📖 💋 What Happens in Book Club 💋 📖 (F4A) (Old Friends to Lovers) (Debating Smut) (Arguing to Flirting) (Flirting to Kissing)

Transcript

Hello, and there's one of you. What is wrong with our friends? This is so rude.

Thank you for coming. I appreciate it. And I know you weren't even that enthused about this book.

You are a good one. No, you will still get the full fanfare. Welcome to the most prestigious book club in the universe, being that you don't have to have read the book and you have to bring alcohol.

Welcome, welcome. Inside sits decant your goods. So did you actually read it? Are you sure? I won't hold it against you.

Too much. So what do you think? Easy.

What kind of how you are very pretentious for someone who doesn't read that often. I said what I said. You little snob.

Easy, how dare you? Easy implies there's no worth to it. Easy implies.

Oh, anyone could have written this. I haven't written this and neither have you. Show it some respect.

Doesn't all art deserve respect? On some level. Just for the sheer bravery of it being made in the first place, like someone thought, you know what? Fuck it.

I'm going out of my comfort zone. I'm going to write this. And even if it's shit, it doesn't matter because I dug deep and was brave.

Oh, you're so mean. Don't be mean to artists. They're sensitive enough as it is.

Speaking as one. Oh, how dare you insinuate my journaling is not art. Take it back, or you shall be smited with the smite of a smiter.

I may have had a drink before you arrived. Because it is time to unwind and speak with like-minded people. Because it is time to unwind and speak with like-minded individuals about art, even if it is easy art.

I can't believe I'm friends with such a snob. Easy. No, you are entitled to your opinion.

In fact, you're right. I will take easy. That means it's accessible.

It is reader friendly. It doesn't create pretension around its subject matter. It is easy as a compliment.

I will find a way for you to say complimentary things about this book because I liked it. Oh, you are testing me tonight. What is there to compliment? Jesus.

Because there are lesbians, there are tits, there is angst, there is female rage. What planet are you on where you're not like, yes, this, more? So what if it's the same story we've heard 10,000 times? Isn't that kind of the whole point of art? To see our experiences reflected back at us, maybe with outcomes we would dare to be brave enough to do or have.

You are in a very sarcastic slash nihilistic mood. So what else didn't you like about it? No, you are entitled to your opinion, even though it's incorrect.

No, this is a free floor. We are not creating echo chambers. Speak thy mind.

Oh, mine speaker. Cause I know you want to. I won't cry.

I promise. Son of a mother of a gun of a horse. Oh.

Tepid. Lackluster. Trite.

What GCSE literature class did you just come from? Trite. What is trite about a woman escaping witchcraft with her lesbian lover in defiance of societal expectations?

I ask you that. I will never understand your tastes. But as I said, you are entitled to it, so.

I get it, you didn't like it. I don't understand why, but you didn't, so. That's that, I suppose.

Didn't you even enjoy the romance? Oh, but it's the best trope. Friends to lovers.

This is so cute and candid and wholesome and then sometimes spicy and exciting. It's just the best one. And it's usually the one where people are less dickish, cause enemies to lovers, full of dicks.

Rivals to lovers, full of dicks. And it's just like, kind of sours it for me. Ah, you and your serious love interests.

You can be serious and goofy. That exists. You can be seriously goofy.

Or a character can be goofy and not be goofy at all. Seriously goofy. Or a character can be goofy about themselves but serious about their partner.

Have you ever thought of that? I don't know, it's just the serious love interests, they're so. ..

Boring? And I know that's kind of their appeal, they're kind of meant to be mysterious and like, hard to reach and you never really get that level of domesticity with them, but really, when I think about my own love lives, like, was that, would that be what I'd want? Someone I could never really laugh with or fart in front of or show memes to? Probably not? And I'm not ruining the trope for the people, like, if you like that, that's great, but for me, it's just like, where's the core?

Where's the reality? Where's the human? Where's the fallible? Where's the fragile? And not in the, oh no, one perfect tear rolled down his perfect cheek, it's like, nah, nah, nah, nah.

Where's the snot and the vomit and the realness and the vulnerability and oh my god, I'm disgusting, please don't turn away from me, where is it? It was in this easy, trite book. Because the lady had been almost burnt at the stake, she was covered in burn scars, her girlfriend saw that she had all these oozes and sores and icks and she wasn't repulsed and it wasn't just like a little bit of a sore, it was like it had fucked up her face and her body, the parts of herself that she was most proud of before because she was a beauty and her friend still loved her, why can't you see that's beautiful?

You didn't even get to that bit! I knew you hadn't read it, you. ..

Okay, no comment, you have to finish reading it and then you can tell me what you think. Because you're judging it and you haven't even finished it! That's like only getting to know someone for 30 minutes and then being like, I know everything about them and they will never change and I can write an essay on them.

