As Netflix’s Virgin River heads deeper into its sixth season and production ramps up for a highly anticipated seventh, not all fans are celebrating. A growing segment of longtime viewers and book purists are voicing

their disappointment over the show’s continued departure from the series of novels by Robyn Carr, which first inspired the cozy small-town romance. Social media and fan forums have become battlegrounds for this debate,

with Reddit threads and Twitter hashtags lighting up with passionate cries of “This isn’t my Virgin River!” For many, the Netflix drama has strayed too far from its literary roots—diluting what made the books special and replacing it

with a tangled web of melodrama that, according to some, resembles a soap opera more than a heartfelt romance.

The Core of the Conflict: Jack and Mel’s Oversized Spotlight

At the center of fan discontent is the overexposure of Jack Sheridan and Mel Monroe’s storyline. Played by Martin Henderson and Alexandra Breckenridge, Jack and Mel are undoubtedly the beating heart of the series, capturing audiences with their romance, emotional trauma, and the idyllic charm of the Virgin River backdrop. But viewers argue that the show’s tunnel vision on this couple has come at the expense of the rich ensemble and rotating romantic arcs that defined Carr’s original novels.

“In the books, each character gets their moment,” one Reddit user commented. “One couple’s story would shine, they’d find love, and then fade gently into the background to make room for someone new. The show, though? We’ve been stuck in Jack and Mel’s world for six seasons.”

This sentiment is echoed by many who feel the show’s structure should have mirrored the novels more closely—offering season-long spotlights on different characters, resolving their arcs, and rotating them into secondary roles. Instead, characters like Preacher (Colin Lawrence), Paige (Lexa Doig), Brie (Zibby Allen), and Brady (Ben Hollingsworth) are introduced with compelling storylines only to be left hanging, their narratives stretched over seasons with little resolution.

From Gentle Romance to High-Octane Soap Opera

Another bone of contention is the show’s increasingly dramatic tone. Where Robyn Carr’s books were known for their slow-burn romance, tender character development, and small-town charm, the Netflix series has evolved into a complex, sometimes chaotic tapestry of overlapping subplots.

“There are just too many storylines at once,” a viewer lamented. “By Season 5, we’re juggling six different dramas, from medical emergencies to drug cartel entanglements. It’s exhausting.”

Indeed, what once was marketed as a romantic escape has begun to feel more like Riverdale than Virgin River—a comparison even fans themselves are starting to make.

“I’m still watching,” one user admitted, “but now it’s with my Riverdale heart, not my Virgin River heart.”

Storylines that once felt grounded and intimate now come across as overwrought. Take, for example, the Charmaine baby saga—a plot borrowed from the books but heavily altered for television, resulting in narrative inconsistencies and character confusion. Even elements that originated in the novels, such as complex romantic entanglements or familial secrets, are often reassigned to different characters in the show, leaving book fans bewildered and frustrated.