? And who are those books by? More often than not, the answer is white, cishet authors, all tying back to that same assumption that books by LGBTQIA+, BIPOC, and disabled authors are inherently political.
If you’re looking for some books to read this summer, check out:
These reads by trans authors, featuring memoir, nonfiction, and fiction
Books on the history and impact of organization and occupation
Our anticipated spring 2024 releases (stay tuned for our summer list coming in June!)
Our favorites—fiction and nonfiction—by Palestinian authors
As always, and until Palestine is free, here are some actions we can take to advocate for liberation.
We’ll be back in a few weeks with a deep dive into a recent read. We also offer free downloads (wallpapers, templates, and more), and our exclusive downloads for newsletter subscribers (with password newsletterdownloads). If you have any questions, comments, or concerns, don’t hesitate to get in touch via email, the comments below, or Instagram DM.
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