Chapter Seven

1. Paragraph begins with: So I got up, showered, and went to see Grace.

Alexis: Any similarities to university traditions the author may or may not have been involved in are purely coincidental.

2. Paragraph begins with: "Less than you might think."

Alexis:Laurie's kind of been a dick in the name of doing the right thing for the past, err, however many pages. I kind of hope it counts in his favour that while he lies to himself, when push comes to shove, he doesn't—he won't—lie to others. He's not Ash (from Glitterland) in that regard.

3. Paragraph begins with: She shrugged and went on in quite a different voice…

Alexis:With this story from Grace, I kind of wanted to parallel Toby a little. Obviously their experiences are quite different and exist in differently gendered contexts, but I feel it ties into the theme of how we perceive and manifest dominance in a world that tends to view dominance very much as one thing or belonging only to certain people with access to certain privileges.

We tend to meet doms fully formed in fiction, full of knowledge and experience, ready to fulfil our sexy fantasies. I guess—as with most things in life—I'm more interested in the journey.

4. Paragraph begins with: They were still smiling, but their hands plucked restlessly…

Alexis:I really wish I was looking at this now and finding it hilariously irrelevant. I really, really wish that.

5. Paragraph begins with: "What did you expect me to say?"

Alexis: It kind of really bugs me that a spice harvested from orchids, served in a drink for royalty by the Aztecs, unknown in Europe until the sixteenth century, and only introduced into its common usage by the most skilled of French confectioners in the 1800s, is now a byword for boring.

6. Paragraph begins with: His eyes flew wide.

Alexis:So, kink and trauma, eh? What a minefield. I guess the first thing to say is that people get to deal with their trauma in whatever fashion they choose, however they like, and if that's via kinky sex then that's none of my business. I do think, however, there is a tendency, especially from the outside, to view kink as deriving from trauma. And, I mean, it should go without saying, as a default position that's…messy. So I guess I wanted to affirm here that, for Laurie and Toby specifically, it's purely and uncomplicatedly an expression of love.

7. Paragraph begins with: "Yeah, he's not well."

Alexis:This book is a bloody nightmare to annotate. It's either all about sex, which I'm too British to feel comfortable talking about. Or else shit that makes me deeply emotional. Which I'm, um, too British to feel comfortable talking about.

8. Paragraph begins with: "You could work on it."

Alexis:Having semi-recently published Something Spectacular, this is a strange and delightful echo to me. Apparently I've been preoccupied by the problems of this or that for a long time. Possibly all my life.

9. Paragraph begins with: "It's an anal hook."

Alexis:Because of this book, readers sometimes ask me for more information about anal hooks. I tend to assume this is, you know, the equivalent of trying to embarrass teacher in class because that's the sort of thing you can easily Google. Also, what are they expecting me to say? The clue here is very much in the name.

10. Paragraph begins with: "That wasn't supposed to sound negative."

Alexis:My core story, I think. Or one of them. As applied to romance, I mean.

Obviously if you murder someone, that very much matters on its own terms.

11. Paragraph begins with: "Yeah. Totally. ‘S'nice."

Alexis:Great British Menu is a reality TV show where fairly established chefs create themed dishes for slightly more established chefs in the hope of winning the opportunity to serve that dish as part of a fancy banquet. I really enjoy it because it's basically talented people displaying their talent for the appreciation of other talented people. But it's also very British in its approach, which means everyone is a self-deprecating neurotic wreck, even when they've produced a legit culinary masterpiece. The initial judging process (with the chef, rather than an external panel) tends to be fairly discursive and collaborative, with the judging chef mostly seeking to understand the other chef's vision, asking nerve-wracking questions like "was this how you intended the potatoes to be" or "do you think the dish has enough sharpness." And in response the chef—if they're pleased with what they've done—will shuffle their feet and say something like, "well, the fish has come out the way I wanted."

This scene, for me, is a fish that's come out the way I wanted. And that's all I say.

(Though, obviously, it may not be a fish I've served to your taste.)

12. Paragraph begins with: "I'm sorry, Toby. But the truth is…"

Alexis:This is probably unsexy.

But honestly, I find the unglamorous bits of sex, the messy bits, kind of the sexiest of all?

13. Paragraph begins with: "That must be some dinner."

Alexis:I'm actually starting to feel faintly embarrassed about the number of times, both relevant and otherwise, I have title dropped in this book.

