Chapter Six

1. Paragraph begins with: Oh my God, I can't stop thinking about him.

Alexis:This is, of course, a reference to the ‘La Belle Dame sans Merci' by Keats. Obviously it's mostly just there because it's a reference poetic lil Toby would readily reach for.

But I also liked the way it contributes to the broader themes around perspective and context. Laurie tends to see Toby sincerely as the magical one, a prince from a fairytale. Whereas Toby fears that's illusion. He is the one enchanted, transformed, to be discarded when that enchantment fades.

2. Paragraph begins with: The other big advantage of Joe's is that nobody really cares what I'm doing…

Alexis:I don't know at what point in either the planning or the writing this became my kinky sex and granddad book but here we are.

3. Paragraph begins with: Probably a good thing she's dead.

Alexis:I'm now closer to Laurie than Toby and I still feel this way.

4. Paragraph begins with: So I was a regular twinkle toes after that.

Alexis:Same, Toby, same.

5. Paragraph begins with: Frogs

Alexis:I strongly believe that fiction is fiction, not autobiography, and I'm generally careful to draw from life only in very oblique ways.

Also the author is dead.

But I will say that there are elements of this particular poem that may bear some resemblance to the first poem I ever wrote myself. And yet the position of poet laureate has not yet been offered me. What gives.

6. Paragraph begins with: The weird thing is, I do kind of get poetry.

Alexis:I think part of the reason I gave Toby a kind of instinctive understanding of poetry was to reflect his instinctive understanding of, um, being a dom?

Like, this is the most pretentious thing I've ever allowed to exist outside my own brain, but I do feel there's a kind of correspondence between poetry—the way we respond to poetry—and the dynamics of kink. Gawd. I'm so sorry. This is awful. But I think it's that specific combination of discipline and intense emotion. As in, poetry often reaches us on deep, private, and—I seem to be using this word a lot—instinctive levels. But that doesn't happen spontaneously. It has be created and curated very carefully. And while a lot of the most, err, interesting poetry goes against our expectations—breaks the rules—it's only able to do so because of a full understanding of those rules and expectations.

7. Paragraph begins with: I ask if he wants anything, but he doesn't.

Alexis:As a writer (and, indeed, as a reader), I love dialogue, probably to the extent it's a flaw. Because I tend to write from a single POV, dialogue is one of the few ways I can give very literally the non-POV character their voice, so it's super rare that I back away from direct speech.

Usually when I do it, it's to give characters privacy at particular moments. That's mostly the case here. But I also wanted to try and capture something of the feeling of talking to someone when they're very sick. In that particular situation it's not dialogue in the way we usually think of dialogue since it's not an exchange exactly. It's more a case of seeking and affirming connection. A way of being there.

Basically, it's not what you're saying that matters. It's the act of communication. Which is a perspective that's explored in many other contexts over the course of the book.

8. Paragraph begins with: I nod, feeling a bit of a dork.

Alexis:Sung by Judy Garland, of course. I'm assuming that went without saying. But just in case you were in doubt.

9. Paragraph begins with: I don't need to tell him what I want.

Alexis:People usually remember lemon meringue pie from this book.

But, honestly. I'm pretty proud of the quietly romantic felching.

10. Paragraph begins with: I grin at him. Touch his lips.

Alexis:I feel if any poet was going to approve being used in this context, it would be John Donne.

11. Paragraph begins with: I settle myself between his legs again…

Alexis:This is one of those lines that sneakily pleases me even now. I don't know why my brain went to Christina Rossetti at this moment, but it did. And it feels so right for Toby.

12. Paragraph begins with: I'm not sure what he's getting at.

Alexis:ARH is debating because I'm concerned at having two alls in such close proximity. But given the state Toby is in at the moment, physically and emotionally, and the fact he's generally a passionate and excessive person, I think I'm okay with the echo. I like the idea that he's seeing Laurie constantly in these very superlative terms. All his bones ridged. All his muscles tightening.

13. Paragraph begins with: But it comes out of nowhere, like an awesome sneeze.

Alexis:I know it's kind of a cliché for a younger bloke to be a bit trigger happy, but I think there can be something slightly toxic about the idea that sexual prowess (and sexual domination) require absolute physical control. There's a kind of weird thing in romance novels where heroes will pop a boner at the slightest provocation (when that's the sort of thing one ideally likes to leave with puberty) but they come like wizards in Tolkien. Neither early nor late, but always exactly when they intend to.

I think there's also a lot of heteronormative and phallocentric assumptions muddled up in the idea that the point of sex is for a dick to ejaculate and the ejaculation of the dick heralds the termination of the sex.

14. Paragraph begins with: Shush.

Alexis:It was very disorientating reading this moment so many years after writing it.

I will admit I've written some cringey moments. The wedding scene in Glitterland, for example, or the dinner between Caspian, Arden, and Nathaniel in How to Belong with a Billionaire.

But this one—even though I wrote it and remembered it—took me freshly by surprise.

I was like, Laurie, how could you.