As any true Austen heroine knows, things can always get worse.

And as you and I know, they usually do.

You think it’s bad enough that the guy you're crushing on is a conniving, womanizing fraud? Well, watch out; he might elope with your younger sister. Remember that time you made a fool of yourself flirting with the new guy? Oh, and you also offended all of your friends at the same time? Just wait until you discover your new beau's secret: he's secretly engaged to the girl you spent all afternoon belittling.  

Recently I've discovered that this "bad to worse" phenomenon doesn't only exist in the pages of classic novels. In fact, recently I have witnessed this same pattern occurring in the lives of a few close friends.

It wasn’t bad enough that my dear roommate was coerced into salsa dancing with her scumbag of an ex-boyfriend. It wasn’t enough that another friend of mine had to endure watching the love of her life plant his lips on a flirtatious hussy.

No; as I mentioned previously, things always have a way of getting drastically worse.

Which is why I shouldn’t have been surprised when I found myself sitting in a police station at 11 pm on a school night. (The night before a major exam in my British Literary History class, to be exact.)

As we humans tend to do when we find ourselves in these situations, I tried to discern whom to blame for my current circumstances. Was it my fault that I was here? The over-vigilant police officer’s fault? My parents' fault? (After all, I would have never wanted to ride a motorcycle so badly if they hadn't always been so against them.)

It dawned on me slowly; no, I could blame this on the blog.

As Claire always said, “Anything for a good story,” right? Why else would I have pushed forward with my emblazoned efforts at boldness? Because boring people don’t make for interesting blog posts. It was the quest to appear more fearless that had gotten me into this mess in the first place.

In fact, I blame all of our recent problems on the blog.

Which, in the end, means that I really can’t blame anyone but myself. After all, the blog was my idea. A perfectly normal, harmless idea that was supposed to do nothing more than get me an A on a group project.

"It is a truth universally acknowledged…"

…That almost every woman has, at one time or another, dreamed of the day when her very own Mr. Darcy would come dashing into her life.

We, too, have held onto this dream, only to have it dashed to pieces periodically by an endless array of unsuitable gentlemen.  No, these gentlemen did not attempt to blackmail our family members or turn out to be our cousins. Rather, these men stopped responding to our texts or deleted us on Facebook.

Unfortunately, we find ourselves in a very Anti-Austen world and we are here to proclaim the dismal fact: that our lives are not a Jane Austen novel.

Who are we?

We are the Anti-Austens.

It seems like the Regency era was one endless round of introductions. "Ms. Bennet, let me introduce you to Mr. Bingley. Ms. Dashwood, let me introduce you to Colonel Brandon. Ms. Emmeline Hirst, let me introduce you to your very own Captain Wentworth." (Ah, I wish!)

Oh, in case you were confused, you haven’t forgotten about an Austen heroine. I’m Emmeline. And despite the fact that I am living and breathing in the 21st century, my heart is quite solidly grounded in the 19th.

After all, what’s not to love about Jane Austen’s world?

Okay, yes. There was typhoid fever and bloodletting and an extreme absence of tampons. But minus those few minor details, I love everything about the Regency era.

Think of it: for fun, everyone attended balls! No man would have dreamed of taking a lady to the movies, nor did they entertain the idea that playing Halo for a date would ever be deemed acceptable. Men and women were trained in the art of social graces. A gentleman would not dream of remaining seated when a fresh-faced young lady entered the room. These days, it’s rare to find a man who remembers to open my car door.

As much as I long for those days, the hard truth of the matter is that I fear I would fail miserably at such a lifestyle. I'm terrible at introductions and meeting people. I think any friend I've ever had approached me first. And now, it was my love of Jane Austen that had catapulted me into one of those dreaded introductory situations. I found myself sitting in the passenger seat of my roommate Alex's car because I had coerced her into helping me as part of a group English project. I would soon be introducing her to a couple of fellow Austen-lovers and hoping that she didn’t say anything too offensive about the world I loved.

I tried not to be anxious. In hindsight, this had seemed like a great idea. After all, our project would be focused on relationships and dating, and I knew Alex had plenty to say on the matter.  Now, however, I was worried what might happen when she collided with my English major world. Alex was my best friend, but our tastes were significantly different. When I was listening to classical music in high school and learning concertos on the clarinet, she was rocking out to Linkin Park and Blink 182 and staying out past her curfew. I wasn't even sure if she knew the plotline of Pride and Prejudice. Well, no matter what happened, I'd gotten her this far. It was too late to back out.

