You & I, Rewritten by Chip Pons Review

Not to jinx it or anything, but the stars seem to finally be aligning for Will Cowen. After accepting a dream promotion at one of New York City’s most renowned publishing houses and moving in with his oldest friend, he’s ready to dive headfirst into this new chapter and take the literary world by storm – that is, until he crosses paths with Graham Austin.

No matter how hard he tries, he can’t help but put the wrong foot forward in front of the all-business and inconveniently gorgeous heir to the publishing empire.

So, when a heartbreakingly beautiful manuscript lands on his desk, Will seizes the opportunity for a win. Could this prized new author be his big break or, his downfall?

Will’s confidence and hope for his professional future is obliterated when the author ghosts him at an important publishing event. Fueled by insecurity and an open bar, he finds himself in need of comfort, which comes from the least likely person, the normally cold and distant Graham. This small glimpse behind Graham’s icy exterior is the spark that sweeps these two up in an epic and unforeseen romance.

As his author’s manuscript begins to take shape, the words that initially brought them together become more and more tangled, making it painfully obvious to Will that despite your best efforts, there is truly no hiding from the past.

But can it be rewritten?

In anticipation of his new book Dearly Departed, I thought it would be an appropriate time to finally read Chip Pon’s debut novel You & I, Rewritten. Originally self‑published as an indie title, this book was subsequently picked up and given a limited hardcover print run by Rainbow Crate as their indie title for their Jan 2025 book box. Following newly hired publishing editor Will Cowen, this book follows his professional and personal journey with his boss Graham Austin as work and romance blend together. This book feels like a safe and wholesome hug to the queer booktok romance community that Chip is a part of, though its indie roots and debut novel nature are quite apparent compared to his more recent trade‑published titles. 

I’m fully aware I’m reviewing Chip Pons’s books out of order, in addition to reading an indie self‑published book after a trade‑published one, which puts You & I, Rewritten on an uneven playing field. This book wasn’t on my radar when it was first published, but I had read and generally enjoyed Chip’s 2025 release Winging It With You, which was entertaining and had some unexpectedly great character writing, but left me wanting more given it was intended to be a lighthearted and fun book; I wanted more of the heavier emotional content that led up to its ending. I had heard that this earlier self‑published book delved into darker themes involving substance abuse, familial conflict, and regrets, which piqued my interest on top of its indie status.

Oddly enough, I found this book to be perhaps even more lighthearted and easygoing compared to Winging It With You. This book has a very casual feel as well as very simplistic prose, which makes it highly accessible with mass appeal. Despite having a premise and synopsis that mention a heartbreaking manuscript, personal insecurities, and painful past memories, the majority of the book is quite upbeat coupled with a loud and hyped narration style. It can certainly be a drawback for some, but Chip’s writing style and tone are very excitable and dramatic, using many exclamation points and italicized reactions (i.e., swoon). It can be a bit excessive and modern for some tastes, but it does match the main character Will’s energy and personality.

Another one of the book’s highlights is that it has a notable #ownvoices feel to it. M/M romance novels have become hugely popular in recent years, but quite a few feature characters or storylines that are shoved into heteronormative couple roles or feature male characters who simply do not act, think, or behave like queer men in real life. It’s a tricky and divisive topic that can easily devolve into gatekeeping genres or stories based on one’s personal identity and background, which is messy and something I’m not going to get into here; it’s a topic Chip has also talked about in author interviews and podcasts. However, the reason I bring this up with You & I, Rewritten is that although the character writing is simplistic, it has the authentic voice clearly told by a gay male author. Will’s thirsty gazes at Graham and quick hard‑ons are written much like how a lot of gay men behave (yes I’m aware not all men are like this, we’re just speaking generally for discussion sake), not getting too wrapped up in the feels and the moment, and both characters feeling each other often. I didn’t realize until reading this book how uncommon spontaneous crotch grabs are in other queer books. The spice and bedroom content are also well written in a way that makes anatomical sense, as well as portraying the fluidity of vers men that many books written by straight women overlook; it’s not as simple as just swapping in the bottom for a woman. I also found it interesting how some negative reviews for this book criticize the characters’ chemistry for being too instalove, the spice too early, and that the less confident man is capable of topping, which is silly since all of those aspects are how a lot of gay flings and relationships are. The ignorance of some M/M romance readers about how real relationship dynamics work vs. the romanticized version pandering to straight female readership is a bizarre thing that I’ve seen pop up quite often in books written by queer men. While it’s not perfect and I think Chip’s other books portray it better, the relationship isn’t as poorly done as other reviews for this book make it out to be.

