'I feel pretty, oh, so pretty, I feel pretty and witty and bright! And I pity any girl who isn't me tonight.'

And so, you've created a twenty-seven year-old woman as the idealised version of your-twenty-seven-year-old-self and then given her a quirk, such as cooing at babies in supermarkets (but only supermarkets, for anywhere else is creepy), and a physical flaw, such as frizzy hair on especially hot days. Then you've created your ideal man from a possibly embarrassing photograph of Hugh Jackman and loaded him with the kinds of characteristics and physical traits all women agree upon as desirable in a man. Once you have your heroine and hero the next step for your Mills & Boon romance is the story and location. Location is important. The romance genre has a history of exotic and glamorous settings, the sorts of places where running into an enigmatic, ruthless and handsome sheik is a plausible occurrence. After all, the perfect man is a well-hidden breed, and rightfully so. We can't have the manifestation of the perfect partner swanning around urban shopping malls. He must be chopping wood in isolated snow-covered landscapes or flying overhead in a helicopter building a multi-million pound empire to use to lovingly force a woman into his marriage bed.

Fortunately for those undecided on such issues as location Julie Elizabeth Leto is here to help. You may remember her from The Domino Effect, that terrible book Bewildered Heart read and hated. Well, as with so many authors of terrible books we have read and hated, she posts essays on her website explaining how to write terrible books we will someday read and hate. There are many essays, but for now let us concern ourselves with  Where Am I? The Importance of Setting to Your Romance Novel. 'A lush tropical island. A dark, candlelit restaurant by the ocean. A remote cabin in the foggy mountain tops. With little imagination, romantic fantasies bubble out of settings such as these. What better place could possibly exist to set your romance novel? Plenty of better places - trust me. Those listed above are easy and no one ever said that writing well was easy.'

If you're not going to say it, someone should. Writing romance isn't the same as writing well. However, an early point to Julie Leto, as most of her examples are tired and formulaic. Still, a remote, foggy candlelit restaurant on a tropical island sounds delightful, although the service would be poor and the menu mostly fish and coconut. 'Your job as a writer is to create settings that will not depend entirely on images and emotional responses the reader already possesses, but those that will take her literally to a whole new world.' Well, not literally. 'Do I mean science fiction? Not necessarily.' It's not necessarily sci-fi. It's not sci-fi at all. You're misusing the word literally. Stop that.

Leto's reference point is Make That Scene: A Writer’s Guide to Setting, Mood and Atmosphere by William Noble, and according to Noble setting is vital for three reasons, 1, it adds vividness to the story, 2, it influences the characters and 3, it plays a vital role in the story. Now, while this may sound like the nonsensical throwing around of technical words for the benefit of no one, there is something worthwhile to be gleamed for this and that is, location is vital. Without it your characters would wander a desolate world of existential blankness with no dimensions or gravity. Except that itself would be a location. In fact, it is the location of the Tron movies. Leto goes on, 'If a setting you’ve chosen doesn’t interlock this tightly with the story you’re about to tell - if it’s just a backdrop as changeable as stage scenery - you may not have chosen the right place for your story to occur.' We appear to be hammering on about the importance of setting, but it's worth remembering. Setting a tender love story in a futuristic world of bareknuckle-boxing on an oil rig made from cardboard would be stupid. Although tender love can blossom anywhere, so let's not rule out inspired bursts of originality, eh, article?

'West Side Story is essentially Romeo and Juliet set in a different time and place. Fourteenth century Verona becomes 1960s New York City. The circumstances and plot remain the same, but the audience doesn’t seem to mind. The changed setting meant changed characters, and together they flushed out fresh elements to the basic plot of forbidden, star-crossed love.' West Side Story is one of the most romantic American movies ever, according to our friends at the AFI, so good example, Julie. West Side Story is a silly film, where the forbidden element of the love isn't credible or particularly well-thought out. Then again, the silliness might have had more to do with the constant singing, homo-erotic dancing and egotistic vanity.