Hello daters and doubters of Provo! Welcome to our small spot here on the internet. I doubt that you can envision the ecstasy with which I am writing our first post. This blog fulfills many a waking dream that I've had. The freedom to write anything I choose about anyone I fancy without a soul knowing who I am is exhilarating, to say the least. It makes me feel like "a girl again, half-savage and hardy, and free." (If you can name the quote, which is taken from Wuthering Heights, then know that you are exactly the sort of person we hope to attract to this blog.)

This lovely blog began with a class. Well, I suppose it actually started with Ms. Austen. Without her wit and sharp-tongued heroines, the English department would never have held a special "Novels of Jane Austen" elective course. And without that inspired class, the four of us would have never met. This blog would have never been born.

So, I suppose we have two people we must thank:

1.        Jane Austen herself, of course
2.        Mrs. Madeline Easter, the professor of ENG 305R: The Novels of Jane Austen elective course.  (I knew it would be a fabulous class when she showed up to the first day in PERIOD COSTUME.)

We were meeting my two classmates at The Chocolate, a dessert café that the four of us all happened to love. Well, if nothing else, at least Alex would have that in common with the rest of us. I had recently met Claire and Regina in an elective English course studying the works of Jane Austen. (And yes, in case you were wondering, the class is just as amazing as it sounds.) Regina was a fellow English major like myself and although her friend Claire claimed to be studying psychology, it seemed like she really just spent most of her time studying boys. As much as I had come to love these two girls, I couldn't deny the fact that they were drastically different from Alex. And without me telling her, I think Alex had guessed it, too.

Before too long we had arrived at the restaurant, and Alex gave me a look that clearly said I can't believe you talked me into this. I smiled reassuringly and got out of the car. I could see Claire and Regina already sitting at a table inside. Claire looked out the window, caught a glimpse of us, and waved excitedly. I felt Alex stiffen next to me.

"It's going to be fine," I whispered and waved back.

She raised a skeptical eyebrow at me before squaring her shoulders and pushing open the door.

When this class showed up as an option, I knew there was nothing on earth besides a terminal illness that would cause me to miss the opportunity. I had to do some extreme schedule shifting but in the end happily added it to my roster. The class has been delightful, primarily because I had the good fortune of sitting next to and befriending two bright-eyed young ladies in the class. These two have now become good friends of mine and are fellow writers here on this blog. When a group project was announced a few weeks into the semester, there was no discussion needed; we knew we would be working together.

The more difficult part of the project was deciding what exactly we should do. The assignment was a bit vague, as our instructions were merely to find a way to analyze the cultural relevance of Jane Austen's novels in modern society. We had lots of ideas: one of us fancied making a music video parody of "Call Me Maybe" entitled "Post Me A Letter Maybe” or holding a ball as a ward activity. However, I was more interested in a less showy project. After much deliberation, I proposed the idea of a blog.

It turns out that my hastily-whispered prayers as we entered the restaurant were unnecessary. Claire wasn't too ditzy, Alex wasn't too angsty, and Regina refrained from cracking any literature jokes. Things turned out fine. After only a few minutes of awkward small talk, they had already moved beyond the surface level "what's your major" and "where are you from" nonsense. Finally, after one too many mouthfuls of ice cream and chocolate Regina brought up the reason why we'd come together in the first place: Jane Austen. Or more, importantly, our upcoming blog.

"So, Emmeline told us that you would have some great ideas to contribute to the blog," Regina said, smiling at Alex.

Alex looked at me briefly before responding. "Well, I don't know about that. To be honest, I'm not sure what I’d write about. If you want me to write about dating or love or something, I'm afraid any posts I write might just be rants about how annoying and obnoxious men can be."

"Hey, that's perfect!" Claire chimed in. "I could probably write a few of those myself."

"Are you guys sure you actually want me to get in on this? I don't want to ruin your group project."

Claire quickly spoke up. "No, you'll be perfect! You can’t ruin the project. I promise.”

"So, what exactly is the topic of this blog again?" Alex asked. “Emmeline just mentioned something about discussing dating.”

"Well, that's the thing. We're supposed to find a way to discuss Jane Austen's novels and how they are culturally relevant in today's society,” Regina explained.

"Relevant? Seriously?” Alex raised a skeptical eyebrow. “From what I can tell, they're not relevant at all. Women in that time spent their whole time sitting around and discussing which of their suitors had the most money and how they planned to win over his heart. I've seen a few episodes of Downton Abbey. I know how it works.”

"You watch Downton? Ooh, us too!” Claire piped up.

"Okay, Claire, focus. Yes, I get what you're saying, Alex, but isn't that what girls do now? Plus, they not only discuss which man they want to marry but also plan their weddings via Pinterest," Regina pointed out.

"Guilty," Claire admitted.

