The Love Hypothesis: When Star Wars Fanfic Becomes a Publishing Phenomenon

Alright, here’s what caught my attention: a romance novel that started as Reylo fanfiction, sold three-quarters of a million copies, and somehow convinced the internet that fake-dating a grumpy professor is peak relationship goals. I dug into the discourse to figure out through the internet’s collective opinion and figure out what the hell is going on with The Love Hypothesis.

Image: Amazon

THE INTEL

• Title: The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood
• Published: September 14, 2021 (Berkley Books)
• Pages: 376
• Series: First in the STEMinist Novels series
• Goodreads: 4.06/5 average rating with 198,253 reviews
• Sales: 750,000+ copies sold worldwide according to The Bookseller
• Accolades: NYT Bestseller, 2nd place Goodreads Choice Awards 2021 Romance (lost by only 683 votes)
• Audiobook: Narrated by Callie Dalton (consistently praised in reviews)
• Genre: Contemporary Romance, Academic Romance, STEM Romance

WHAT I FOUND (THE LEGWORK)

I spent time with the reader reviews and academic discourse.goodreads.com/book/show/56732449-the-love-hypothesis”>hundreds of Goodreads reviews, Amazon ratings, and the book’s entire Wikipedia page (yes, it has one). Here’s what the internet actually thinks.

The Reylo Factor

First thing you need to know: this book started as Star Wars fanfiction called “Head Over Feet” about Rey and Kylo Ren. The male lead is literally named after Adam Driver. The female lead is designed to look like Daisy Ridley on the cover. According to Wikipedia, Hazelwood published this on Archive of Our Own in 2018, then scrubbed the Star Wars references and sold it to Berkley Books.

One Goodreads reviewer summed it up perfectly: “I don’t think reylos deserve human rights sorry.” Harsh, but the Reylo connection is either your reason to read this or your reason to run.

Women in STEM (The Part Everyone Actually Loves)

The protagonist, Olive Smith, is a 26-year-old PhD candidate in biology at Stanford researching pancreatic cancer. Every single positive review mentions this. One reviewer wrote: “As a woman in STEM myself, it warms my heart to see someone like me take center stage in a romance.” The book tackles academic sexism, funding struggles, and the experience of being a young woman in a male-dominated field.

Even the harshest critics admitted this was the book’s strength. A 1.5-star review stated: “I loved this representation, and her experience as a scholar conducting research felt realistic, especially considering she’s not American (she’s Canadian), she’s not male, and she’s pretty young.”

The Miscommunication Industrial Complex

Here’s where the book loses people. The entire plot hinges on Olive kissing a random professor (Adam Carlsen) to convince her best friend she’s over her ex. Then they fake-date. Then they refuse to communicate their actual feelings for 300+ pages.

One exasperated reviewer wrote: “This book could have been 350 pages shorter if they had just talked to each other. Communication, so important.” Another called it “excruciating” and “painful to read by the end” due to the relentless miscommunication.

The setup itself? Pretty ridiculous. Multiple reviewers questioned why a PhD student would kiss a stranger in a hallway instead of just talking to her friend like an adult.

Chapter 16 (The Internet Wants You to Know)

If you’ve seen any discussion of this book, you’ve heard about Chapter 16. The sex scene. Readers are… divided.

Positive camp: One reviewer screamed, “Wait on chapter 16 JUST WAIT ON IT!!! When Adam tells her that he wants to go down on her until she passes out I’M SCREaMINg.”

Negative camp: One critic noted, “There’s this very fine line between finding your partner so sexy that you can’t control yourself and premature ejaculation. I am not saying that Adam belongs in the second category. But I am.”

The audiobook narrator, Callie Dalton, apparently nailed this chapter, because even people who hated the book said the narration was “bangin’.”

The “Big Man” Problem

Brace yourself for this drinking game: take a shot every time the book mentions Adam is BIG. HUGE. ENORMOUS. HAS MASSIVE HANDS.

One irritated reviewer ranted: “We get it. Adam is big. HUGE. ENORMOUS. A FUCKING GIANT. HE HAS MUSCLES. I GET IT!!!!!! HIS FINGERS ARE MASSIVE AND SO IS HIS DICK. GREAT. You didn’t have to tell me in every paragraph though.”

