I used to think I loved adventure stories because I’d grown up on them. The truth, I’ve realized, is a bit stranger. I’d rather watch bloody violence and explosions than sit through those gut-wrenching nail-biting moments of social awkwardness that fill so many romances, dramas, and comedies. Those moments fill me with a vicarious squirmy awfulness—the characters may experience emotional or social anguish, but my response is visceral, often literally painful. 

When I last reflected on this in my review of Trying…