B. K. Borison’s decision to have a character order a “sub” at Wawa in her new novel has ignited a concentrated online backlash — and alec appears among the identifiers readers use as they argue over language, locality and authenticity. The controversy reframes a single line in And Now, Back to You as a test case in how regional vocabulary is policed by readers.
What is not being told? What should the public know about the ‘Wawa sub’ debate?
At the center is a simple, verifiable set of facts: the novel And Now, Back to You is set in Baltimore and includes a line in which a character gets a “sub” from Wawa. B. K. Borison, an award‑winning contemporary romance author, has said she respects the term hoagie used in the Philadelphia region but that, in the book’s context, it made sense for her character to say “sub. ” An online post pointing out the word choice registered major attention, registering over 280, 000 views. The reaction from some readers has been extreme; comments in that thread included demands and hyperbolic calls for censure.
Alec reaction: How Borison, local usage and public data line up
Verified facts show a complex picture rather than a single right answer. Wawa locations in the Baltimore area use the word hoagie on menus and in promotions for HoagieFest, yet other measures captured in the public record indicate broader use of the term “sub” in that market. A search trend analysis cited in the reporting finds “sub” used at a significantly higher rate in Baltimore than “hoagie. ” Members of an online group called Hoagie Gurus discussed regional labels, and several Baltimore‑based contributors said they use “sub. ” Review content for Wawa locations in Baltimore contained far more mentions of “subs” than of “hoagies. ” Borison has publicly defended her choice, stating she respects the regional term but chose “sub” for her fictional character’s voice.
Who benefits, who is implicated, and what does this mean?
Stakeholders fall into distinct camps: the author, who frames the choice as a narrative decision tied to character; retailers, which officially brand specific sandwiches one way while customer language may vary; and local readers asserting cultural ownership of regional terms. Verified evidence shows tension between institutional branding (Wawa’s hoagie labeling and promotions) and patterns in public usage documented by search trend analysis and review mentions. The broad online reaction — including extreme commentary — signals that a single line in a novel can become a proxy for contested local identity. Informed analysis: this episode illustrates how literature that invokes local color is subject to real‑time verification by engaged communities, who expect fidelity to local vocabulary even when data show usage is mixed.
It is also verified that experts and archival references differ on the origin of the word hoagie and that multiple alternative regional terms exist for the same sandwich. The book’s setting, a character named Delilah, and Borison’s explicit statement about context are all established in the record. Analysis: when an author uses a nonlocal term in a local setting, the mismatch can attract disproportionate attention because it triggers questions about authenticity, authority and ownership of regional culture.
Accountability demands transparency and respect for the facts: readers, writers and retailers all contribute to language in circulation, and verified data should inform arguments about correctness. For now, B. K. Borison stands by her phrasing, Wawa’s own menu language remains in place, and public usage measures complicate any claim of a single authoritative term. The debate will persist in comment threads and community groups, where alec and many other readers continue to weigh in on whether a single word in a rom‑com is a cultural misstep or a legitimate choice in service of character and context.
