Quinn by Sally Mandel was originally published in 1982, and it is set in 1964, so I guess that makes it, technically, an historical. I do know that I remember reading it in my teens, and it has remained a favorite of mine for decades. I decided to revisit it after an AAR discussion about the “losing your virginity at a later-than-traditional age” story because Quinn may be the best depiction of the trope I’ve read. Too, it proves that despite all the negativity surrounding tropes these days (they are formulaic/a cheat/boring/lazy writing), this book proves tropes have been around as long as stories have been told.

Quinn Mallory is twenty-one, about to graduate from college, and due to both her Catholicism and the fact she hasn’t found her Marvin the Magnificent yet, is still a virgin. She’s not hung up about it, but she decides it’s probably time to change that, and in order to find a guy to do the deed, she invites a handful of fellow classmates to apply for the job. The one person she doesn’t invite is Will Ingraham, the quiet, intellectual guy in her English class who often agitates her with his obnoxious and clearly wrong interpretations of famous works of literature.

This academic rivalry does not stop Will from sending Quinn an unsolicited letter explaining why he should be the one to deflower her. Quinn is not only shocked by the fact that a guy she really doesn’t like all that much would join the competition when he wasn’t invited, she’s stunned when she’s so moved by his letter that she knows he’s the clear winner. After a couple of days of denial, she approaches Will and they make plans to get things done.

Things progress, and before long, Will and Quinn are a real couple who are certain they’ve each found their lifelong partner in the other. The problem is that Quinn has big dreams of a life in New York City as an on-air national news reporter, like her hero Ted Manning. Will, on the other hand, cannot wait to return home to Idaho where his family lives as remotely as it is possible to do. He hates crowds and noise and the hustle and bustle of the city. In no way do their individual visions of the future mesh, and despite their profound love for each other, there seems to be no way to compromise.

I will tell you up front that Quinn does not offer the happy ending required for a true romance novel (thus my tagging it as romantic fiction). When I first read the book back in my teens, the ending crushed me. But as an adult with a lot of wisdom and real world experience under my belt, I know that this story could end no other way than how it does. It is proof that sometimes, great love is simply not enough to overcome some obstacles.

Because in almost every way, Quinn and Will are opposites. She’s an extrovert who never stops moving, whereas he’s an introvert who prefers books and silence to people. When Quinn visits Will’s family during a snowy Idaho winter, she’s bouncing off the walls within hours. On the flip visit to Quinn’s home on the outskirts of Boston, Will hides in a bedroom with Quinn’s mother when Quinn throws a party to introduce him to her high school crowd. And while they hate what it means, they both know that if either of them sacrifices what they want for the future, they will only end up resentful and angry.

While Quinn is a product of its time, it’s not dated. The problems that Will and Quinn face are so realistic, and while the ending isn’t as perfect as you’d want it to be, it’s the only ending that makes sense. If you are looking for an old-skool romance, I highly recommend this book.