Thoughts on The (Dreaded) Miscommunication Trope

Several weeks ago, I got a message from a reader challenging me (nicely) about what she argued was a misalignment between my stated aversion to the miscommunication trope and the occurrence of miscommunication in several of my stories. In responding to that reader’s message, I ended up thinking pretty deeply about this and falling into bit of a rabbit hole about it. So I thought I’d share an expanded version of my explanation/clarification as October’s first post.

The tl;dr is that it’s not miscommunication I dislike in romance, it’s the miscommunication trope. Also, I want to quibble with the word “miscommunication,” as used here.

I am 100% down with characters who are traumatized, neurodivergent, or just bad at peopling behaving traumatized, neurodivergent, or just bad at peopling. Characters (and people) who suck at being brave enough to Say the Thing, or who have histories of having their words twisted or being treated badly by people, who thus hold back their truths for safekeeping even when they’re not actually threatened, those are characters behaving appropriately, consistent with who they are.

Poor communication skills, or deep reticence and reluctance to connect, those aren’t the miscommunication trope. A traumatized, self-protecting character learning to love and be open with another person? I am riding that wave all the way to the shore with them, no matter how choppy the sea. A friends-to-lovers story where they are both in love but afraid to say it and “Ruin the Friendship” (and yes, I’m nodding to Taylor’s new album there)? That also makes perfect sense, and I will hang with them until they work it out.

The thing that will get me to throw my Kindle out the window is none of those things.

What I hate, what will ALWAYS break my connection with a story and virtually always lead to an instant DNF: lack of communication inserted inorganically to create trouble for the couple to overcome.

When a couple is supposed to have gotten through the awkward self-protection phase and is established as being in love and then one of the couple sees something, overhears something, is told something by a third party and then ACTS on that, as if it were verifiably true—that drives me absolutely bananas. How am I supposed to believe in a real bond when a character is willing to blow the whole thing up without ever going to the person who is SUPPOSED TO BE THEIR ONE TRUE LOVE and saying, “Hey, I overheard you on the phone. Did you mean [insert mistaken assumption here]? Or, “Hey, I saw you hugging [person not me]. Looked pretty intimate. What was that about?”

Also, “Hey, when we were first together, you said [something important about what you want]. I thought I wanted that, too, but I’ve changed my mind. Do you still feel the same way?”

Or how about when a third party tries to cause trouble, but nobody bothers to say, “Hey, so-and-so told me you did such-and-such. Did you?”

[Sidebar: that last one is the absolute worst. I pretty much hate any love story where a third party can do damage to a couple when no real damage actually occurred. If you don’t trust your true love, what the fuck are you doing? And if you can’t trust your true love, what the fuck are you doing?]

What I HATE in romance is the plot device of—not miscommunication (because in none of these scenarios does ANY communication take place)—making assumptions/jumping to conclusions and torpedoing a whole relationship without ever confirming what’s true. Even though they eventually get to that conversation (if it’s a romance), the fact that they blew it up in the first place kills it for me.

I cannot believe in that love any longer. If you don’t trust your partner, that’s not love. If you don’t respect your partner enough to talk things over, that’s not love. If I’m reading a romance, and the main couple aren’t being loving, that romance has failed (at least for me).

If, on the other hand, a relationship is new, and the couple is navigating the rocky terrain of getting to know someone and letting them really know you, I’m very comfortable with poor communication slowing them down. Because that’s real. It’s what happens. Real love grows when couples open up enough to let the sun in, but sometimes the clouds are dense.

I’m going to take a light swipe at a very popular author whose work I generally adore to make my point about this. Emily Henry totally rocks, I have all her (recent) books, most in every possible format. But there’s one I have only on Kindle, likely will never buy any other edition (unless my autism demands a complete set lol) or read it again, and this is why.

Beach Read, People We Meet on Vacation, Book Lovers, Funny Story, Great Big, Beautiful Life—all amazing, 5-star reads for me. Hilarious, heartfelt, and deeply fulfilling. I’ve read them all multiple times. Henry writes living, breathing characters with chemistry that pops like popcorn.

Happy Place is also hilarious, with richly drawn characters. But the central relationship is a second-chance romance where the lovers broke up over assumptions they made about each other AFTER YEARS AS A COUPLE.

They were together like EIGHT years, I think (I’m not going to look it up, but that’s the number in my head, and it feels right). Come on. If you break up over incorrect assumptions at that point, you weren’t meant to be.

I didn’t DNF Happy Place—that’s how much I love Henry’s work. The friend relationships were amazing, and I liked both main characters. But I did not believe in their relationship. They freaking lived together, man, and let these assumptions fester until their relationship fell apart. Nope.

On the other hand, I love Funny Story, which also has a lack-of-communication situation that breaks the couple apart (in fact, several of Henry’s novels do). But there, the trouble happens at the beginning of the relationship, like literally right as they are tipping toward couplehood, and the reasons for each character’s behavior that get them into trouble are fully established, essential to who they are, and thus make perfect sense.

I know plenty of readers love the miscommunication trope, and that’s great. If it works for you, good for you! But to me it feels both inauthentic and, frankly, kinda lazy. There are lots of authentic reasons an established, loving and trusting couple might undergo a crisis. Lots of external forces can press hard enough to make even the strongest metal crack.

But if a relationship buckles under a lack of trust or respect, it wasn’t made of strong stuff. And (if it happens in a story) neither was the writing.

Couples who truly love each other trust and respect each other. In fiction and in life. Full stop.

And there you have it. My explanation for my aversion to “the miscommunication trope” and my clarification for why and when I’m comfortable both writing and reading poor communication in a romantic relationship. FWIW.

I’ll be back in a couple weeks with some thoughts about the horror genre and my love if it, seeing as it’s that time of year.

Speaking of, if you’re currently feeling witchy, I have a spooky story of my own: The House on Bitternut Street is a quirky, witchy, lightly creepy haunted house story.

xoxo

s—

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