If there is one genre known for tropes, it's romance. Whether it's the dynamic of the central relationship or a particular scene, it's safe to say that every romance reader has their favorite tropes that they have fallen head over heels for.
But for every trope that gets love, there's one that gets shade—and none seems as disfavored as the miscommunication trope.
The trope is exactly as it sounds: there is a miscommunication between characters that causes tension and a conflict they must overcome. In romance, this is commonly used to delay characters getting together, often around the point of the story known as the "third act breakup."
The miscommunication trope is not exclusive to romance, but there seems to be something about the miscommunication trope that grinds romance readers' gears especially.
But here's the thing: I don't hate the miscommunication trope. At least, not always. There are times it doesn't make sense and can be frustrating if not infuriating, but it's something I've used in my own writing on more than one occasion and not without reason.
I'm hoping to clear the air with this post and have an honest conversation about the miscommunication trope, why it's disliked, and why I don't entirely hate it.
Why The Hate Towards The Miscommunication Trope?
The biggest gripe towards the miscommunication trope often boils down to how and when it's used in a story. Some readers view it as a cheap way to rev up the drama of a story, often feeling forced or as if it's being used because the author couldn't come up with anything better. They may feel that these miscommunications are easily avoidable mistakes that could be cleared up with a simple conversation.
It may also undermine character development. Let's say your protagonist is naturally headstrong or her arc revolves around her gaining the confidence to advocate for herself. The third act of your story kicks off when she overhears part of a conversation between her boyfriend and his cousin, and she's led to believe that her boyfriend is going to be breaking up with her because they're acting out a scenario. She doesn't ask questions and instead assumes the worst automatically, when if she'd spoken up she would have found out that the boyfriend was helping his cousin prepare to quit his job by role-playing the pending conversation with his boss. Readers may feel this is a setback, stripping the protagonist of her agency because she takes no action.
In romance especially, misunderstandings like this can make not only the character seem weak but also the romantic relationship. It might indicate a lack of trust between these characters. If the entire relationship falls apart because of a mishap that can probably be resolved in a matter of minutes if they'd talk about it, readers may wonder how compatible the characters really are and if they should even be rooting for them at that point.
The miscommunication trope can also feel shallow. Compared to alternative conflicts keeping the characters apart, like their family's expectations or a lack of trust after being burned by a past relationship, simply not talking to each other doesn't have the depth—at least, not on its own...
Why I Don't Hate The Miscommunication Trope
When supplementing other conflicts, the miscommunication trope can work well in a romance, and it's something I've used in multiple stories.
Miscommunication happens every day. Whether you've been unintentionally left out of a group chat or forgot to mention something important, we've all misunderstood something at one time or another. It can be awkward, like showing up to a party empty-handed not knowing you were in charge of bringing the fruit salad, or catastrophic, like assuming your spouse is cheating and filing for divorce instead of confronting them about their overly friendly new secretary's late-night texts.
And just as characters have different love languages, they can also have different methods of communication. One person may be more direct while another ends every text with an emoji to assure you that they're not mad at you when they respond. There may be a cultural difference or language barrier. One person may bottle everything up because they're afraid of conflict, which prompts the other to assume everything's copacetic.
Misunderstandings also can be the result of those aforementioned bigger stakes. If they're being kept apart by disapproving parents, getting in contact with each other is going to be tricky.
The miscommunication trope is a show of human nature. It may not be the most exciting or unique conflict a writer can use, but it's realistic—especially in historical fiction.
If this is this is the first of my posts you're reading, I write historical romance (Regency Era specifically), and the miscommunication trope is one that appears in several of my projects.
Depending on the time period a historical fiction piece is set in, the characters' communication is going to be limited. While it would surely expedite things to have the ability to instantly contact anyone anywhere in the world at any time of day, that wouldn't be an option for my characters in the 1810s.
My characters wouldn't have phones and they definitely wouldn't have had social media. Unless you were at least in earshot of somebody if not talking face-to-face, letters back and forth would be your only means of correspondence. No sliding into DMs for 'em!
And of course, though it was common for the post to be delivered twice daily, they also didn't have cars or planes. It could take several days to receive a reply to a message you've sent someone out of town. Not to mention it could be expensive and not always a reliable system; fun fact, it was the recipient who paid for the postage, not the person sending it.