"Yeah, I guess, but it seems to me like these women were totally focused on getting a husband. It was the sole reason for their existence. You learned how to play the piano so you could impress the men. You learned how to embroider so you could make a wedding quilt." Alex looked at me apologetically. "I know I’m tearing down the world you love so much, and I'm sorry, but can't you see that their lifestyles were somewhat ridiculous?"

"So maybe we should focus on the fact that our lives can't be Jane Austen novels, even if we want them to be…or don't want them to, in your case,” I mused.

"'It is a truth universally acknowledged that a modern woman's love life will never come close to a Jane Austen novel,'" Regina quipped.

"I love it!" I said. "We should write this down."

Alex whipped out a notebook and pencil. Thank goodness she was always prepared.

"How about, 'My life is NOT a Jane Austen novel'?" I suggested.

"I like it," Alex said. "Maybe a blog that focuses on why Austen's stories wouldn't work today."

"Or a blog that focuses on why we wish they would work today but why men like Mr. Darcy don't exist anymore," I added.

"I think either of those would be fine, as long as the general gist is the admission that our lives don't reflect her writings."

We murmured our assent as Alex jotted down some notes. "Okay, what is the structure of the blog going to be? Are we comparing Jane Austen’s novels with our lives, giving old-fashioned dating advice, telling dating stories, or what?"

“There is such thing as a modern gentleman,” Regina told her. “They don’t have to be old-fashioned to be polite.”

Alex looked at her skeptically.

Claire grinned at Alex. “I was kind of thinking that I’d give dating advice, or talk about how to win over boys. And of course I’ll share stories from my wild love life.”

“Your wild love life?”

Her grin widened. “Oh, you have no idea.”

Alex looked at her. “You go to BYU. How wild are we talking?”

“Well, she probably averages three dates a week. I’m surprised if she doesn’t come home at least twice a week with stories about getting hit on in the Cougareat,” Regina told us, rolling her eyes.

“You poor thing,” Alex said.

Not sure whether Alex was being sympathetic or sarcastic, I re-entered the conversation. “I think we can write about whatever we want. Dating stories are great, dating advice could be interesting. I think as long as we try to tie it back into Austen, we can’t really go wrong here.”

Alex jotted down some notes briefly and nodded. “Have you girls thought of a name for the blog?”

The three of us looked at each other. “We were getting there,” I said.

"What about 'Lost in Austen'?" Claire suggested.

"Sorry, that is already the name of an excellent miniseries," Regina pointed out. "Look it up on YouTube."

"What about….'In Pursuit of Darcy'?" I suggested.

"Yes, that's clever," said Regina, "although personally I would pursue Knightley."

"Do you have any ideas, Alex?" Claire asked.

Alex laughed curtly. "I'm sorry, I told you I'd be useless at this. I've never read a novel by Jane Austen, and I've never even seen any of the movies. I know the name ‘Mr. Darcy’ but that's probably because Emmeline has his name embroidered on half the stuff she owns."

"Hey," I said playfully shoving her.

"The truth is, I'm probably about the most Anti-Austen that you can get. I find all that stuff a bit archaic."

"Say that again?" Claire said breathlessly.

Alex stared at her. "Umm, I find all that stuff archaic?"

"No, the other part!" Regina joined in.

"I'm the most Anti-Austen that you can-"

"Yes!" Regina and Claire shouted gleefully.

"That's it!" I added excitedly. "The Anti-Austen! It has such a great ring to it, don't you think?"

"Really?" Alex asked, wrinkling her nose. "I didn't think that's what you were going for."

"No, it's perfect! I mean we're planning to write about how our lives are hardly worthy of an Austen novel. Sometimes it's almost painful to read them because we know those types of men don't exist.   We're not necessarily opposed to Austen…but…I think it's an interesting concept, to be an anti-Austen."

"Okay, well…the Anti-Austen it is, then," Alex said, writing it down. "Are we all in agreement?" 

"Wow, so official," Regina teased. "But yes, I'm in."

"Me too!"

I nodded. "Do you like it, Alex?"

"It doesn't really matter what I think. It's your project."

"But you're part of the team now! You're a fellow Anti-Austen."

Alex smiled. "You mean I was the original Anti-Austen. And yes, I think it's a great name."

I was already beginning to envision the blog’s homepage in my mind. “THE ANTI-AUSTEN: My life is NOT a Jane Austen novel” it would proclaim in big, scripted letters.

I didn’t get much time to mull over possible blog designs before Alex interrupted.

"Okay, so the blog has a name…what about the rest of us? What if we make it a secret blog? After all, there's no way I’m writing about my dating life and signing my own name to it.”

