Page 46 of A Bookish Story

This makes me laugh because I’ve been accused of relying on this one tool far too often. But I write romantic fantasy.

“It happened to me, too,” I say.

I think of Nadia, a dark beauty, so elusive and mysterious the few times I saw her at the coffee shop. Then I wonder how many times they met together in private, while I was home pulling the strands of my hair out one by one, trying to write my book.

“That was his mistake,” Ryan says.

A warm blush rolls over me. “We were supposed to get married and I had to cancel the wedding venue and pay for the penalties.”

“Damn.”

“At least he didn’t leave me at the altar. That’s…that’s why I live in a shed. The rent on our condo was too much for me alone. Wait. Forget I said that. I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

If this was a text message, I could edit. Delete, delete, delete. But it’s too late. It’s out there. “It’s not like I want you to feel sorry for me. I have a wonderful family, you’ve met them, and I could live in the main house but it’s small and crowded. And this is just temporary.”

“You should have said something. I’ll have a check for you on Monday.”

That’s not why I’m laying my heart bare right now, and I wish I hadn’t mentioned money. It’s never been important to me or I wouldn’t be a writer.

“Don’t worry about that, I’m fine. I’m letting you know I understand what you went through. Being abandoned is tough. The thing of it is, once someone leaves you, if they come back, I think it’s impossible to believe they won’t leave you again. And they usually do.”

“Is that another warning about giving my ex another chance? Because that’s not happening.”

I’m actually thinking of my mother because even now I’m wondering how much longer it will be before she takes off. I saw her rental car this morning, parked on the curb. Abuelita is not going to ask her to leave and Eddie will follow her lead. My mother will be here as long as she wants to be. Historically, it hasn’t been more than a week. I’m tired of seeing her walk out the door but it’s what I’ve come to expect.

“You deserve better.”

“Would you take your ex back? What if he grovels the way Grayson did?”

“No. I’d have to take my own advice, or I’d be a hypocrite. The same issues would still be there. I thought Chris was different but he’s an entitled…jerk!”

“Tell me what you really think.”

“I was actually editorializing what I really think. Want to know what I think? Chris joined the Peace Corps to break off our engagement because he didn’t have the courage to do it any other way.”

“And maybe he didn’t want to hurt you. Speaking for my species, men, we’re a little stupid sometimes. We don’t want to confront our feelings because they could lead to discomfort. We’re creatures of comfort.”

“Don’t defend him.” I’m irked by how close he hit the mark with Chris, who doesn’t even like to get caught in the rain without an umbrella.

“Sorry, just being devil’s advocate. I’m trying to understand how any red-blooded male would ever choose anyone but you.”

There’s silence for a beat as I absorb the words. They send a new thrill running through me but I remind myself Ryan is trying to cheer me up. He’s being nice to the woman who’s literally saving his career.

Nothing more.

That evening, I settle in to write. This time, it’s my book. I pull it up again and I imagine even the file looks tired and worn. It’s been through so many edits, revisions, and changes I’m not sure it’s my book anymore. Maybe I’ve lost the heart.

It’s my opus, a romantic fantasy set in a world where time doesn’t exist. Two people from different positions of power love each other beyond and across time. I don’t think it’s ready but hey, as Nora Roberts famously said, “you can’t edit a blank page.” I’m not sure what she’d say about someone who keeps editing the same pages over and over. I suppose that’s what happens when you don’t have a contract, or a deadline, and you’ve collected dozens of rejections along the way.

As I read, I find the good parts I can’t believe I wrote, and then the cringy scenes. Something is missing but I don’t know what it is. There’s a reason dozens of agents have turned me away, many of them saying, “Love the premise, but I couldn’t connect with these characters.”

Inspired by Ryan, I too decide to write something different. Sometimes this gets the juices flowing. Ryan wrote a romance. I can certainly write a short thriller portraying Chris as a serial killer I must murder to protect the world.

Picture, if you will, Stephen King’s Misery meets Katherine Center’s The Bodyguard. A weird mix and not my usual fare. But my idea/brainchild centers around a woman (Millie) who steals her husband’s manuscript and tries to pass it off as her own. She gets a significant deal, then needs to hire a bodyguard (I cast Ryan) to protect her from her murderous ex (Chris.) But the bodyguard, who seduces her, is a friend of the ex, and they both conspire to kill her.

Meh, it’s a work in progress.

And yes, I am feeling maybe a tad homicidal toward Ryan’s ex-wife. If Chris had sent anything I’d written to an agent without my approval I’d be devastated. Humiliated.