Amen! I think you have to turn in your man-card for reading anything turned out recently. Endlessly-emoting vampires and female-focused porn are all there seems to be anymore (or, at least, all “they” talk about).
Give me David Drake and “Hammer’s Slammers”. I want Kenneth Robeson and his “Doc Savage”, but only after I get my teeth into Neville Grant and “The Spider”. And throw at me all the speculative sci-fi from the pulps to the ‘80s you can find (William Gibson and “Neuromancer” work, even though Hollywood is making it gay-oriented in a month or two).
They can have all their wedding angst, relationship paranoia, and “Hunger Games” money grabs and be welcome to ‘em.
Try “Murderbot Diaries”.