There are a few things they don’t tell you about getting older. Sure, advertisements had given me fair warning about the physical changes on the way, and it was clear I was expected to fight those with a ferocity one would usually bring to a boxing ring.

But what I didn’t know was that I’d slowly, so slowly that I didn’t even notice at first, start to lose feelings. Intensity. One morning I woke up and realized that I drifted from day to day without feeling much of anything except relief when I could climb back in bed. Soon, I understood, the highlight of my life would be a sale on cat food at the grocery store. Maybe I was depressed. Maybe I was simply entering my third mid-life crisis.

Then, at a New Year’s party, watching 2019 drift into 2020, we turned on the TV to see what was going on at Times Square. Seven extremely well-dressed and beautifully coiffed men took the stage and I perked up, intrigued with the synchronicity of their dancing and the fun pop songs that didn’t seem to be in English (although by this point I was down about half a bottle of champagne, so I wasn’t totally sure).

This was new. This was different. I obnoxiously shushed my husband and friends and settled in to watch BTS.

I’d heard of K-pop before and in fact had seen Blackpink’s Kill this Love video—a wild trip that involves a gigantic bear trap, a room of cereal boxes, explosions, and truly amazing hair—a few months earlier. But that BTS performance was the start of a journey that would, without exaggeration, change my life. It started with one thought: “I wonder what their names are.” It’s led, three years later, in writing The Comeback, my rom-com about a work-obsessed lawyer who falls for a K-pop idol (out in print on May 9). Along the way, I’ve met new friends, started running again thanks to a K-pop playlist that makes each step moderately less painful, and found myself opening up to new ideas and experiences. (I even took a K-pop dance class. It was humiliating and I will never do it again, but at least I tried.)

As a deep lover of celebrity romance, one of the first things I did was look for a K-pop romance. I wanted to absorb books with idol characters the same way I was binging on other K-pop content such as the live footage and reality shows, the dance practices and music award performances that had production values well beyond what we see in North America.

However, although I found some fantastic young adult books, there weren’t that many for an adult audience. This shocked me. After all, K-pop is filled with elements that make for great stories. The K-pop trainee system means that people can spend years training before they debut, dedicating their lives to mastering dance, vocals and rap, and acting, as well as media training and other skills. This also results in a highly competitive environment, rife for intrigue and drama (from a storyteller’s point of view). An idol’s life is scrutinized by the media and passionate fanbases, and personal interactions analyzed with the level of focus a detective brings to a crime scene. All of this is perfect fodder for a secret dating trope. Idols are massive celebrities, bringing in millions from brand deals and causing airport mobs, and larger than life with perfect and poreless skin. The idea of “he could have anyone in the world, but he wants me” is painfully appealing.

I won’t even go into how beautiful idols are, but suffice it to say that if I was looking for an attractive male main character, K-pop had plenty of men to model one on. Plus, they’re called idols. So awesome.

As I learned more, and listened more, and watched more, my respect for the music and the artists grew. However, as a K-pop fan, I also came across many misconceptions about the genre. That it was only for young girls (as if that in itself made it ridiculous) and that it was factory-made and uncreative compared to music from the West were the two primary ones. This didn’t square with what I experienced, and The Comeback (the name of the book is a K-pop term referring to a new music release), is my way of offering an entry to the genre for readers.

Ari, the main character, is absolutely not a K-pop fan at the beginning. In fact, she’s barely into pop culture at all, which makes her the perfect guide for the reader. Her lack of cultural awareness is why she doesn’t recognize Jihoon, a member of one of the most famous bands in the world. Although it seems improbable, it’s based on my own realization that before I was into K-pop, I could have passed a group member on the street and not had a clue unless they were being followed by a film crew or some beefy security guards.

As Ari learns about Jihoon’s life, art, and career, so too does the reader. If I’ve done my job right, the book will be fun for those who have barely heard of K-pop, as well as long-time fans who will remember the fun of learning about a new group. What I hope is that readers will have the same experience that I did: utter joy at learning something new and exciting. It’s a gift K-pop gave to me, and so many others.

The Comeback is a celebrity romance, but also contains themes of family and friendship, what you owe others, and the price of fame. But mostly, it’s about how easy it is to fall in love with a super-hot K-pop idol, and the challenges in keeping that love alive.

Exactly the book I wanted to read.

If you’re new to K-pop, I have playlist of boy band songs on my Spotify! It’s not comprehensive, but these are songs I like.

The Comeback is available from Amazon and Bookshop.