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I know that isn’t the norm. YA PNR is more about the romance and the paranormal stuff than any politics. but I wanted to show an interesting instance of my heroine teleporting, so I wrote the scene below.
It’s meant to entertain. Probably I will have no more scenes dealing with Trump or American politics.
Can I get away with including this one scene below in my novel?
I worry because since its a clean romance, with no sex and minimal bad language, it attracts Christian beta readers and I would guess many are Conservatives. I’m unsure what they will feel about my making fun of Trump. I don't think I was too hard on him, but they might not like fun being made of him at all? Though actually I get the impression they are well aware of how funny he is and how funny his utterances are. I think they’ll be able to take a joke. I hope so anyway.
I paste it below so you can best judge how it would sound to have this scene in a Young Adult paranormal romance that really isnt about US politics, except that I might make my characters make some jokey references:
Chapter Two
THE PRESIDENT HAS NO CLOTHES
The best thing about teleporting is the reduced carbon footprint. The worst thing is the naked presidents.
It wasn’t my fault. “To the White House!” I willed. And my will was done.
The décor was impressive; the people were not. I expected West Wing; House of Cards; Scandal.
I got a yawnathon. No wonder women like the strong, silent type. The less men speak, the smarter they sound.
“Take me to where the action is,” I ordered myself.
And I found myself in the Presidential Bathroom. I assumed there was more than one, but this was the one that contained the Great Man himself.
His back to me, he leaned over his bathtub and dipped a finger into the water.
So he didn't have a flunkey to test his bathwater temperature? How plebeian. How forty-seven percent.
But I’m friendly to all, both high and low. “Hi! How’s it hangin’?”
He gave a strangled cry and spun around. His towel slipped off. I modestly averted my gaze, but not before noticing he had small hands.
I looked around, but he didn't seem to own a bathrobe.
I tried again. “Happy Bath Day, Mr. President. Been a rough year, huh? Are the Germs and French fries still on your case?”
Now what could be more sympathetic than that? But he just gurgled and gawked. Maybe he thought it a stupid question. Obviously the whole world was on his case.
“India seems to like you,” I tried to offer consolation. “Speaking of which, did you hear about the young American who went to India to find a guru? The one he found said, ‘No, it’s no use asking ME any questions. I too am an American who came to India fifty years ago to discover the meaning of life.’”
He kept burbling like a toilet with an empty cistern trying to flush. So much for humor lubricating a tight situation.
How disappointing. Where was the chutzpah and repartee? Was he all tweet, no cattle?
“I bring a message from a higher power.” I pointed upward, trusting he knew I meant heaven and not his wife’s boudoir. “Beware the Russians!”
He went a weird shade of orange-green, grabbed some device beside the bathtub, and pressed a button. “Security!” he bellowed.
How insulting. I thought he liked pretty girls. Had Kathy Griffin spoiled all redheads for him?
I vamoosed. Okay, so maybe it WAS all my fault. In my defense, I’d JUST come into my powers. Even Supergirl had a learning curve.
I kept checking his Twitter feed for days afterwards, but found no tweet about the incident. This was not a transparent administration at all.
It’s meant to entertain. Probably I will have no more scenes dealing with Trump or American politics.
Can I get away with including this one scene below in my novel?
I worry because since its a clean romance, with no sex and minimal bad language, it attracts Christian beta readers and I would guess many are Conservatives. I’m unsure what they will feel about my making fun of Trump. I don't think I was too hard on him, but they might not like fun being made of him at all? Though actually I get the impression they are well aware of how funny he is and how funny his utterances are. I think they’ll be able to take a joke. I hope so anyway.
I paste it below so you can best judge how it would sound to have this scene in a Young Adult paranormal romance that really isnt about US politics, except that I might make my characters make some jokey references:
Chapter Two
THE PRESIDENT HAS NO CLOTHES
The best thing about teleporting is the reduced carbon footprint. The worst thing is the naked presidents.
It wasn’t my fault. “To the White House!” I willed. And my will was done.
The décor was impressive; the people were not. I expected West Wing; House of Cards; Scandal.
I got a yawnathon. No wonder women like the strong, silent type. The less men speak, the smarter they sound.
“Take me to where the action is,” I ordered myself.
And I found myself in the Presidential Bathroom. I assumed there was more than one, but this was the one that contained the Great Man himself.
His back to me, he leaned over his bathtub and dipped a finger into the water.
So he didn't have a flunkey to test his bathwater temperature? How plebeian. How forty-seven percent.
But I’m friendly to all, both high and low. “Hi! How’s it hangin’?”
He gave a strangled cry and spun around. His towel slipped off. I modestly averted my gaze, but not before noticing he had small hands.
I looked around, but he didn't seem to own a bathrobe.
I tried again. “Happy Bath Day, Mr. President. Been a rough year, huh? Are the Germs and French fries still on your case?”
Now what could be more sympathetic than that? But he just gurgled and gawked. Maybe he thought it a stupid question. Obviously the whole world was on his case.
“India seems to like you,” I tried to offer consolation. “Speaking of which, did you hear about the young American who went to India to find a guru? The one he found said, ‘No, it’s no use asking ME any questions. I too am an American who came to India fifty years ago to discover the meaning of life.’”
He kept burbling like a toilet with an empty cistern trying to flush. So much for humor lubricating a tight situation.
How disappointing. Where was the chutzpah and repartee? Was he all tweet, no cattle?
“I bring a message from a higher power.” I pointed upward, trusting he knew I meant heaven and not his wife’s boudoir. “Beware the Russians!”
He went a weird shade of orange-green, grabbed some device beside the bathtub, and pressed a button. “Security!” he bellowed.
How insulting. I thought he liked pretty girls. Had Kathy Griffin spoiled all redheads for him?
I vamoosed. Okay, so maybe it WAS all my fault. In my defense, I’d JUST come into my powers. Even Supergirl had a learning curve.
I kept checking his Twitter feed for days afterwards, but found no tweet about the incident. This was not a transparent administration at all.