By Alison Cochrun
(Atria, 2021)
I’ve watched too many seasons of both “The Bachelor” and “The Bachelorette.”
I will try to redeem myself by saying I’ve stopped. Haven’t watched for several years. I can thank Colton Underwood. He was a football player who never quite made the NFL and was a contestant on a season of “The Bachelorette” but ultimately got sent home in the rejection limo. Then they made him guy women would woo on “The Bachelor.” I bowed out. The guy was incredibly dull and I didn’t want to watch a whole season that would focus on the fact he was supposedly a virgin. As it turns out, he was gay.
Alison Cochrun’s The Charm Offensive is a gay romance set during a hetero-focused season of “The Bachelor.” Correction: a season of the fictional show “Ever After” which is different in name only plus a few cosmetic tweaks. Cochrun’s reality show plays up the fairy tale factor more blatantly with Charles Winshaw being the show’s Prince Charming who actually wears a crown to meet twenty prospective princesses. What’s shocking—SHOCKING!—is that Charlie hasn’t gone on the show to find love. He’s a wealthy tech genius who got booted from his own company and is trying to rebuild his reputation so he can re-enter the field.
Because geeky tech companies in the Silicon Valley seek hunky Prince Charmings. Surely that’s on the job posting for app creators and game designers. Maybe the way to take a chunk out of Facebook (or that stupid “Meta” rebrand) is to hire a figurehead who’s easier on the eyes than Mark Zuckerberg. It’s possible. I know nothing about tech.
The fact Charlie isn’t looking for love doesn’t sit well with Dev Deshpande, an “Ever After” producer assigned to manage its star. Dev’s been with the show for six years, having watched it since he was ten, fully enrapt with the idea that people can go on the show, fall in love and live happily ever after. Even though most of the relationships don’t last, Dev is still married to the idea that the show offers the potential of everlasting love. As the new season begins, Dev’s trying to build himself up again too, having recently ended his six-year relationship with Ryan, another producer on the show. Ryan had always said he wasn’t looking for longterm; Dev just chose to believe he could will his own ever-after onto them.
Charlie is an awkward reality star. He’s got the good looks—blond and impossibly handsome—but he can barely form a sentence under pressure and his OCD makes him reticent to human touch, a huge problem on a dating show with multiple women vying for his attention and affection.
The book becomes more implausible than the show upon which it’s based when Dev ends up working 24/7 by living in the same house as Charlie. (What kind of employment contract did Dev sign?) Jules, Dev’s best friend who also works on the show, suggests that Dev get Charlie to relax more on the filmed dates with the women contestants by taking Charlie on practice dates—not between Jules and Charlie, but between Dev and Charlie.
Um, what?
Charlie goes along with it because, well, isn’t that what any ridiculously good-looking straight guy in his late twenties will agree to do so he can improve upon dating women whom he’s not really interested in falling in love with?
Are you following? If it seems nonsensical then, yes, you’re following.
Just go with it. I managed to. I’m telling myself it’s because reading The Charm Offensive was my way of getting another taste of “The Bachelor” without committing to a whole maddening season of cat fights, limo cries and icky Fantasy Suite dates where we’re led to believe the guy has three consecutive nights of sex with the final three women. God, I really watched that show. Season after season. And somehow it made me believe in the possibility of love. Shame on me.
Cochrun’s Charlie has anxiety in addition to OCD. He’s also not sure about his sexuality and parts of his journey to figuring that out feel like information dumping as possibilities are explained to him (and the reader). It didn’t bug me since Cochrun chose to bring something different to the romance genre. She ups things by making it so that Dev also deals with mental health issues. Being as I have mental health challenges too, I welcome seeing this in the main characters instead of in a supporting character. (The story progresses in alternating chapters, told in third person, from Dev’s point of view and then Charlie’s point of view.)
Cochrun takes liberties from reality in having every “Ever After” staff member be queer other than its creator. All the queer employees have something good about them. The straight character is a villain. I never got a feel for any of the supporting characters. I expected Dev’s ex to have more of a storyline, playing on the inherently awkward circumstance of Dev and Ryan continuing to work together after a not-so-great breakup. Ryan is only used to advance the plot instead of to create conflict. This felt like a wasted opportunity. The story, as written, is all about Charlie and Dev.
You can guess how things go. It’s a gay romance, folks. Happily ever after is how these stories have to end. Knowing this, it felt like the story went on longer than it needed to. Cochrun had to stick with the show’s structure, with the group of twenty women getting narrowed down to one over two months’ time. Connections happened too soon and the ensuing barriers, miscommunications and jealousies seemed trivial. There’s nothing particularly wrong with The Charm Offensive; I just wanted to get to the predictable ending fifty pages sooner.
The book is better than “The Bachelor” because it’s willing to acknowledge that a dating show about finding love may not actually be about finding love. Stick with romance books instead.