In my second-chance romance, A Tided Love, Caroline and Thomas lose touch after she leaves the seaside resort town of Breamport, and that's in part due to a letter getting lost in the post. Caroline can only think Thomas wants nothing to do with her after their argument the last time they saw each other, while he can only assume she did get his letter and chose not to respond. It's nearly a decade later, when Caroline returns to Breamport, that they're able to figure out what actually happened and reconcile.
Even later on, with the introduction of telegrams, there were limitations. The ability to send a message to a loved one while aboard the Titanic in 1912 was a luxury. You'd be charged about $1 for each word (roughly $34 USD today) so chances are you'd be using as few as possible; this also means that the privilege of communication would have been more accessible to the wealthier passengers in first- and second-class than those traveling in steerage.
Although they had endured an unfathomable tragedy, survivors of the sinking were still charged the fee to send a message from the Carpathia. One man used his last dollar to send a single word home to his mother: Safe.
Even with this then-modern tech, you'd still possibly experience delays. Extenuating circumstances aside, one survivor of the sinking sent a telegram to his family to let them know he was alive four days after on April 18, 1912; the note reads, "Safe on Carpathia Telephone friends Newark New York, Burns."
There's also the matter of social protocols that would impact communication in the Regency Era. If you wanted to meet someone at a party, you'd require a mutual acquaintance to facilitate the introduction. You wouldn't be able to be alone with your crush unless you wanted a scandal on your hands; a young lady would require a chaperone to be present, for example, and lord knows you wouldn't want them to hear your flirtations! It's always a challenge for me as a Regency romance writer to get my characters alone so they can have those little moments to themselves and have those heart-to-hearts without being overheard.
I imagine this need to tone things down for propriety's sake led to a lot of subtle, indirect communication and misunderstandings.
The ease of communication is something I think contemporary readers sometimes take for granted. Yes, these issues could be cleared up if these characters would just take a few minutes to hash things out, but that's not always feasible.
Tips For Writing The Miscommunication Trope
As is the case with any trope, the miscommunication trope in romance is all a matter of how it's written. If you want to use the miscommunication trope in a way that doesn't have your readers throwing your book at the wall, here are some tips to help:
Make The Miscommunication Realistic — a chief complaint in regard to the miscommunication trope is how forced it can end up feeling. Readers will be more accepting of the trope when it feels like a natural consequence of other conflicts at play, like texts becoming sporadic when a character takes on a new career with a significantly more demanding schedule or emotional baggage that makes it difficult for that character to open up and share their feelings.
More Than Not Talking — make the miscommunication deeper than characters not talking. Maybe your character misinterprets their partner's sudden distance as losing interest in the relationship or worse yet an affair, when in reality they're struggling with the upcoming anniversary of their sister's death and aren't ready to talk about it. Your character may think they know the answer and jump to conclusions, or they're too afraid to ask the questions suffocating their thoughts. Miscommunication is more than what is said and what isn't; remember that it can also be misinterpreted body language or actions.
Raise The Stakes — another common reason the miscommunication trope isn't a favorite among readers is that it can feel like forced conflict when in reality, it can help raise the emotional stakes of the story. Putting characters in a difficult sitution can prompt them to learn not only about themselves but each other, testing their relationship all the while. It can be a great opportunity to reveal character weaknesses and flaws, especially when it's tied into a bigger theme like needing to be more vulnerable or to advocate for yourself.
Wrap It Up Quickly Enough — the longer a miscommunication endures, the more frustrated your reader may get. At some point, they'll likely be begging the characters to have a civil conversation because that would fix a lot of problems. Don't drag this conflict out for too long!
A Meaningful Conclusion — one of my pet peeves with the miscommunication trope is when a character accepts the truth a little too quickly. In a recent read of mine, the protagonist's love interest's mother has a terminal form of cancer and did not want the love interest (her son) to know. When the prognosis came to light, as did the fact that the protagonist knew but didn't say anything, the son storms off only to be accepting and forgiving of the protagonist by the next chapter. It was like a switch got flipped. Done and dusted. It wasn't satisfying to me as a reader. Just because a simple conversation would mend a lot of emotional wounds, that doesn't mean it all needs to be resolved at the snap of a finger. Explore the consequences and what comes next in that relationship. Make the fallout genuine and memorable.
If you ask me, the miscommunication trope is terribly misunderstood. On its own, it can feel contrived and flimsy. But when paired with other tropes, it can become the foundation for a complex story exploring human emotion and the way we understand one another.
How do you feel about the miscommunication trope? Are there any other tropes you feel are misread? Let me know in the comments!
Yorumlar