Blog Tour: The Two of Us by Andy Jones

Today I am excited to be part of the blog tour for Andy Jones' new book The Two of Us. I really enjoyed the story, and you can read my review of the book here. I really enjoyed reading a book in this genre written by a man, and decided to ask Andy about just that - being a man in a female-dominated world!

You can buy The Two of Us as a paperback or an eBook now.

"What is it like to write as a man in the female dominated world of ‘chicklit’?

Hello Chloe, thank for inviting to your very lovely corner of the web. Isn’t it nice here.

So, you want to know what it’s like ‘writing as a man in the female-dominated world of chicklit?’ do you?

Well before we get to the writing part, I can tell you that the being-published part has been an absolute blast. I have been introduced and welcomed into a whole new world (I’ve got that song in my head now), I’ve made some new friends, and the reaction to my book (from men as well as women, I’ll have you know) has been very kind.

As for the ‘writing as a man’ part – well, the way you’ve phrased your question is interesting. The Two of Us is written entirely from the point-of-view of the male lead, William Fisher, and it feels like every other review comments on how refreshing this perspective is. As if I invented the male point-of-view. But the simple truth is, it’s more natural for me to write from this vantage, just as female authors in the genre tend to write from the female standpoint. It’s what we know, after all. I understand men. Well not entirely, I mean I don’t understand myself half the time, but I have a much better handle on the male mind than the female. Mrs Jones will verify this for you.

But I think there’s another reason readers have latched on to this aspect of the book. One that’s not so obvious. The book is not just written from the male point of view, it’s written in the first person present tense. Fisher is an ‘I’, and his actions and experiences are immediate:

I am not going to start apologizing, justifying, or groveling for one thing when I might be in the doghouse for another. That tactic is more likely to make things worse than better.

“I’m sorry about Dad’s,” my mouth says. “I was a bit of a berk.”

Ivy crinkles her brow. “Were you?”

Idiot.

Or…

“We . . . we need to talk,” she says, and inside my chest someone snips the strings that keep my heart suspended behind my ribs. Cut loose, the organ drops and rolls into a place just behind my belly button, where it lies heavy like a stone.

“Yeah,” I say. “I know.”

So maybe that’s why the point of view has had such resonance with readers. Because the narrative mode – the tense, person and point-of-view – all put you right inside the bewildered bloke’s bonce.

In some ways, I feel a little guilty; like a magician revealing the secrets behind a classic trick.

Come closer:

(… the rabbit was in the hat all along …)

(… men are insecure, too …)

But, like Penn & Teller revealing that the deck is marked, I’m not really telling you anything you didn’t already suspect. But I think it’s nice to hear it from the horse’s mouth, as it were.

Other than that, it’s been great meeting the (predominantly female) readers of romantic fiction, and sitting on panels alongside writers like Milly Johnson, Jane Costello, Iona Grey and Heidi Swain. They’re funny, kind, charming, glamorous and they smell nice. Who wouldn’t want to be part of a world like that?"

Thanks so much, Andy!