'Contrary to popular myth, Poe was not a drugged-out weirdo who wrote gross stories about blood and gore. On the contrary, he was a master craftsman whose attention to detail in his tightly woven narratives contradicts any possibility of a steady use of hallucinogens.' At this point it is easy to become concerned for Julie Leto's grasp on reality. But thank God she's here to defend Edgar Allen Poe from the vast majority of literary experts who revile him as nothing more than an old-timey version of Eli Roth. With Poe's reputation restored, let's see what the drugged-out weirdo had to say. 'In the whole composition there should be no word written, of which the tendency, direct or indirect, is not to the one pre-established design. And by such means, with such care and skill, a picture is at length painted which leaves in the mind of him who contemplates it with a kindred art, a sense of the fullest satisfaction…' Let us hope Leto didn't take Poe's review of Hawthorne as a personal attack on her own novels, but we can surely sleep peacefully under the notion that she doesn't consider herself a skilled literary artist.

'In our novels, the preconceived or single effect is romance, coupled with the overall mood of the book (i.e., suspense, a historic richness, or humor). Genre and sub-genre - your targeted market - must be taken into consideration when you plan your overall effect.' We appear to have narrowed our choice down to either Modern, or Romance. The single effect, therefore, is romance, with the mood being romantic. Romance plus romance equals double romance, thus Romantic Romance, our preferred sub-genre. Thus the setting must be evocative of romance, the sort of place people go to fall in love, which also has the effect of helping people fall in love. Suitable locations would include a lush tropical island, a dark, candlelit restaurant by the ocean or a remote cabin in foggy mountain tops.

'Should the setting enhance the single effect, or contrast it?' It turns out that there are unlimited choices open to an author when choosing location. Perhaps a contrasting background would work more strongly, for example somewhere that does not instantly produce love make might the impending love even more powerful, through contrast. How about finding love in the most unlikely location? But surely, you cry, a remote cabin in foggy mountain tops is unlikely. What kind of single man will hang out there with anything other than murder on his mind? You're right, and possibly a little paranoid. In The Domino Effect, our spy heroine was thrust into the surprisingly easy-going locale of a Chicago nightclub, with all the mystery, sexiness and poor lighting one would expect from such a place. Clearly Leto wanted to enhance the effect. Had she contrasted it, her tough-talking, hard-living, sexy spy might have had to seek out traitors at a nursery school, or a petting zoo. Quickly, Google, write that idea down.

Leto moves onto how to set a scene, saying, somewhat curiously, that a writer must use words to describe things. 'To most of us, there is only one way to establish setting - through description by the author.' Most of us, Julie? We can assume the rest are illiterate, or screenwriters. If the writer has decided against inference through story and dialogue, instead insisting on straight description, we return to William Noble, who has another list of three things. 1, Colours, 2, Shapes and 3, Textures. Well, that is hard to argue with. Noble asks us to, 'Imagine ourselves in the scene: it is we who do the looking and the absorbing, and we know what will strike us most forcefully. We seek ‘key details’ with this method, ever mindful that use of detail can overrun us if we aren’t careful.' Indeed. Readers don't read Mills & Boon for the fancy language and poetic insights. If they want good writing there's a much smaller shelf a few rows down. We're here to serve them with a straight-forward story of romance with lashings of romance against a backdrop of romanticism. What does it matter if we don't know any appropriate words besides romantic?

“Maybe you're only alloted a certain amount of tears per man and I've used mine up”

Anyone who enjoys cinema and female companionship will be disappointed to learn that the column Girls on Film is merely a bunch of essays by women on the topic of movies. False advertising on the internet, who knew that occurred? Well, you won't find any of that on Bewildered Heart, where we're true to our original goal, posting photographs of Hugh Jackman in embarrassing poses. No one is tricked onto this blog, no one is invited either, it seems. The point is, please click on the adverts.

