“The Gentlemen,” Female Agency, and the Horrors of Parental Control

(Spoilers for “The Gentlemen” series.)

I’ve been watching the new Netflix series, “The Gentlemen,” this week. I loved it. I mostly watched it for Theo James (for the obvious reasons), and he’s wonderful as Eddie Horniman. Very stoic and understated.

But the real star of the show is Kaya Scodelario, playing Susie Glass. Scodelario stands up to James both in terms of stoicism and acting chops. She doesn’t completely steal scenes from him but I was watching her more than James in their scenes together. She’s eye-catching, no question, wearing flashy velvet and diamanté in glowing colors, red lips blazing, her eyeliner razor sharp. But that’s not what got my attention so often. She enters almost every scene with her chin up like she’s giving the other characters a target to hit. And she takes a lot of hits, barely ever flinching.

As characters, Susie Glass and Eddie Horniman are in similar positions. Susie’s running her father’s criminal empire while he’s serving a dime in prison. Eddie’s inherited his father’s estate, rather unexpectedly since he’s the second son. In doing so, he’s inherited his older brother’s debts as well as the, ahem, “alternative” farm that Susie’s family is growing under the dairy. Neither Susie nor Eddie seem to want the responsibilities they’ve taken on, but they’re not shirkers. They both rise to every occasion and find that running a criminal empire is something they’re rather good at, separately and togther.

Susie and Eddie also have similar parental pressures on them. Susie’s father dictates every element of how Susie runs his business. He rarely takes Susie’s suggestions into account, and when things take a turn for the seriously worse in Episode 6, he tells her to go home and put her feet up while he takes care of business. Susie has been supremely competent to this point. She has a reputation in the criminal underworld of being so fair and true to her word that just dropping her name gets Eddie out of some very sticky situations. Although she says she makes “a point of not getting shot at,” when she comes under fire repeatedly (including at machete-point), she handles it. But her father sidelines her when the going gets tough and Susie defers to her father right to the end.

As a woman who runs her own business, this kind of thing easily enrages me. I see it so often in my day job – the questioning of women’s competence despite them having greater qualifications and experience than their male peers, the claim that a businesswoman is reacting “emotionally” instead of logically (with the implication that a woman’s emotional response cannot be trusted). It triggered me the same way that “Sicario” enraged me, so I was going to rant about it.

But I think it’s a mistake to conflate “The Gentlemen” with “Sicario.”

Thinking more about it, looking closely at Susie Glass’s character, and pondering why a show titled “The Gentleman” would revolve around a woman wrestling for control of her father’s criminal empire, I realised “The Gentlemen” isn’t a misogynistic narrative. Susie’s father does sideline and undermine her. But no moreso than Eddie’s aristocratic mother subverts him. Eddie’s had a ridiculous mess dumped on him – a mess his mother knew about but doesn’t even clue him in on. Although his mother throws Eddie a couple of bones through the series (in very much the same manner as Susie’s father), she mostly leaves him to muddle through the mess on his own, while casting a disapproving eye over his efforts. She’s the one who constantly pressures Eddie to get out of business with Susie, despite the fact that this business saved her husband’s estate and has supported her resulting lifestyle. Even in the face of Eddie not just successfully navigating the business but clearly enjoying himself, she’s still telling him to get out until he finally sucks her into his scheme.

Interestingly, neither Susie nor Eddie achieve independence. They take out their enemies together, but they’re not free of parental control. It’s the terms that have been renegotiated. They’re no longer running the criminal empire for their parents’ benefit. They’re running it for themselves. It may be a limited kind of agency, but for adult children of manipulative parents, it might be the best we can get while still maintaining a friendship with our families. I find that a much more nuanced, resonant, and personally appealing, story than “Sicario.”

Ulune’s Daughter: Don’t Annoy the Teddy

Have you been hankering to know what happens with Teddy and her family after Quaternion? You get a peek at them during Capricorn, but they play an even bigger role in Kellan’s story. I’ve attached a full chapter from Ulune’s Daughter to catch everyone up with Teddy and her boys:

Book Review: Not A Peep by M.T. Addams

This is my first read of the year and what a way to kick off the New Year. Fingers crossed every read after this will be as good!

