Maybe it was possible for a person to be in love with multiple people at once.
And maybe it was possible for a person to collect as many homes as they wanted.
Luca rinsed the beer cans, put them out with the recycling. And then he returned to the deck, for just a few minutes more.
This is what he would miss, he realized. The cabin had been good to him. Steady, solid walls that kept him safe and comfortable, that let him grow into himself. He had written so many words inside these walls. Had had a lot of good sex. Had recovered from so many fishing trips, his body always most relaxed here.
Until he’d started falling asleep next to Emerson.
But this view of the Pacific.
If he gave up this place, that was what scared him most to lose. The sea had always been there in his periphery, from his childhood home to the boats to here. It was maybe silly, he knew, to feel sentimental about it; the ocean would still be here. Short King Farms was still in Greyfin Bay, even if it was farther from the shoreline than he’d ever lived.
But he’d been thinking. Maybe his family would think it was dumb, but he was going to ask his dad if he could beadded back to the boats’ group chat. Even if Luca never responded to anything, even if he ended up not understanding half of it since he wasn’t there. It would be nice, getting to hear about it all anyway.
And as he looked out at the view that had helped raise him, he knew he wasn’t in true danger of forgetting about the ocean. Even if he ended up getting too wrapped up in all the duties on the farm he wanted to take on, even if he and Emerson worked too hard to remember to take a walk on the beach sometimes.
They had Daisy to remind them.
twenty-seven
The rejection cameon a Friday afternoon, the day after Dell’s inspector had given her report on the cabin. No structural issues; all clear for sale. Dell expected the paperwork could be done in two weeks or so.
It was a different kind of agent rejection than Luca had received before. It certainly wasn’t a form rejection. It was thorough, a full-blown letter. After receiving so many rejections over the years, after having been ghosted at twice the rate of actual rejections, the fact that someone had taken the time to both read and think carefully about Luca’s book felt so compassionate and generous that he couldn’t even read the letter all the way through before slamming his laptop closed.
He did a lap around the kitchen, hands on his hips, taking deep huffs of air, trying not to feel ridiculous about how fast his heart was beating.
Jansel had just left for the day. Daisy was at Jayden’s. Emerson was out in the barn, finishing up his daily chores with Sally and the chickens.
He’d probably still be out there for a while, but Luca couldn’t be sure. He didn’t know what would come out of hismouth if Emerson walked in right then and asked what had happened. If he’d be bitchy and petulant, if he’d grow sullen and closed off, if he’d cry. He was sure Emerson would be soothing and encouraging no matter what, but Luca didn’t want or need any of that right now.
He just wanted to be alone with Ro and Indigo and Jack.
He grabbed his laptop, shoved his shoes back on. There was a tiny bit of daylight left. Slithering out the back door, Luca hurried up the dirt road, laptop still clutched under an arm. When he reached the wildflower field, he walked until he reached the small dais Emerson had built for Ben and Alexei, that still lay quiet in the middle of the blooms.
It was a different array than he’d first seen, almost two months ago now when Emerson first gave Luca a tour. Some of the flowers were the same, but some new ones had popped up, even as the air turned cooler, the diversity of color and shapes somehow a little different every time Luca visited, however it looked in Ben and Alexei’s wedding photos never to be exactly replicated. It mirrored Luca’s work with the crops, too, with the daily evolutions of the berry patch and orchard: progress seemed to move slowly at the same time that Luca had a hard time believing how many beds had already been turned over to something new, how quickly they had to move to seed new crops while others reached their height. How the work remained steady at the same time that their work was always changing and moving forward.
Luca sat cross-legged on the dais and opened his laptop.
He scrolled to where he’d left off, past theThank you for your patience with me as I read…introductory paragraph.
The world building you’ve created here is incredible,along with the character work. I truly knew Ro, along with Indigo and Jack and all the rest, and was rooting hard for them, even with their flaws. Perhaps it’s due tothe fact that I cared about them so much that by the end of the book, something about their ending didn’t settle right with me. This is a dark book, and there is nothing inherently wrong with that—certainly darkness has always been a central theme in the world of speculative fiction. But there has to be some kind of payoff for surviving (or attempting to survive) that darkness, and I found myself wanting more light for them.
Especially in the current market, where readers in our current political climate are increasingly wanting lighter escapes, even in SFF, I have a hard time seeingDriftselling in its current form. But your writing and storytelling capabilities are clearly there, and I’d love to see more of what you can do.
I’ve attached a document with some more specific notes—some areas of the manuscript I thought really shined and some areas where I saw room for adjustments. In particular, I highlighted places where the gloom sometimes also slowed down the pacing. While, again, not wanting the darkness to disappear completely, I think the overall trajectory of the story needs to lead to a brighter, more hopeful conclusion, and regardless of these notes, how that could happen is entirely up to you.
It’s also possible, of course, that changingDriftto such a degree is more of a lift than you agree with. I’d be more than open to reading new or other manuscripts from you that we might be able to better angle into the market. Please feel free to send me anything else you’re working on.
Thanks again for the opportunity to read your work. I look forward to keeping in touch.
twenty-eight
October
“Hi.”Emerson blinked in surprise a second after pushing the shower curtain aside. Luca leaned against the doorframe of the now-open bathroom door, eyes raking across Emerson’s still-dripping body in approval.
“Hi,” Luca said back, a small smile in the corner of his mouth as Emerson grabbed a towel. He scrubbed it over his hair first, covering up his flushed face, before wrapping it around his waist, knowing it wasn’t enough to cover his suddenly-on-alert dick.