Girls on Film is one of the more vocal exponents on the decline of romantic comedies, a subject Bewildered Heart is also dedicated to uncovering. From the AFI list of the hundred greatest romantic films, only a handful are comedies, and the finest of those include The Princess Bride, The Goodbye Girl, Harold and Maude, The Lady Eve and Casablanca. Of those there aren't many traditional romcoms, as we've grown to expect them. Possibly the reason for this is that the AFI is solely interested in great movies, and The Way We Were, whereas we have grown to expect romantic comedies to be as terrible as The Way We Were. After all, when Ernst Lubitsch died William Wyler sensed the end was near, and Hollywood never replaced the likes of he or Preston Sturges. Girls on Film have decided that this issue is worth filling their essay quota on, and so over at their Moviefone website you can read what's wrong with Hollywood and more importantly what's wrong with you, the audience, who lap this toilet water up. Monika Bartyzel makes numerous mentions to The Bechdel Rule, an idea taken from a twenty-something year old comic strip where a character asserts she will only see a film if it adheres to three strict rules. 'One, there are two women who Two, talk to each other about Three, something other than men.'

Because of this rule, the strip argues, the only film that woman has seen is Alien, where two lady characters speak of the phallic metaphor chasing them down narrow corridors. Now, perhaps it is misguided to blame Hollywood for seeing females as a niche audience with limited interests, as critics contend. Women make up the majority of the population, but not the cinema-going public. Is this because there are no films that specifically appeal to women? After all, Sex and the City and its sequel made hundreds of millions of dollars. Sex and the City has become a hugely successful franchise, with a television series, two films, a line of cocktails and it is likely they have a cut of the shoe market, to boot. What's curious about its success, however, is that the films are horrible, insensitive, awful and sexist. Female audiences forgive this, mind, either because they're so starved for representation they'll take what they can get, or women are stupid and have no self-respect or taste, something they probably learned from Sex and the City.

Now, it is perhaps worth bearing in mind that while women are stupid, the wider point is that people are stupid and women are people. Furthermore, many of these same women are aware that Sex and the City 2 is an abysmal, xenophobic and oddly misogynistic movie, but they enjoyed it anyhow. So Girls on Film, what the hell? 'While I can't fathom forgiving all of the flaws of SatC on the big screen, forgiveness is an essential part of the experience for any moviegoer eager to see real-life women. There are, quite simply, too few films that are interested in reaching beyond the typical stereotypes.' Huh. Women call it SatC. Interesting. 'Studios don't see this success as an example of moviegoers wanting more diverse and awesome women on the big screen, or more women in general. They see it as a simple equation: Romance + sexy women + comedy = Goldmine. Female friends + fashion + money = Goldmine. Women obsessed with men = Goldmine.' She misused the word awesome, but for discerning film-goers desperate for the beauty to be put back into romcoms it makes for a worrying trend. Unless the studios are onto something, which they are, because that equation makes a lot of sense. If we continue down this decline then eventually romantic comedies will be in as bad shape as most other Hollywood genres. Skyline was a rubbish sci-fi alien invasion film and made no money. If the next rubbish alien invasion film also makes no money will Hollywood listen and go back to the safe-haven of remaking classic alien invasion films?

Moviefone points its angry finger at SatC, SatC2, Mamma Mia and Valentine's Day as a sign of this threat to quality. These films are critically-ravaged, yet each made a lot of money. Is this because women lack representation on screen but forgive the movie's faults because it has been made with them in mind? Do they blindly support 'female' films even when they're insulting to women? This is a flawed argument, of course, because Sex and the City had a loyal built-in fanbase, Mamma Mia had previously been a huge success on stage and Valentine's Day had a lucrative history as a day long before it cashed in as a film. It is akin to arguing that just because Spiderman 3 made a fortune at the box office teenage boys will pay for abysmal superhero films just to see Spiderman at the cinema. Well, everyone rightly hated Spiderman 3 and despite its profits Hollywood listened, going to great lengths to trick the audience into watching another one. Surely nobody wants to make atrocious films. None of the people involved in Valentine's Day intended it to be that bad. Yes, the female characters are made up of, 'the sweet-as-pie grade school teacher, the airhead blonde high schooler, the perpetually single girl who wallows in candy and panic attacks, the rich wife who tries to ignore her husband's infidelity,' but the men didn't come off any better. There was a professional football player who turns out to be gay, a smarmy doctor cheating on his wife and an Ashton Kutcher. It isn't a matter of Hollywood folk lazily trading on stereotypes, but just a bunch of hacks doing the best they could.