I’ve read another book by this author (Summon Us) that I liked and picked this one up to enjoy more of the author’s snappy, realistic writing. The author really hits their stride with this book. There were so many things I liked about it: the scrappy but also vulnerable heroine, the diverse characters, and the very steamy scenes. The “group activities” in this book are just 😘😘😘. I’m not usually a fan of “two-in-one” scenes (I wince just thinking about the ouch), but this author made it work. The reverse age-gap (older heroine, younger “harem”) and teacher/student angst told from her perspective also really worked for me.

Thinking back over the whole book, there’s one thing that really stood out to me. It’s a little bit of a spoiler, but I think other readers will like it, too, so I’m going to mention it. One of the “heroes” (who are all morally grey) is a cinnamon roll and when he starts pouring his sugar all over the heroine, she could have caved and gotten sucked into a toxic power-exchange. Instead, she resists. There was a moment where I was rooting for her to give in to him because her resistance clearly hurts the guy. But I think that’s a brilliant touch of characterisation by the author. The heroine knows that the situation the guys have her trapped in is not healthy, not sustainable, and she fights back to gain equality within the foursome instead of just becoming their “dolly.” I really liked that. 

Highly recommended and a great start to 2024!

Read Not A Peep by M.T. Addams here.

Ulune’s Daughter is here …

I was delighted to give my patrons and ARC readers the Christmas present of the next book in the Bevington College series, Ulune’s Daughter, and am now releasing it to readers on all platforms for the New Year.

This book ended up being high angst. One of my alpha readers said the book made her need an emotional support animal (my favorite reader-reaction to any of my books). The stakes for Professor Kellan Wyndham are nothing less than her whole career as she announces the magickal discovery of the century to the Unseen World but also gets seduced into a secret relationship with several students. Throw in a pair of sneaky Cait shifters who are courting and claiming their fated mate and it’s a brew with explosive potential.

What drew me most to this story is Kellan’s journey. She’s navigating a spotlight moment. All eyes are on her as she reveals her discovery on Isla Cedros. Being in the spotlight is uncomfortable for Kellan, who is a loner by nature and has become almost a recluse after years of solo excavation on Isla Cedros. Although she has friends like her mentors Jane Serpa and Carrie Prince at Bevington and her “girl gang” of Teddy Nowak and Rachel Arisdaughter to lean on, even these relationships stretch thin when Kellan’s evolving magickal powers put those close to her in danger.

Good thing Cait Sidhe fear nothing …

Meet the new bad girl of Bevington College in Ulune’s Daughter.

(And there really is an emotional support piskie sheep at the front of the book to help readers through. 😉 Keep an eye on my Facebook reader group for piskie sheep book box giveaways.)

“The Other Woman” and the Five Stages of Grief

It’s worth studying The Other Woman not just for Taylor Kinney’s beard but for how the stages of grief can be portrayed both humorously and poignantly.

(Spoilers for The Other Woman.)

I’ve mentioned before that I usually have a movie playing while I write and one I’ve had on repeat this summer was The Other Woman. I like the movie’s energy and the cast are very pretty to look at.

There’s a particular scene that always makes me focus on the movie rather than just letting it be white noise punctuated by Leslie Mann’s antics and Taylor Kinney’s beard. Leslie Mann’s character Kate is standing on a beach in the Bahamas as the sun rises. She’s finally come to terms with the end of her marriage and throws her wedding ring into the ocean. The rest of her girl gang joins her and they sit in the sand together watching the sun rise. The music (Britt Nicole’s lovely voice) soars and the reader is reassured that Kate is going to make it through her trials. It’s an emotionally cathartic and satisfying moment.

It struck me today while watching that it’s also the moment Kate reaches the end of the five stages of grief (denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance). Unusually, I think, all five stages are shown in the film. I can think of plenty of films that show one or two of the stages (or have a character stuck in one of the stages like The Prince of Tides), but not many that show a character going through all five stages.

Romance writers frequently have characters going through the grief process. Whether it’s the end of a previous relationship or a family death, a major loss is often the catalyst for the main character’s romance with the new love interest. It’s worth studying The Other Woman not just for Taylor Kinney’s beard but for how the stages of grief can be portrayed both humorously and poignantly.

Fire In The Sky Coloring Page

I didn’t think kids were in my future. I’ve always known there was one girl for me. And I never thought she’d be mine, much less that she’d want a family.