6 comments:
I’m proud to say I’ve never ever watched an episode of “The Bachelor “; That said I do read a lot of romance novels gay and straight alike. I am currently going through Abou of Reading Regency romance novels LoL! I’m going to try to see if I can get this book through my local library thank you very much for your review.
Breezy reading. The title is quite popular so I had a bit of a wait before it was available at my library.
I think somewhere in your review was some good stuff about the book. I think?
These are gay romance novels, Gregory. Release what you think they should be—in other words, don't overthink them—and allow yourself to get caught up in the ride. They're far more enjoyable that way.
You know from my review I really enjoyed this novel. In fact, it's one of my favorites so far. Why? In part because I really liked the main characters and wanted them to get their HEA. But also because Cochrun made great fun of the "Bachelor/Bachelorette" franchise, which it deserves. Plus, I found the writing definitely a cut above what I've seen in novels published by Carina Adores.
Anyway, I'm starting to feel guilty highly recommending books in reviews on my FB group page, then seeing you review them and not liking them as much as I did. Maybe my reviews should be taken with a grain of salt. Just saying.
Thanks for the comment, Rick. Some people love romance novels and some people don't. My biggest struggle is knowing the story is going to end happily ever after, which, in the romance genre, means the protagonist must be coupled. That's a limited view of what comprises happiness. If I look at the Netflix series, "Maid," which I really loved and which lingers with me, the lead character's happiness comes from leaving behind a failed relationship and finally striking out on her own, ready to pursue a dream that is her own. (It's telling too that the TV show that's had the greatest impact on my life is "The Mary Tyler Moore Show." Mary Richards arrives in Minneapolis having left a relationship. She never does find a partner. Her independence inspired me, just as it did so many others.) The entire romance genre ascribes to the belief that happily ever after (or happy for now) requires a love interest. I find that not only predictable but problematic.
Romances appeal to people in positive relationships and people investing great hope in finding love. The genre gives these readers exactly what they want. No problem if that's what a reader wants. When I think about it, most of my manuscripts don't ultimately focus on love but self-realization. I suppose that's more relatable for me. It's harder for me to connect with a romance storyline and to keep cynicism in check.
In my twenties, I loved, loved, loved romantic comedies. They were my favourite movies. The endings were, yes, predictable but I enjoyed the journey because I wanted so much for the (female) lead to find love. Her quest was my quest. She found love. By golly, so would I. Part of having the genre fall from favour for me is that my life hasn't led to HEA and I'm not as invested in the pursuit anymore. (Yes, I look, but often it may simply be to humour myself now. I do a lot of shrugging, too.) My enjoyment has been further diminished since I'm a writer and I see plot lines, tropes and roadblocks all too clearly. It takes away some of the fun. It's like when I would go through haunted houses that didn't seem dark enough. I could see what was coming so the effects weren't so great. I wasn't so scared. (Relieved, for sure, but what was the point of going through the haunted house then?)
I want to like some romances. This one was better than others. I still feel like things were too contrived (e.g., faking dating) and things went on too long since Dev and Charlie connected too soon. (Dev's subsequent jealousies about Charlie "being" with Daphne made no sense to me.) It was fun until it felt like the story was being stretched out to fit within the timeline of a reality show.
Keep enjoying and praising the genre. The people who like romances will appreciate your reviews and follow your recommendations. The people who read my reviews will likely say, "What a sourpuss! Clearly, he's not getting any." They wouldn't be wrong. :)
Great response. Of course, I see (most) of the concerns or reservations you have with gay romance novels...and I overlook them. Like I said, it's the ride for me. Implausibility be damned. I guess they're a form of escape for me.
You might be surprised, but Chris and I don't have the perfect relationship. Seriously. He's what I affectionately call "a guy." In Chris's case, "a guy" is what I jokingly say doesn't have a heart. Or a very small one. His heart was the size of a pea until recently, when I got him to watch a number of Hallmark Christmas romances (which he likes, if you can believe it, so maybe there's a heart in there after all). Now, he thinks his heart has maybe increased to the size of a garbanzo bean. I'm hoping for even bigger. A cherry tomato? A brussel sprout? Is it possible?
All of that is to say, when it comes to romance, uh, well, there's not much here. Chris is steady as they come, and I appreciate that like crazy. Plus, I love him like crazy, no doubt about that. But I could sure use some of the stuff I see in Hallmark romance movies and gay romance novels.
Explains a lot, doesn't it?
Makes a lot of sense. I don't know if I've written it in a past post or elsewhere, but my hopes for romance in a relationship were dashed on my first Valentine's Day with someone who mattered. He gave me a framed photo of himself in a hillbilly version of drag, wearing a hoedown frock.
We broke up a month later. (I'm embarrassed to say it was his decision, not mine.)
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