Amy's in awe of: hiding a copy of Twilight under the covers
On the illicit books of childhood, loving romance, and flowers on the kitchen table
Last week, I wrote in a newsletter (for my actual job, if you can believe it) about my childhood love of One Direction, and the quiet, sad nostalgia that came with rediscovering the relics of that time when I found a forgotten box full of memorabilia in my childhood bedroom.
I said that ‘a lot of fellow former-fangirls [have been plunged] into a similar pit of reminiscence, mourning a moment that for many felt like a definitive end to the girlhood we shared. It’s all over – we’re grown-ups now. It was a strange moment for me; any time I’ve thought back to those many Facebook fan accounts I was a member of, the main emotion I’ve felt is a sort of deep, visceral embarrassment. But suddenly I felt wistful for that time, and wistful for the girl I was.’
It’s a wistfulness that came back to me while reading through Amy Mae Baxter’s reflections on her own childhood below. She talks about the first time she read Twilight aged 11, stowing an illicit copy that she hid under the covers and devoured before her Mum could notice that it wasn’t on the list of approved, and crucially non-romantic, books. I harboured the same kind of contraband, only mine was actually a library-loaned copy of Angus Thongs and Full-Frontal Snogging. I think I tried to hide it within the book jacket of a random hardback, just in case of a surprise spring clean Ah, girlhood.
Twilight sparked a love for romance that has shaped Amy’s career to this day where she commissions that very same genre at Harper Collins imprint Avon Books. A real full-circle moment, 'that the lion falling in love with the lamb changed the direction of my life so significantly.’ (Angus, Thongs etc. did not have such a profound impact on me, alas).
I first met Amy through Bad Form Review a couple of years ago, a literary magazine that she launched to give a much-needed platform to authors of colour. It was one of the first publications to pay me to write, to give me a print byline and to give me a space to yap about literature that I loved in a way that felt like I was using my English degree, in a fun way.
In my own full-circle moment, earlier this year I joined the team as a commissioning editor for the latest — and sadly last — issue of Bad Form, on the topic of love.
I like to keep this substack whimsical and wholesome where I can, so I won’t dwell too much on just how heartbreaking it was to the community Amy built to see Bad Form wrap up its regular operations — but instead on how beautiful it is that so many people were brought together over this shared passion to make a difficult industry a little bit better.
What is your favourite/most formative childhood memory?
I tried desperately to think of something that wasn’t so cliché and bookish, but the moment that keeps rising to the surface of my mind, is the first time I read Twilight. I remember exactly where I was. I was 11 and a couple of months. A friend from school lent me her copy; it was a battered paperback already, and I was in bed under the covers, scared my Mum would find me reading it instead of the already-approved non-romantic books I was meant to be reading. I know when people talk about books that change their life, they usually talk about self-help, or something super literary or meaningful. But for me, the book that changed my life was Twilight.
It was seeing love through Bella’s eyes. Seeing her feel something I couldn’t imagine feeling, being swept off your feet by this heady mix of lust and obsession and fascination. I became addicted overnight. I couldn’t get enough of romance books. It’s been 17 years, and I still can’t get enough of them! I think back on young Amy in that moment with such fondness. It feels so silly to think that the lion falling in love with the lamb changed the direction of my life so significantly.
Tell me about a moment, opportunity or everyday experience that you’ve had as an adult that made you think “wow, a younger Amy would think this was so cool”
Okay, this one I knew the answer to straightaway. I was on a panel last year, for the 15th anniversary (!) of the film Angus Thongs & Perfect Snogging to talk about the importance of that film and the book. It was a massive sold out crowd, the cast and the director were there (Gurinder also directed Bride & Prejudice, one of my favourite films of all time), and I know younger me would have thought I was the coolest person in the world. Then again, I am not married to Taylor Lautner, and I did not meet Aaron Taylor-Johnson, so maybe I would not have been that impressed with future me. A shame!
What’s one thing in your life right now that you hope an older version of yourself will look back on fondly? What do you think it’ll mean to you in 10 years?
I know I should write something important and work related and grown up, but all I can think of is the fact that I just moved in with my partner. It’s my first time living with someone, alone in a space, and it’s something very intimate and special in a way I hadn’t fully appreciated from the outside looking in. It's been very freeing, having only ever lived with family or flatmates, to exist in a space where you’re only surrounded by love and security. Not that I don’t love my family or my past flatmates, but it’s something different when it’s somebody you love romantically!
I hope the future me looks back at this with joy, and remembers the little things, like making each other breakfast, finding flowers in the vase on the kitchen table, hosting dinner parties that are mostly just made up of pasta. I hope that brings me even more joy looking back.
🧊 Amy’s finding joy in: romance novels; new notebooks and refilled pens; the smell in the flat after cleaning; a new series of the Real Housewives; touching my toes without stretching beforehand; cold water; hot mint tea; the smell of new books; Christmas lights; old baubles I remember; cancelling plans; blankets; the prospect of an uncertain future; long walks; noodles; hopefulness; my little brother; knowing my family are safe.
🧊 Sadia’s finding joy in: wandering around Oxford on a Saturday; friendsgiving; painting coffee shop interiors in watercolour; building a new timeline on Bluesky; dinner parties; reading on the tube; being earnest now and again; reece’s peanut butter cups; work events in bookshops; taper candles in tinted glass holders; being the chosen one when a stranger asks you to take a photo of them in public; paintingsoflondon; swapping in the winter wardrobe; pop-up shops for small businesses; a crisp walk along the river; watching the sunset with a cup of tea.