I’m working on a bonus novella for a Teddy’s Boys/Gabe’s Girl/Quaternion box set. Teddy and her boys celebrate their five year anniversary with a flight on the Hindenburg. I’ve done a coloring page to while away the hours when I should be writing. And here’s a sneaky peek …

Charlie

I find my wife sitting in a corner, a picture book spread across her knees, her fingers tracing a picture of a zeppelin. 

The book’s bottom edge rests against the small swell of her stomach, a bump she’s developed over the last month. It’s still strange to think of our babies, growing safe and cozy behind her belly button. I find myself waking at strange times of night and rearranging whatever puppy pile the four of us have ended up in so I can spoon her, curling my hand around that little bulge. 

Kids.

I’ve always wanted kids. I love being a big brother to my little sister. I’m crazy about my cousins. Put me in a room with a baby and I’ll be the one playing peek-a-boo with them before an hour’s out. But I didn’t think kids were in my future. I’ve always known there was one girl for me. And I never thought she’d be mine, much less that she’d want a family.

It still blows me away every day when I wake up beside her. Sometimes, it still feels like one of those fantasies I had when we were teenagers and so far apart, a whole ocean separating us. Then she opens her eyes, those big brown eyes I fell into when we were eight and never swam back out of. And the smile on her lips spreads up to her eyes when she sees me watching her. She whispers, “Caveman,” and wriggles closer to me.

Sometimes, I pull her into my arms and enjoy her in our bed until one or both of my co-husbands wakes and joins us. Sometimes, I wake feeling selfish and drag her into the shower with me for underwater head. Whatever mood I wake up in, I also wake eternally grateful to the Mother for giving me this woman, this life. I can’t imagine any other.

And now kids. Twins. 

I’m just waiting on a cover for the box set and then I’ll put up a preorder …

Book Reviews: “Minx” and “Wild Souls”

I cannot recommend these two books highly enough. Although very different, they have the same beauty to them: of love that flowers in rocky ground and changes the landscape around it.

I was extremely lucky in my reading selections this week and was blessed with two beautiful books at the opposite ends of the spicy spectrum. Both deserve many more than 5 stars.

The first is Minx by Sophie Lark. This is a standalone, billionaire romance with a neurodivergent, sex-worker heroine. It is super spicy with some of the best pet play I’ve read. It has “Pretty Woman” vibes but is better because the heroine has such a solid sense of her own worth. The hero has deep insecurities that are improved with the heroine’s love and it’s beautiful to watch their relationship develop. Although they’re both cynical people, through the pet play, they lower their barriers and let trust evolve. It’s a book that moved me. I read it in KU and then bought a copy for my library because I will read it again and again. The interior artwork is absolute fire.
Read Minx here –> https://amzn.to/3PTGvtH

The second is Wild Souls by Faith Prince. This is a standalone, New Adult romance. It’s PG. There’s a little kissing; there are some adult themes including bullying and SA (off screen), but they’re delicately handled. Absolutely a book a high schooler could read. This is normally not my lane. I like my spicy books. I didn’t even notice the lack of spice until I was writing a review because I was so enamored of the romance and the worldbuilding. I’m not sure it’s right to call the hero neurodivergent because although the book has a contemporary setting, it feels a little paranormal. The hero “sees souls.” This has caused him a huge amount of anguish as he sees the evil in many of the hearts around him. He’s withdrawn and isolated, until he meets the heroine. She’s a warrior. Her father, a wayward musician, has a motto, “live free.” The father uses it selfishly, to duck his responsibilities to his daughter; the daughter lives it. She helps the hero live it, too. What kept me reading wasn’t just the beauty of these two characters falling for each other, but the descriptions of the souls the hero sees. They’re achingly, heart-wrenchingly described. The language in this book is so beautiful, I kept flipping back and re-reading passages to enjoy the descriptions again and again. This is another book I read in KU and then bought for my permanent library. 
Read Wild Souls here –> https://amzn.to/44ovgxv

I cannot recommend these two books highly enough. Although very different, they have the same beauty to them: of love that flowers in rocky ground and changes the landscape around it.

The Goonies, or How to establish an ensemble in four minutes

An examination of The Goonies’ opening sequence for tips on how to introduce a character ensemble without losing pace.