Another asked, “Do you have to have six-pack abs too? Setting expectations a little high?” Multiple reviewers noted they knew more about Adam’s henleys and plaid shirts than his actual personality.

The Demisexuality Question

Olive appears to be demisexual (experiencing sexual attraction only after emotional connection), and the book briefly uses the term. But reviewers were not impressed with the execution.

One called it “pretty damn humiliating ace representation” because Olive describes her sexuality as “something wrong with my brain” and “not normal.” Another noted, “The author just wanted to add more to Olive’s lacking personality so she sprinkled some… ace representation” without properly exploring it.

MY ANALYSIS (BASED ON THE EVIDENCE)

This book is a Rorschach test. Your tolerance for miscommunication plots and size-kink repetition will determine whether you love or hate this. The Goodreads rating sits at 4.06, but the reviews range from “literary masterpiece” to “blocking everyone who said this was good on booktok.”

The women-in-STEM angle is the real draw. Even reviewers who hated everything else praised this aspect. Olive’s academic struggles, sexist colleagues, funding battles, and imposter syndrome resonated universally. If you’re in STEM or care about that representation, this book delivers.

The audiobook is the superior format. Callie Dalton’s narration got consistent praise across reviews. One reviewer who rated it 1.5 stars still said the narration was “bangin’.” If you’re going to try this, go audio.

It’s a debut novel, and it shows. Hazelwood improved significantly in later books according to readers who’ve read her whole catalog. One four-year-later re-reader noted, “This is very easily the weakest of Ali’s books but I love that. Because this was still good and her newer stuff is truly phenomenal.”

The fake-dating trope works until it doesn’t. The setup is absurd (kissing a stranger to prove you’re over someone?), but once you accept the premise, the trope delivers cute moments. Until the miscommunication drags on so long you want to shake both characters.

THE QUESTION NOBODY’S ASKING

Why did a book that started as Star Wars fanfiction outsell 99% of traditionally-conceived romances?

Because fanfic writers understand character dynamics and reader service better than most commercial authors. They’ve been writing for immediate audience feedback for years. Hazelwood knew exactly which tropes her audience wanted (fake dating + grumpy/sunshine + workplace romance + size kink) and delivered all of them. The execution may be messy, but the instincts are sharp.

THE VERDICT

Read if: You’re in STEM and desperate for representation, you love fake-dating tropes, you have infinite patience for miscommunication plots, or you’re a Reylo shipper who needs this closure.

Skip if: You hate miscommunication-driven romance, you’re tired of “grumpy giant man” heroes, or you need well-integrated diverse representation beyond surface mentions.

Start with the audiobook if: You’re on the fence. Callie Dalton’s narration elevates the material, and you can speed through the slow parts at 1.5x.

Fair warning: This is 376 pages of two smart people refusing to use their words. If that sounds like torture, it will be. If that sounds like your jam, you’ll eat it up.

THE COCKTAIL: The Hypothesis

Ingredients:

• 2 oz cold brew coffee (because Adam only drinks black coffee like the killjoy he is)
• 1 oz Kahlúa (for Olive’s secret sweet tooth)
• 0.5 oz vanilla vodka (the fake sweetness that turns real)
• 0.5 oz pumpkin spice syrup (Adam’s nightmare, Olive’s dream)
• Heavy cream float
• Cinnamon stick for garnish (because we’re classy scientists, apparently)

Instructions: Combine coffee, Kahlúa, vodka, and pumpkin spice syrup in a shaker with ice. Shake until colder than Adam’s demeanor in chapter one. Strain into a rocks glass. Gently pour heavy cream over the back of a spoon to create a float. Garnish with cinnamon stick. Try not to think about the fact that this drink is a metaphor.

Tasting notes: Starts bitter, ends sweet, makes you question your life choices halfway through. Perfect.

THE BOTTOM LINE

750,000 copies sold don’t lie—readers showed up for women in STEM and stayed for the fake-dating chaos. The execution is messy, the miscommunication is exhausting, and the size kink is relentless, but there’s something here that clearly works for a lot of people. Whether it works for you depends entirely on your tolerance for slow-burn agony.

Got intel on books the internet can’t stop arguing about? Send titles my way. But if you’re recommending another 300-page miscommunication fest, include a therapist’s contact info too.