by Holly Bourne
I knew what they were looking for. Mr Packson had explained how they worked and I knew they wanted me to pull the question apart. To show my wider reading, to show how I could think rationally, to show I was capable of independent thought (as long as I was referencing a lot of published academics’ independent thought).
They weren’t asking this so I could tell them about my video channel.
But that was what I was doing to try and eradicate gender inequality. And I was proud of it. I was so, so proud of it.
“Charlotte?” the professor prompted, looking unimpressed.
I hadn’t answered. I hadn’t said one thing. I knew I was standing on the edge of something – that this was a moment in my life that would become a “before” and “after”. I knew I wanted to leap off…but everything I’d ever been taught was to comply and behave in these sorts of situations.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, trying to buy time to sort myself out. “I’m thinking.”
It came out so much more aggressively than I’d hoped. Professor Brown raised an eyebrow. Julian was kinder about it.
“Maybe if you think out loud, Charlotte? Then we can see how you get to your answer?”
Oh no, I was choking. I was totally choking. And I hadn’t brought up the fact they were both male yet…if I was going to… What was I going to do…? This was my last chance to decide. Be a drone? Be who they wanted me to be? Suck it up for a day? It’s just one day! Learn how to pick my battles? Learn some fights aren’t worth the sacrifice? That sometimes, just sometimes, it’s okay to let things go? Especially if it’s for a better outcome in the long run?
I still wasn’t talking. It was getting awkward now. I probably had thirty seconds left before they wrote me off… The nerves got to her…such a shame… But I wasn’t nervous about the thing they were assuming I was nervous about.
When you want to fight for what you believe in, you come across a lot of obstacles. People who don’t agree with you, people who agree with you but only some bits, people who delight in ripping you down, people who are threatened by the strength of your belief.
But I was beginning to realize, the biggest hurdle to overcome was the hurdle of yourself.
Was I going to sabotage myself?
Or, actually, was I going to set myself free?
I remembered what Megan had said: “Think back to the beginning, Lottie. What made you want to do this in the first place?”
And I remembered the train, and the line, and flicking the switch. And that knowledge, deep inside of me, that I never wanted to be the one flicking it.
I wanted to be the sort of person who could face themselves in the mirror.
I wanted to be the sort of girl who knows you’ve got to pull out the bottom bricks of the pyramid, to topple the top ones.
I wanted to be the Lottie who inspired all those emails read out last week, by a roomful of all the best people I’ve ever met.
I wanted to change things on my own terms, to show that there’s no right or wrong way to change the world. There’s no entry test. You don’t need to suck anything up. Pay any dues. Just you and your anger and your voice is enough. If you only have the courage to use it.
“Charlotte?”
I looked up, staring them straight in the eye. I opened my mouth to speak.
There is no going back – not once you’ve raised the veil, not once you’ve opened your eyes. You can’t stuff it all back in a box, not once you’ve seen it. You can’t pretend it’s not there.
…So many people pretend it’s not there.
I was not going to be one of those people.
“Well, the first thing I would do,” I said, my voice so confident I didn’t even recognize it, “is ask why it’s two men interviewing me to get into the most prestigious institution in this country. And then…” I paused for breath…
“Then, I want to tell you why I’m asking that.”
the end
a letter from holly
To my spinsters,
When I was twenty-five, I was sexually harassed on my way to work. In fact, what happens to Lottie at the opening of this book is essentially word-for-word what happened to me. I was going through A Very Bad Year, and something snapped in me that day. I knew I wanted it to stop. All of it. I didn’t want any other girl to walk down the street and have that happen to them. That was the day I came up with the idea for this trilogy and the Spinster Club and Evie, Amber and Lottie.
Sometimes I want to thank those horrible, awful men in the van. As, really, they changed my life. Writing these books has changed me – they’ve helped me grow and learn and develop. What’s been so amazing is seeing how you guys have responded to them too. Honestly, I could never have dreamed how funny, angry, strong, honest, brilliant and kick-ass my readers would turn out to be. Whenever you contact me to say you’ve started your own Spinster Club, or stood up to some sexist bullshit, or done a school assembly about International Women’s Day – it warms my heart in such a deep way I can’t even describe it.
Even with three whole books to explore feminism, I felt the spinsters and I have only exposed the tip of the iceberg that is inequality. I wasn’t able to touch properly on feminism and how it relates to race, or disability, or sexuality, or gender identity, or class. Inequality is like a really shit onion, with layers upon layers of oppression pinning down different people in different ways. My experiences of being a woman will be different from yours. Lottie’s, Amber’s and Evie’s experiences won’t be entirely like yours. Also, if you’re one of my awesome male readers, that doesn’t mean you aren’t also oppressed (and doesn’t prohibit you from being a spinster either!).
I couldn’t cover it all. But, what I hoped would happen with these books is that it would inspire you to fight for the change you want to see. To help you realize that, whoever you are, whatever you’ve experienced, whatever hardship you’ve faced, you have a voice and you are allowed to use it. Your voice counts. Your experience counts. Your anger counts. Together we can fight this. Together we are stronger. Together we can fight for a world that is healthier and happier for everyone in it.