Am I going to change it though? Hell no.

14. Paragraph begins with: "That bull was nearly Margaret Thatcher, so don't knock it."

Alexis:This is true. There's a weird bronze bull by the station that could have been a statue of Margaret Thatcher. But in a public vote the weird bronze bull won by a landslide.

15. Paragraph begins with: "And that," said Toby triumphantly, "is just semantics, dude."

Alexis:While I was sweating and whining over writing these annotations, a reader, to whom I recommended Untitled Goose Game (I very much recommend Untitled Goose Game, btw), said she would give me a fiver if I found a way to include a HONK within my annotations.

Someone now owes me a fiver.

You know who you are.

16. Paragraph begins with: I shoved him, and his little grinning face, into Debenhams…

Alexis:Debenhams has closed since I wrote this. It's an odd piece of pre-pandemic Oxford nostalgia that I'm kind of glad exists.

17. Paragraph begins with: "The Radcliffe Camera was built in 1737 by James Gibbs."

Alexis:I don't know very much about architecture, but I've always maintained you can recognise the influence of James Gibbs if it has a big pointy bit or looks like a boob.

18. Paragraph begins with: "Because you're insulting me…"

Alexis:This is, of course, a pretty direct reference to Jane Eyre. The scene where Jane confronts Rochester in the garden in the rain and demands her right not only to be loved by him, but her right to be his equal: "Do you think because I am poor, obscure, plain and little that I am soulless and heartless?"

I don't think Toby is deliberately trying to invoke it, but I do think it's in his mind somewhat, especially because he's a character who reaches easily and instinctively for references.

And, of course, I was sort of thinking of Jane Eyre myself a bit while I was writing this book. Although, to be honest, I'm always thinking about Jane Eyre a bit because I'm obsessed with that book. On account of just how balls-to-the-wall bananas it is.

Like, when you get right down to it, Jane Eyre is a pretty radical romance. Rochester is a bastion of worldly authority: he's a man, he's rich, he's educated, etc. Jane doesn't even have access to what little value women were acknowledged to have (beauty and/or family connections). And yet here she stands, powerful in soul and heart and willing to fight. I think, in a genre where we take dukes getting together with governesses for granted, it's easy to overlook just how bold, how extraordinary, this scene, and honestly the book as a whole, is.

I think in the context of For Real, Toby is asserting his right as a nineteen-year-old to have his needs and wants taken seriously. Obviously, as older people, we have a duty to protect those younger than ourselves. But we also owe them trust and respect and the freedom to make their own choices.

Also, I've always thought Jane Eyre is basically femdom. I know Rochester is usually seen as a template for brooding alpha heroes, but that man is, frankly, subby AF. His first textual act is to gallop out of the mist on a big black horse and immediately fall off it at Jane's feet, requiring her aid to get up again. Every time he tries to command her to do anything, he ends up modifying his own behaviour. And by the time he's trying to bigamy up with her, he's literally declared her his god. To be honest, Jane is sort of soft balling at the point she is declaring herself his equal in the rain. Both the book, and Rochester, are pretty convinced she's his superior. Because her passion, her sincerity, and her moral clarity make her so.

I wouldn't go quite that far with For Real because I feel power dynamics should probably stay in the bedroom when it comes to functional relationships. But while Toby is not flawless, and has some growing up to do, it's Laurie who does most of the changing over the course of the book. To be Toby's equal he needs to learn to match him emotionally—to be as honest and as open and hopeful—not just sexually.

19. Paragraph begins with: College, when we finally arrived, blew Toby's tiny mind.

Alexis:If you want to Google Magdalen College Oxford, you can see exactly where Laurie and Toby are right now. You can find a virtual tour on the website.

20. Paragraph begins with: Oh God. Behind the desk was Bob…

Alexis:I still don't know if this was meant to be a homage to Oxford porters or an indictment of them. Can I say both?

21. Paragraph begins with: And I did, driving myself not-so-slowly mad on his fingers…

Alexis:Yikes, I kind of assumed I'd done everything to indicate this was Magdalen without explicitly saying it was Magdalen. But no. Apparently I lacked even that mild circumspection. OH WELL.

22. Paragraph begins with: We lay on the desk, neither of us wanting to move despite the discomfort.

Alexis:I don't think I'll ever tire of writing about Oxford. The colours of its skies in particular.