While this book’s positive pitch and narrative are pleasant to read, it’s not without some significant considerations that give away its self‑published and fresh‑author roots. While the book’s premise sounds good on paper, it can often feel like the premise was written after the fact rather than the story being crafted around it. The book overall has a distinctive lack of urgency or direction and outside of a few key chapters, feels like it moves along without really knowing where it’s going. I used the term slice of life to describe the book earlier in this review which is an apt description as the bulk of the chapters feel like random day outings between Will and Graham that are cute in the moment but feel disconnected from the overall narrative. 

This is a fairly short book at around 250–275 pages depending on the format or edition, but surprisingly little of that space is devoted to Will’s actual publishing job, breaking through Graham’s supposedly icy exterior (which isn’t all that stoic to begin with), or unpacking either character’s past traumas and grief. The more nuanced, mature themes relevant to the premise often appear in abrupt moments with little to no transition. Chapters about Will’s estrangement from his father, Graham’s family issues, and the very dramatic final stretch feel like they drop in out of nowhere, creating tonal whiplash between their cute flirting and dates. The same disjointedness applies to the storyline involving the moving manuscript, especially its ties to Will’s regrets and grief. Conceptually, the ideas and the blending of his professional and personal life are solid, especially the ending and the manuscript’s creation, but the execution and cohesion just aren’t strong enough to make it all land.

The other recurring issue I have with this book is its overall direction and level of detail. The story feels like it’s written on fast‑forward, with events happening so quickly that there’s no time to reflect on what’s happening or to develop each scene fully. For example, after Will and Graham’s first date, the narrative immediately jumps several weeks ahead to a point where they’re suddenly attached at the hip both in and out of the office, a huge missed opportunity for a book centered on balancing one’s personal and professional wants. Whether it’s the dialogue, descriptions, or internal reflections, there’s a consistent lack of detail that makes the book feel less polished and less skillfully crafted. Both characters’ journeys and their attempts to overcome insecurities are solid in theory, but they’re handled at a very surface level and with an overly cautious touch. It also doesn’t help that both characters feel like they don’t really match the roles they were meant to fill. Will is supposed to be a successful and driven editor trying to make a name for himself at his new job but he constantly acts immaturely and embarrassingly cringy in the worst possible way; I get what Chip was going for but it’s heavy-handed and can make Will hard to root for being such a disaster. If I were Graham, this guy wouldn’t have lasted a month on the job before being let go for unprofessional behavior. Graham on the other hand is meant to be detached and cold, being unable to relate to others but the facade is dropped almost immediately and is so soft as a character. The two of them are cute and sweet as a couple and get on well enough, but the relationship can feel basic. Their relationship on page almost entirely consists of therapeutic validation and acceptance, which can be fine for some but for me doesn’t feel like developed romantic chemistry (I see them almost like therapy friends with benefits at times).

It’s also interesting that the book includes trigger warnings in its opening pages, which, paired with the serious‑sounding synopsis, set the expectation for difficult emotional moments that never really materialize. I almost feel like the story has been overly sanitized or pitched too safe out of fear of upsetting sensitive booktok readers, despite clear ambitions to tackle heavier material. I fully believe a book can embody queer joy without shying away from the difficult moments that lead to it; this one makes the mistake of taking on heavy topics without properly developing them, leaving the final result feeling rosy but cheap. The title of rewriting one’s story and history also feels good on paper but the story doesn’t really do rewriting or revisioning except for how Will views his father which occurs in just a few pages. Having read Winging It With You which had some genuinely meaty character work near its end, I know Chip has it in him and either grows into a stronger writer with his second book or benefits from stronger editorial guidance pushing him deeper. Regardless of which, unfortunately you wouldn’t know that if this were the only book of his you read.

Written with the best intentions, You & I, Rewritten has its heart in the right place in promoting queer joy, and despite being an indie debut novel, those intentions are clearly evident. Even with its lackluster execution and general sense of underdevelopment, the ideas in this story are great. The casual, fast pacing is a good fit for readers who simply want a cozy, low‑stakes, feel‑good queer romance with authentic #ownvoices charm and a bit of flirty spice. But for readers seeking deeper emotional reflection or the kind of strong, nuanced character work like I was hoping for, this book isn’t the one for that and is best viewed as Chip Pon’s humble and modest start as a romance author.