I’m writing this on the first proper day of spring 2016, looking out at the daffodils. I don’t know where you are as you’re reading this. But wherever it is, I am reaching through my computer screen, and holding your hand through the pages of this book. I am travelling through time to tell you to GO FOR IT. I want to hear YOUR voice. I want to hear YOUR experience. What happens to you and what you go through matters. Your voice matters. I am passing on the torch. I want to see what fires you start (please, not literally, please always be safe). If these books have started a ripple in you, I want you to take that and make your own ripples.
It’s not easy. Fighting for what is right rarely is. You will have days when you’re too exhausted or angry to speak out. There will be times when it’s not even safe to. Some days you’ll get it wrong, or change your mind, or be a huge hunking hypocrite, and have people drag you across the coals for it. You’ll come across people who are more pond-scum than people. You will find yourself defending your anger, defending your experience, practically daily – not just to The Man, but even to other feminists. Even, sometimes, to people you love and adore. But you’re not alone. Find other people who get it. Start a Spinster Club. Find people who say “Me too”, rather than denying your experience. They’re out there. They care. They understand. If you look for them, you will find them. And it changes everything. It makes the fight so much easier.
Thank you so much for coming on this journey with me. I cannot wait to see what journeys you are yet to go on. The incredible things I believe you are going to achieve. And, of course, the cheesy snacks you are going to devour.
Spinsters – it’s over to you.
TO BE A FEMINIST?
If you’ve been inspired by Lottie’s story and want to start your own Spinster Club, here are a few ideas…
Speak up!
Be the change you want to see. If you see som
ething sexist, call it out if it’s safe for you to do so. Ask questions, demand answers. If everyone did this, we’d get there so much quicker.
Check out Emma Watson’s book club
Hermione *cough* I mean Emma Watson has started an online feminist book club, where you can read along with Hermione *cough* I mean Emma to grow your understanding of different feminist issues.
Help charities
Women’s services are being cut hard and fast, and you can help raise money/volunteer for charities filling these gaps. Seek out charities that you feel passionate about – there’s loads of great info online.
Start a Spinster Club
Honestly! Some of the best feminist campaigns have come out of girls just getting together and chatting about how WEIRD it is to be a girl. Book some time in every week with people you trust and feel comfortable around to just have a big natter. It’s mad how inspired you feel afterwards.
And to get you started, check out…
Holly’s SPINSTER CLUB book list
One of my favourite things about writing the Spinster Club trilogy is that I’ve been on my own feminist learning journey through writing the books. Here are my favourite books I’ve come across while doing my research.
1) HOW TO BE A WOMAN by Caitlin Moran
This half autobiography, half feminist manifesto literally changed my life. It was like my gateway drug into feminism.
2) MEN EXPLAIN THINGS TO ME by Rebecca Solnit
This collection of feminist essays will make you angry, very angry. But in a good way. A way that makes you want to turn all this new-found anger into ACTION.
3) EVERYDAY SEXISM by Laura Bates
This book, based on the game-changing blog of the same name, shoots dead any argument that feminism is no longer needed. A collection of the ridiculous/heartbreaking/head-bashing NONSENSE of the everyday sexism that girls and women face, every day.
4) I CALL MYSELF A FEMINIST: THE VIEW FROM TWENTY-FIVE WOMEN UNDER THIRTY
Something will appeal to everyone in this inspiring collection of young feminist essays. It’s essentially a look at real-life Lotties, Evies and Ambers around the UK and all the kick-ass stuff they’re doing. It also shines a light on some of the lesser-discussed parts of feminism, like experiences of trans women, Muslim women and loads of other brilliant voices. Perfect for dipping into.
5) WE SHOULD ALL BE FEMINISTS by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
Based on her incredible TEDx talk, this manifesto is incredibly short and yet incredibly powerful. It’s a bit like doing a shot of hardcore feminism…in a good way.
SPINSTER CLUB
discussion points
So you’ve bought the cheesy snacks and got the girls on board. Here are some topics to get your feminist fires burning, inspired by Evie, Amber and Lottie’s own Spinster Club discussions.
Name a film that passes the Bechdel test
To pass, a film has to have at least two women in it and they’ve got to have at least one conversation about something other than men.
Do you recognize any cognitive dissonances in yourself?
It’s not always easy to uphold feminist ideals in the face of social norms. Where do you struggle the most?
Why have “spinster” and “feminist” become seen as offensive words?
The Spinster Club began because the girls wanted to reclaim the word spinster and make it mean something positive. But why was that even necessary?
The web can be seen as a negative place where feminists are open to attack. But can it be beneficial too?
Lottie discovers that when you fight for something you believe in, “people are going to swipe at you”. But do the positives of online feminist communities outweigh the negative comments?
Why does feminist behaviour in relationships make people feel uncomfortable?