No, that's not how that works. Because you have to examine the details. I think if you give it one more chance, you'll see things you didn't see before and you'll be like, you know what, she's right, this is amazing, I eat my words.

I just think that's gonna happen. But am I optimistic or am I just correct? You shut your face and read the book, you will like it.

Because I have many things like great tits, great ass, great hair and, most importantly, great taste. Aww, did you just say I have great tits? Someone's had a drink here.

Hehehehe. Hmm. Nobody.

Hmm. Uhhh. Where's the romance in that? I like a story with romance, leave me alone.

Well, one, because I'm a girl, two, because I'm female, three, it's cute as shit. Need I say more? I don't think so, I think taste speaks for itself.

Because I am a person who dabbles in emotions and I want my stories to do dabbling in emotions too. Doesn't always have to be romance, it can be an epic friendship or an epic mother and daughter or whatever, but there has to be a call. I can't just be like, guns, boom, boom, boom, and men, boom, boom, boom, and secrets and superstition.

It's like, nah, where's the meat? I'm not saying they're not good works of art, I'm just saying they're not for me. Which is what you should have respectfully said about my choice, but no, you didn't even finish it.

You didn't even get to the core. You, I'm going to read and eat your words. Or at the very least, you're going to be like, you know what? Might not be my cup of tea, but that was some good lesbian smut.

I should know, I've written enough fan fiction. And I will not apologize for my cringey hobbies. They got me through some very dark times.

Lots of paragraphs about pale breasts and stiff nipples. I had some inspiration right under my nose. My magnificent bounty, what else? We should do book club more often.

If it involves putting vodka in a cold cup and talking smack with you, I'm down. Even if we disagree wildly on what makes a good book. Speaking of which, that wasn't always so.

We used to share books, don't you remember? You know, back when we were sweaty and awkward and adorable. You're still sweaty and adorable.

You used to like romance. Yes, you did. I remember you specifically getting watery-eyed over that tragedy with the fantasies.

And the mer-woman and the guy who tried to be a mer-man, but something happened with a contract and that's it. See, you haven't always had a heart of stone. So what happened? Did you just become serious and old? Then.

.. What do you mean? Oh, for goodness sake.

You, with your pouty face and your. .. Well, if it's always just gonna stay a fantasy, I don't want to read about it.

Stop it! Feeling sorry for yourself and being like, oh well, it's never going to compare, so I'll never. ..

You! You! You always do this, you rob yourself of joy.

And I have no idea why, because there's a bounty to be had. In both life and books. No, you close yourself off from opportunities and you can never take accountability for that.

Et de pa pa pa pa, ha! I've seen people show an interest in you and you shirk them off like they've got the plague. Listen, as a fellow anxious avoidant, I understand.

But you can stop it with the self-pitying. No one even likes me anyway, so I'm not dabbling in that. Because self-pity, while sometimes necessary, is.

.. Very unattractive. And no, that doesn't mean don't complain about your life, it just means, don't be, it's never going to change and I can do nothing about it, because that is defeatist bullshit.

Okay? And I do not frolic with defeatist bullshit. You are better than that.

And that's really the reason you don't read romance anymore. I say what I say next with compassion. You need to get back on the horse.

And I know that sounds like I'm brushing this off and being like, it's no big deal. No, I understand. You are scared, you have been hurt, your expectations have not been met.

I getcha. Valid. However, nothing is going to change if you stay here, in the dark, in your flat, doing nothing about it.

Faint heart never won fair lady. You've got to believe in yourself and you have to believe in romance. You can't just be waiting to be proved wrong.

That's not how the world works. And the more you do the self-pitying, self-isolating bullshit of, well, it's never going to happen anyway, so I'll just close myself off to it, no. Your brain already has that bias, so you're just looking for things to confirm that bias.

Your brain is a liar. It's taking a tiny subsection of information and saying, this is the only truth, I would know, mine does it too. I say this as someone who loves you dearly.

Get back on the horse. Read the goddamn book, kiss a girl, have sex with someone, go on a date, hold someone's hand, show an interest, do something. You can't just sit on the sidelines and go on a date.

Go on a date, hold someone's hand, show an interest, do something. You can't just sit on the sidelines and complain. Again, speaking from experience, it just made me miserable.

I've had varying degrees of success. No, nothing particularly meaningful, but you know what, I have tried, I can say that. I can say that.

Can you say the same? In how long? Maybe a few years too many then.

Listen, I know it sounds like I'm being harsh, but I just can't be a part of this whole. .. whatever this is.

Because you could be happy and you could be enjoying amazing, easy books. Instead of closing yourself off and saying, well actually you're fine statistically. People defy statistics all the time.

And I know that sounds naive and stupid, but. .. What, do you want to be informed and miserable? And yes, I get it, there's nuance and you can't just be black and white one thing like everything is sunshine and rainbows and everyone's amazing.

No, I understand.