The New York Times film critic Manohla Dargis says different. Asked why romantic comedies are in such straits, she helpfully pointed out that, 'One, the people making them have no fucking taste, two, they're morons, three, they're insulting panderers who think they're making movies for the great unwashed and that's what they want.' Clearly this can't be correct because that would mean a Hollywood producer would have to be an insultingly pandering moron with no taste and an arrogant, superior attitude to the public. Maybe Dargis means filmmakers can be one of the three options. Choose carefully, Hollywood.

'So where's the line between fighting for diverse representations, feeling anger over stereotypical crap, rebelling against bubbleheaded fluffdom, and being a supporter of female achievement?' asks Monika Bartyzel. 'That's not something I can quite figure out yet.' Well, Monika, you're lucky there's a big strong man around to help you answer that. After this Bewildered Heart will take care of that spider. Dargis makes an obvious point when she refuses to judge female-directed films differently from male-directed ones, even though it begs the question as to what difference it makes to have a female director. A female writer and director with a female cast telling stories about women for female audiences seems to compartmentalise women as not only niche audiences, but niche filmmakers too. Why would you celebrate a film being made, or being seen by a lot of people just because it was made by women? It's a shallow victory that limits the threshold of potential achievement. Don't check the credits to see who wrote and directed the film, just rebel against stereotypes and bubbleheaded fluffdom as much as others will rebel against journalists making up words.

“Her tongue thickened. Here it came. She tried to prepare herself. 'Oh?'”

When we left The Dad Next Door he was beginning to fall in love with our protagonist, Alison, but remained concerned how this new relationship would effect his daughter, Tory. Alison, meanwhile, was beginning to fall in love with the single father neighbour, Gavin, but was concerned he was obsessively stalking Tory's mother, Marianne. Tory, on the other hand, was still coming to terms with the death of her sister, Samantha, in a motorcycle accident (Sam was hit by a motorcycle), and the move to Squam Lake, but at least now has Alison, her adoring new mother figure and a general disinterest towards the feelings of others, because she's a child.

The easily resolved issues don't stop there, however. First there is Alison's divorced father, named something fatherly yet distant, such as Frank (it's actually Seth, how inappropriate), and then there's Marianne, a bohemian version of Megan Fox, with black hair, pale skin and facial features so chiselled a man could cut a finger on them. Marianne is an artist and Tory's estranged mother, disappeared for years. A bad woman, a bad mother, a lousy girlfriend and, though the author doesn't acknowledge it directly, an inept painter of moody, esoteric pictures with little commercial value. Alison is the Julie Bowen alternative to Megan Fox, all smooth lines, safe for children, warm autumnal colours and blonde hair. Her shop, The Perfect Thing, is a tourist trap of popular nic-nacs obtuse visitors and locals immediately adore.

All this homely pleasantness and reasonable reactions to everyday occurrences is soon shattered by the return of Marianne, with a secret so dark and unlikely no one may ever be the same again, except Tory who glides through life with a childlike apathy towards the feelings of others. The use of 'may ever be the same' is apt, because Marianne's secret doesn't change much irrevocably, it merely serves to extend the story for a further one hundred or so pages. Marianne's secret is nothing compared to Seth's secret. That's a secret that should shatter everyone's lives, but somehow doesn't, resulting in something eerily close to incest. Yep, The Dad Next Door is the first Mills & Boon to contain 'sorta incest'. Add that to the list, Google.

Our delightful heroine, Alison, is a modern woman of standard neuroses. Her recent broken engagement to Tyler isn't important in the grand scheme of things. Her future is fixed from the moment Gavin and Tory move in next door and the adult problems soon to plague her quiet house of middle class domesticity only serve to regress her back to childhood and the same selfish outlook that bonds her so quickly to Tory. She grew up with Marianne and everything was a competition. Every boy Alison liked was stolen by Marianne and Seth always took Marianne's side. Some father, the reader thinks, unaware how right they are. With her feelings for Gavin growing the arrival of Marianne threatens to upset their newfound love, especially as it takes place shortly after The Dad Next Door's only sex scene, on a sofa and involving metaphorical melting.