I typically have a movie playing while I write. I have a rotation of these movies. They’re movies that I’ve loved for a long time, like Dirty Dancing and The Breakfast Club. They’re movies that fire me up, like Bladerunner or Aliens. I recently added The Lost City to the roster just for the leeches scene. On weekends, I almost always start with the 1985 film, The Goonies, which I love for the soundtrack and the nostalgic sense of childhood adventure.

The movie has a lot of merits.1 The cast is wonderful, including Sean Astin, Josh Brolin, Jeff Cohen, Corey Feldman, and Ke Huy Yuan. Although there is a main protagonist (Sean Astin’s character, Mikey), it’s a true ensemble piece and works best when the seven protagonists are “on stage.” Having written my own ensemble pieces with four main characters, I appreciate the talent it takes takes to juggle seven central characters without some of them getting sidelined. There’s a surprising amount of character development for a movie that is, at heart, an adventure. And it’s all done in less than two hours. The pace never slacks and every moment of the film serves multiple purposes: advancing three separate plot lines (defeating the evil Fratellis and freeing Sloth; recovering the pirate treasure and saving the characters’ homes from the rich developers; Mikey’s older brother romancing the love interest away from her rich but sleazy boyfriend). It’s an impressive feat of storytelling.

While watching the movie for the thousandth time, I noticed the way the film introduces the main characters in the opening scene. This could have been a mish-mash. There are seven characters to introduce; that is a lot of characters to throw at the viewer in one scene (plus the three antagonists who are leading the car chase). There’s no background framing, despite there being a lot of backstory to this movie with the treasure hunting/pirate subplot (which is dealt with in a later scene so full of wonder and character development that it deserves its own analysis).

The film starts in media res with a jail break and a car chase. The car chase winds through the beach town setting, passing each of the protagonists. Each character either interacts with or observes the car chase in ways that illustrate their defining characteristics. By the end of the scene, the viewer knows who these kids are (the adventurous group leader, the jock older brother, the cheerleader love interest, the inventor, the “fat kid” comic relief, etc.). This is all done in a scene that lasts less than four minutes.

It’s particularly impressive that the opening scene in The Goonies establishes the characters and the plot conflicts without an info dump. Without any authoritative narration. There’s a sustained action sequence which is both exciting and funny (setting the tone for the whole movie). The ways the seven protagonists react to this seminal event allow the viewer immediate access to their characters and build empathy without manipulating the viewer. The introductions are done with very deft touches, which would constitute just a few sentences in literary form, introducing each character in a memorable way via their “funny hat.” For example, the inventor character is introduced wearing a trench coat that contains all of his wild gadgets (in an obvious reference to the 1982 Inspector Gadget animated TV show). Similarly, the love interest is introduced wearing her cheerleading uniform. When these characters appear again, even after the introduction of several other characters, the viewer immediately knows who they are. In his wonderful Masterclass, Neil Gaiman advises writers to give characters metaphorical “funny hats” to make them identifiable by readers without making them into caricatures. This opening scene is the perfect application of that advice.

It’s no secret that I’m a proponent of the in media res opening. The first scene of The Goonies is a great example of that kind of opening, taking it a step further to introduce a large ensemble cast of characters. It is well worth studying and emulating.

Footnote

The Goonies is not a perfect movie. Screenwriter Chris Columbus and director Richard Donner might be applauded for featuring a diverse cast, but there’s an ugly undercurrent of racism in the way some of the PoC characters are portrayed (particularly the hispanic housecleaner). Columbus’ movies (which include Home Alone, Mrs. Doubtfire, and two of the Harry Potter movies) often feature absentee parents (particularly mothers), which gives the protagonist children unsupervised space in which to have their adventures. The Goonies is no exception. The parents are clueless, bumbling, and generally absent until the end of the movie. This appeals to me as a Gen Xer, since it echoes my own childhood experience, but it makes for uncomfortable viewing as an adult with a child of my own. I find the scenes where the villainous mother, Mama Fratelli, abuses her two adult children for comic effect difficult to watch and often skip them. While making allowances for the age of the movie, I can still think critically about those elements of the movie which make it problematic nearly forty years later and ensure that I avoid them in my own storytelling.