“Amen,” Claire loudly agreed.

"Hmm…what if we each choose one of Jane's characters to be our pen names?" I suggested.

There was a murmur of assent as the other girls thought about this.

Regina continued my train of thought. "Yeah, that's a good idea! Like…maybe I could write as Emma, one of us could be Lizzy Bennet, Fanny Price…."

"Okay, there is NO way I'm writing as someone named Fanny," Alex interjected.

"Well you don’t have to be Fanny,” Claire piped in. “You could be one of the many Marys.” She looked at me closely. “Hmm…you're too nice to be Emma…she's sort of inherently selfish. I’m thinking you’re more of an Elinor Dashwood. I’m probably the most Emma-esque in the group.”

"You, my dear, are 100% Lydia Bennet," Regina told her.

Claire made a face. "Oh please. I am not. Marianne Dashwood maybe, but not Lydia."

"As much as I disagree with Claire's analysis of her personality," Regina began, causing Claire to roll her eyes, "let's face it….none of us is ever going to be cool enough to claim Elizabeth Bennett. She's basically the most attractive female character in all of English literature ever."

"Yeah, I don't think that'll work, "I reluctantly agreed. "I mean, isn't the point that our lives are NOT Jane Austen masterpieces? If we take on the names of her characters, it's almost like we're trying to turn our lives into her novels. I like the idea of incorporating the things she wrote, but I don't think we should name ourselves after her books."

It was silent as all thought again for a moment. Inwardly, I sighed. Was our blog really doomed from the beginning? If we couldn't even think of what to call ourselves…

"Wait, I've got it." Regina finally said. "No really, this is perfect. What if we name ourselves after regency era ideals? You know, like our names are based on desirable attributes from the time period! Like…let's take Claire, for instance. Basically all she's going to write about is how many guys are currently falling apart over her. She's witty. She's charming. All the boys love her. In today's world, we would call her 'The Heartbreaker.' But Jane Austen would refer to her as something a little, you know, classier. Something like 'The Charmer'!"

Claire's face burst into a grin. "The Charmer….hey, I actually kind of like that."

Regina continued, excited. "And…and Emmeline, come on, you have the most romantic ideals of anyone I've ever met. You totally want the perfect fairytale romance. You're the Romantic!"

The Romantic. I couldn’t argue with that. She’d pinned me perfectly. 

"And what about you?" Alex asked, directing her question towards Regina. "What characteristic do you claim?"

"Hmm, that's a good question. What do you think, Claire?"

Claire thought for a moment before smiling mischievously.  "How about 'The Virgin'? Her lips still await the kiss of a man."

Regina blushed. "Oh come on, Claire, can't you let me have any secrets?"

I could tell that Alex was trying not to laugh. I cut in to ease the awkwardness.

"When I think of you, I think of how you are kind of...mysterious. No, not mysterious, that's the wrong word. It's just not obvious right away who you really are. You're funny and quirky but you would never guess from looking at you. You always seem so proper."

"Yes, she is a proper little lady with the men," Claire teased, continuing her earlier jest.

"The Lady!" I said excitedly. "You should be 'The Lady'. The name leaves much to the imagination, but gives the outward appearance that you're exactly what any man would want. Not that you aren't, of course," I quickly added.

"Hmm…The Lady. I like it. Actually, yeah. I do. I like it. It's kind of deceptive. It's perfect!"

The three of us with our Austen-inspired pennames all turned to look at Alex. She, of course, would be the most difficult to name.

"Hey, this is all you guys. I wouldn't even know where to start."

"Hmm. I guess you probably don't want to be known as 'The Man-hater,' right?" Claire grinned.

"Preferably not."

She looked at me, but I wasn't coming up with anything solid. "Hmm…I would say you could be 'The Philanthropist' because you love service, but I'm not sure that name will be consistent with the types of posts you write."

"What, you don't expect a lot of love from me?" she joked. "No, you're probably right; I like to say it like it is."

Claire threw out a few more ridiculous name ideas, including the "Deceptive Seductress." I racked my brain. There had to be something better than that. Alex suggested she could just call herself “Anonymous.”

"Wait," I finally said. "I've got it."

"Have you ever heard of the Blue Stocking Society?"

 Regina said it sounded vaguely familiar, but the other two just stared at me.

"They were a literary society that existed in England in the 1700s. It was headed by a woman named Elizabeth Montagu, who was just fantastic and way ahead of her time, especially considering that she was a woman. Anyways, she started this literary group called ‘The Bluestocking Society’ that was mostly made up of cultured and intelligent women. After that, the term 'bluestocking' took on a meaning of its own. It refers to an educated woman…one that maybe has a little hint of feminism."