Despite this, CJ Carmichael has no intention of figuring anything out, instead using Marianne as an unrealistic plot point. Her sudden reappearance reveals the devastating secret no one wants to hear. Oh, please allow this weblog to reveal the secret, because our Bewildered Heart cannot contain itself any longer! Seth had an affair with Marianne's drunken whore of a mother and is, in fact, Marianne's father. Holy cow, yes! Alison and Marianne are half-sisters and always have been. Not only that, but Alison slept with her niece's father. Phew! You have no idea how long we've been wanting to tell you that, indulgent reader. Can you believe it? Alison Bennett always seemed like such a nice, simple woman of autumnal colours and Julie Bowen congeniality. It must be that child that looks eerily like how Megan Fox presumably looks. Everybody knows what bad influences the child-incarnations of Transformers stars are.

You're gosh darn right, non-existent alcoholic Squam Lake busy-body. How will this mess of crap be sorted in the remaining ten or so pages? Really, there are only ten pages left? What, is Carmichael just going to call a taxi for Marianne, remove her from the picture and then have the characters never again mention this sordid chapter of their lives, much to the dismay and annoyance of the reader, who had patiently concentrated on her words for two hundred and eighty pages awaiting something dramatic to take place? Nah, of course not. That would be rubbish and deeply infuriating.

The Dad Next Door positions itself as a Tender Romance and the sexual element, while present, is subtlety excised, the editor moving on as the couple move into the bedroom, leaving the awkwardly timid descriptions of penetration, thrusting and orgasm (we all know it happens) on the floor of the writer's equivalent of the cutting room. Clipboard? Unlike Modern and Blaze! there includes a noticeable plot centred around a compelling protagonist. There is a child old enough to speak and influence the narrative and Carmichael cleverly uses Tory to push Alison and Gavin together, their intimacy brought about by a resolutely pampered kid. This is no different from other romance stories that use a gimmick to hurry along the romance, but a child brings a heightened emotional significance to any potential coupling. This relationship has more riding on it than a wasted month of crying, eating ice cream and watching reruns of Murder, She Wrote.

Furthermore, there is the introduction of Marianne, a villain. A woman whose selfish apathy towards the feelings of others isn't as adorable or as tolerated as Tory's. Marianne is a cold, conniving artist-type who never wanted children and was forced to give birth to twins when she would have preferred an abortion. In another writer's hands Marianne could have been portrayed as human, weak and confused, a victim of circumstance, poverty and poor parenting, while also suffering from a proper illness that is wrecking her life and destroying any chance she has of making contact with her only daughter. However, Carmichael takes a different route. Marianne is a manipulative bitch with a made-up disease who stands between Alison and her man, undeserving of happiness she has not earned and cruel and drunk and inconsiderate and a bitch and I hate her.

Fair enough then, but Marianne represents little more than Alison's own deluded sense of entitlement. We here at Bewildered Heart love a happy ending and as the word count is reached Alison, Gavin and Tory are complete, a loving and happy family. Woo-hoo. Yet if there is one thing even better than a happy ending it is a good ending, with all the story strands resolved in a satisfying and rewarding manner. The Dad Next Door has a happy ending, but a disappointing one. Gavin and Alison's contentment has left a trail of damaged people in its wake, but because those people brought their shame, loneliness and misery on themselves the reader is expected not to mind. If Romance Romance has the opportunity for more complex scenarios, darker character history and less easily-obtained romance than the usual Mills & Boon sub-genres, then Romance Romance owes itself deeper emotional resonance than The Dad Next Door.

Please note that this review refers to CJ Carmichael's The Dad Next Door, and not Kasey Michaels' The Dad Next Door, published by Silhouette and featuring an author with a worryingly similar name.  We also do not mean to criticise Virginia Myers' The Dad Next Door, or any living or deceased male neighbours with children, although you probably have your own narrative issues that a few rewrites and sex scenes would take care of.