How can we get people to move past traditional gender roles, like guys being expected to pay the bill on a date, or girls feeling uncomfortable about asking guys out?
How can your class, race, religion, sexuality, gender-identity and disability impact your experience as a woman?
Lottie wants everyone to add to her feminist “duvet” of different female experiences. How can feminist campaigns include more diverse voices?
What made you realize you were a feminist?
For some people, a particular experience, book, or person awakens them to feminist issues, just like Lottie’s experience with the van men prompted her campaign.
And finally, who can make the biggest food baby?!
Bring on the cheese!
SPINSTER CLUB
We’d love to hear about YOUR SPINSTER CLUBS, and your favourite moments from the SPINSTER CLUB trilogy. Join the conversation online and start sharing!
#SPINSTERCLUB
(Virtual cheesy snacks welcome…)
@holly_bourneYA @hollybourneYA
@Usborne @UsborneYA
www.usborne.com/youngadult
usborneYAshelfies.tumblr.com
SPINSTER CLUB TRILOGY
If you’ve enjoyed What’s a Girl Gotta Do? check out the other books in the Spinster Club trilogy…
Don’t miss Evie’s story:
All Evie wants is to be normal. And now that she’s almost off her meds and at a new college where no one knows her as the-girl-who-went-nuts, there’s only one thing left to tick off her list…
But relationships can mess with anyone’s head – something Evie’s new friends Amber and Lottie know only too well. The trouble is, if Evie won’t tell them her secrets, how can they stop her making a huge mistake?
“If I could, I’d make this book obligatory reading for everyone. It’s that good.” Beth Reekles
And follow Amber to America in:
All Amber wants is a little bit of love. Her mum has never been the caring type, even before she moved to America. But Amber’s hoping that spending the summer with her can change all that.
And then there’s Prom King Kyle, the serial heartbreaker. Can Amber really be falling for him? Even with best friends Evie and Lottie’s advice, there’s no escaping the fact: love is hard.
“Finally, an author who GETS it.” Emma Blackery, YouTuber
Find out what happens to Evie, Amber and Lottie beyond college, beyond the Spinster Club, as they reunite for an epic party filled with New Year’s revelations…
Coming November 2016
ALSO BY HOLLY BOURNE
If you’ve fallen in love with the SPINSTER CLUB, don’t miss The Manifesto on How to Be Interesting
Read on for a sneak preview
one
Bree supposed it was quite an achievement really – to be a failed novelist aged only seventeen.
Most people her age didn’t have a clue what they wanted to do with their lives yet. Let alone know, work really hard for it and then fail miserably. She was miles ahead in the life-ultimately-sucks realization that takes most people their twenties and thirties to figure out.
But Bree wasn’t most people. Well, she didn’t think so anyway.
She looked at the rejection letter in her hand, hoping, somehow, if she stared at it hard enough her longing would melt the ink on the page into a “yes”.
Dear Bree
Thank you for your submission. We regret to tell you that your novel isn’t something we think we can take forward BLAH BLAH BLAH.
Generic response. They hadn’t even bothered personalizing it. That’s how much of a failure she was.
Four years ago, when Bree decided to become a novelist, she’d done what she’d always done – obsessively planned, researched and plotted a no-fail manifesto. She’d read everything she could about writing, including a book by Stephen King, aka GOD. He’d apparently been rejected LOADS – so much that he hammered a nail into the wall above his desk to spike all the “no” letters on. Delighted at the self-deprecation of it all, Bree also hammered a massive nail into the perfect plastering of her bedroom wall. And, month by month, year by year, the nail got clogged up w
ith her own swell of rejection letters.
Ha ha, just like Stephen King, she’d thought, spiking the first “no” letter and flipping it the middle finger.
Then more came, and more.
“I can’t wait to talk about this emotional part of my journey when I’m being interviewed by The Guardian about my number one bestseller,” she’d told the clogged nail as she impaled another rejection letter. Yes, she’d got to the point of talking aloud to it. Like it was a person.
Now that Guardian interview seemed as likely as J K Rowling asking Bree to be her best forever friend. Her first novel had been rejected by every agent and publisher in the UK.
Then her second.
What the hell was she going to do now?
“Bree?” Her mother called up the stairs. “You’re going to be late for school.”
She stubbed the new letter onto the nail, pushing hard to make room for it.
“It’s alright. I’m almost ready,” she called back.
“Well I can’t give you a lift. I’ve got Bikram yoga this morning with the girls.”
She always did. Bree thought how ironic the usage of the word “girls” was to describe her mum and her mates.
In a rush now, she rummaged in her drawer and pulled out a pair of pink and black striped tights. She pulled them on quickly, wincing as the fabric brushed against last night’s fresh cuts on her thighs. It was the first time Bree had done it for a while. She would pay the price in pain whenever she sat down or stood up for the next two days.
Her phone went. It was a text from Holdo. No doubt double-checking they were still walking in together despite the fact they did so every day.
Sure enough:
Good morning, Bree. Shall we meet at our regular corner at the usual time? Please let me know. From, Holdo.