They were still looking at me. I cleared my throat a little bit, realizing what had sounded brilliant in my head probably just came out sounding as ridiculous as the "Deceptive Seductress." "So, Alex, what if we call you ‘The Bluestocking’?"

As soon as I said it, I knew she would hate it. I could see her making that face she always did when she was trying to explain to a guy that she was not interested now and never would be.

"The Bluestocking, huh? It kind of sounds like a bad hotel, I'm not going to lie."

We waited while she digested it. Finally, her face broke into a cautious smile. "Okay. I can deal with that. 'The Bluestocking.'  It's kinda weird….but I kind of like it. It's different. The Bluestocking it is," she said, writing it down. "Well, it looks like we've got it all figured out! This is what I have written down.  Here we are, the Anti-Austens. The Romantic, The Lady, The Bluestocking, and The Charmer. Young ladies who are feisty, enchanting, yet classy. We take on the dating world of BYU by storm and share our exploits on this blog. Oh, and our lives are definitely NOT a Jane Austen novel."

We grinned at each other around the table. I could almost feel the excitement. This was no longer just a group project that we would hastily slap together and forget about as soon as next semester dawned; this was something much more.

Alex looked at me. “Well, Em, I think it’s time you got started on our first post.”

As they say, the rest is history. Here we are, ready to allow you the coveted"fly on the wall" position on all of our dates. Yes, we believe in love. Yes, we believe in romance. But we also must face the awful reality that the days of parlor chats and gentlemen callers have been replaced by Tinder and post-date texts.

So, if you, too, have often found yourself longing for a day spent embroidering and playing croquet while gossiping about the physique and intellect of the new bachelor in town, welcome home.

Until next time,
The Romantic

What, pray tell, is an "Anti-Austen"?  She is a feisty young woman, endowed with old-fashioned sensibilities, trudging her way through the modern dating scene.

Three of the four Anti-Austens are guilty of periodically perusing the pages of "Jane Eyre" and "Emma" and watching "Downton Abbey" and "North and South" while simultaneously longing for the etiquette, sensibilities, and lifestyles of these bygone eras.

The Romantic is guilty of reading Wuthering Heights five times, yet has never seen an episode of Friends. Not only does she long for a whirlwind romance full of restrained passion and morning strolls across the moors, she is also of the opinion that this type of romance is completely possible even in the 21st century. Will she discover a gentleman who shares her affinity for scones and progressive literature? Or will she be doomed to throw away her ideals for a Twittering, skinny-jean wearing millenial?

The Lady laments the fact that her real-life romances seem to lack the excitement and wit of those she reads about in Shakespeare or Ann Radcliffe's great masterpieces. Having reluctantly accepted the fact that her life will never mirror that of an 18th-century romance novel, she continues her search for love and a man who will respect both her old-fashioned ideals and her eccentricities. Truly, in the end, she just longs to love and be loved; she does not require a Darcy, but notes that she would quite happily settle with a Bingley.

Although The Charmer longs for the country balls and afternoon carriage rides of Austen's world, she has embraced the fact that no man today will ever measure up to those of literary acclaim. Instead, she has focused her attention on studying the male psyche so that she might have the pleasure of wooing any man she pleases. In fact, it seems there are few men who are able to resist her sidelong glances and witty personality. However, in her heart of hearts, the Charmer wonders if she will ever uncover her very own Prince Charming in the midst of so many other suitors.

The Bluestocking does not share her fellow Austens' affinity for suffocating corsets and musty estates. She is happy to have moved beyond an era in which women were solely focused on primping and putting on a show. However, is it possible to be happy in a world that lacks a spark of romance? Will the Bluestocking realize one day that a Mr. Darcy or a Colonel Brandon is exactly what has been missing from her life?

While we can’t promise that our stories on this blog will include weekly doses of daring escapades or newly-discovered Darcies, we can promise that the stories will be both real and entertaining. As your newly-found bosom sisters, we vow to hold nothing back.

Welcome to the Anti-Austen.

Emmeline: Ladies, hope you don't mind that I made an Anti-Austen group text. Anyway, I have big news... I just sent you the link to our NEW BLOG! I put up a couple posts already!
Claire: Ahhhhh! Let's get milkshakes to celebrate!
Regina: I'm always in the mood for milkshakes.
Claire: Alex, R? You two in?
Alex: Didn’t we just get dessert like…2 days ago?
Regina: I’m on a steady diet of chocolate every day.
Claire: Oh come on! It will be fun!
Alex: Well….
Regina: Rita’s at 7?
Alex: I don’t know…
Claire: Are you Anti-happiness also?
Emmeline: We'll be there. See you then!