What I appreciate about Flirting Lessons is how Guillory captures the nasty inner voice of anxiety in both Avery and Taylor. Despite being younger than both women, I really related to both of their struggles: Avery's self-esteem issues, her worry that she hasn't done enough in her twenties; Taylor feeling like she doesn't measure up to Erica's new married, home ownership, baby on the way life. This was the first book I've read that so honestly and unabashedly throws the reader into these thought spirals, and then challenges the characters to think differently.
Unfortunately, all other aspects of this book just did not do it for me. I only managed to enjoy this book when I thought about it as a self-help book masquerading as a really, unnecessarily long romance novel.
And when I say all other aspects, I mean:
- This book is 90% dialogue, most of which reads as stiff/unbelievable or is unnecessary. At one point, Avery recounts to Luke in detail a scene that we as the readers already went through. Paragraphs are dedicated to guessing what another character is about to reveal to them: a date location, big news, etc. Too much dialogue is boring/tells me nothing/is downright cringe. At the same time, other parts are used to tell me as the reader things I would have never known before (instead of, you know, building the plot and scenes that would let the characters live through the things I am instead being informed in the 100th conversation of the book). On a minor note, the characters use words that I rarely hear in daily life ("I was being histrionic," Taylor says near the end) - this is fine if this is part of the character's way of speaking, but they feel out of character and take me out as a reader. And speaking of character:
- The characters are so flat. The whole cast feels like ultra-processed food that you get at the supermarket: no ability to trace where any ingredients come from. No hobbies, no mentions of family, the most simple of friendships. No struggles with work, no attunement to the body, no coping mechanisms. And no mentions of the past, or past relationships?? This is especially frustrating given both characters have such one-dimensional framings at the start: the "boring goody 2-shoes" girl, the "heartbreaker commitment-allergic girl." By the end, the characters have changed on paper, but I'm not sure why or whether any of it is really deserved.
- I really struggled with the depiction of queerness in this book. I am mindful of how no one book can bare the burden of being The Authentic Queer Experience (and then, on top of that, The Authentic WLW Experience Between Black Women). That would be an incredibly unfair and irresponsible ask for any story. And, it is genuinely great that more books like this are being published. I went to Guillory's talk at The Battery, and she said something I appreciated - how stories that are happy are deemed as lesser, and how she wanted to show Avery being excited, to lean towards happiness in a literary world that gives more clout to sad stories, stories about struggle, etc. That is all great! But this book literally feels Out of Touch. There are no discussions of either character's relationship to their sexuality outside of Taylor dating every woman in Napa and Avery being excited to be with a woman, which feels disingenuous to each character's whole narrative arc. First queer relationships don't always have to be intense or scary or u-haul esque, but Avery's experience is so flat and doesn't even consider any of these things. The intimate scenes feel so not-complex, which is fine if you weren't barraging the reader every two seconds with how "Taylor has literally slept with all the gay women in Napa." And the depictions of how queer people talk to each other, see each other, think about each other all felt so laced with poison and, to be quite frank, the male gaze. Conquests, lusting over, blah blah blah. The posturing both women did, and the "Sexy" moments, felt like a man had inserted himself into the writer's room. And then outside of the "lusting" - at some times Taylor's friends are just downright mean to each other. All of which would be fine if the story didn't end these moments there! You don't have to make your characters cookie cutter perfect and I would be bored out of my mind if you did! But these moments are often brushed off, taken for granted, or reframed as how friends are and it felt very disappointing to me. I sometimes felt like I was in a more diverse, queer version of the later seasons of SatC when everyone's just being self-interested and rude and calling it friendship.
- If I had a dollar for every time someone laughs, has laughter in their voice, can't help but smile or grin, or "shouts with glee," I could buy all of Guillory's books in hardcover! As someone who used to use these kinds of fillers often, I get it - it's an easy way to create atmosphere, gesture towards intimacy and chemistry, etc etc. But you can't do it on every other page. It feels cheap + lazy, and to be quite frank, a disservice to your story, which has so much untapped potential for more interesting moments
On a final note: Why do these characters keep calling Napa Napa Valley? At Guillory's talk, she calls it Napa. Why is the book different? Was this an editorial choice for readers who don't know Napa is the same as Napa Valley? If so, this is indicative of one of my main gripes with this book, which is that the book does not trust the reader at all to be able to process more than the most basic dialogue to follow a story.
Anyway I read two chapters of an AO3 fic in the middle of finishing this book and it felt like eating a fresh, in-season orange after subsisting on stale toast. I am glad I finished this book but am looking forward to better Valentine's Day reads in the years to come.