Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 632(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 421(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 632(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 421(@300wpm)
Like, every time one of them would find out my parents used to be big TV writers, they’d see it as some kind of an angle. So, almost immediately the conversations would turn to, “So, do you know so-and-so? Do you think you could slide them my script?” Or, “Could you get me an audition for…?” Or whatever.
And, look, yet again, I get it. I’ve been very honest with myself about what I want to achieve and why I’m at this convention and all that. Everybody’s gotta look out for themselves. I understand. I just don’t wanna be romantically involved with someone who only sees me as an opportunity and not… me. I suppose.
And Steve doesn’t come across as someone like that.
Not that I’m saying I’m trying to date Steve. Not at all! That’s not what I’m saying! I don’t know Steve! I’m just saying that in comparison to other guys he seems different. Like, he’s just here helping his sister and being her assistant the same way Britney’s mine. It doesn’t seem like he’s got a bunch of lofty career goals that make him potentially… well, pilfer-y.
And all I’m thinking is that that’s refreshing. That’s all.
Seriously.
Really, he seems like a very down-to-earth and nice-to-be-around kind of a—
“Bro!” I hear, and all three of us turn our heads to see a man and a woman approaching.
They look nice, probably early forties, dressed very much like they just came from a PTA meeting at their kids’ school. Which I only notice as it’s in dramatic contrast to the Giorgio Armani cologne commercial vibe Steve is rocking and the costume-party chic aesthetic Britney and I have stumbled our way into.
Romance writers are an eclectic bunch, I’ll tell ya.
“Hey, James,” Steve says, forcing a bit of a smile.
The guy, James, has ruddy cheeks and seems like he’s in the best mood anyone’s ever been in. He comes right up to Steve with his arm extended and his fist balled at the end. When Steve doesn’t immediately reciprocate with an extended arm and fist of his own, this James character bends his elbow and re-extends his fist, like he’s punching forward at no one. “Bro! C’mon, bro! You gonna leave me hangin’, bro?”
Steve smiles tightly, pressing his lips together, then returns the fist bump James appears to so desperately require.
“My bro!” James says, pulling his fist back and making a ‘ppppoooooccchhhhh’ sort of explosion sound.
“Hey, Steve,” the woman says.
“Hey, Audrey, how you doing?” Steve leans in and gives the woman a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“Essie around?” she asks.
“Yeah, she and Mike are around here somewhere. Oh, Audrey, this is Cynthia Lear and her assistant, Britney… sorry. What’s your last name?”
“Kincaid,” Brit says.
“Audrey Saint,” Audrey responds, shaking both of our hands. Then she cocks her head. “You’re Cynthia Lear?” she asks me.
“Um. Yes?”
“I read your first book, The Clock Chimes for Love.
“You did?”
She nods. “It was very good. No, better than very good. It was excellent. I was a high-school English teacher for almost fifteen years. I know good writing, and you’re a very good writer.”
I feel myself flush. But in a nice way. “Wow. That’s very nice. I—Thank you. I wrote that thing in six weeks and just kind of put it out there to see what would happen.”
“Sounds familiar,” she says, with a knowing smile.
“I just feel like that book was so dashed off and I didn’t really have anyone editing it properly, and if I had taken more time I think I could’ve tightened it up a lot and coalesced the story points better, and I feel like the central allegory was so muddled that—” Shut up, Cord. Just shut up. Take the damn compliment. “… Anyway. Thank you. That means a lot. You’re very kind.”
She continues smiling her knowing smile and nods.
“What’s all this?” the guy, James, says, pointing up and down at our dresses.
“I got the nights confused,” Britney says.
“Oh. Yeah, I’ve done that before. Your first con?” James asked. Britney and I both nod. “Well, boom! Welcome! It’s the most fun you’ll ever have with your clothes on! Or not.” He winks. Then he adds, more soberly, “But, yeah, there can be a lot of moving parts to keep track of. I’ve got a spreadsheet I can share with you that helps a lot. A lot.”
“That’d be a-MAY-zing. Thank you.”
“Sure, sure. I don’t think most people realize when they first get into the romance game, especially on the indie side, that it’s not just about writing. I mean, you’re running a small business, for Christ’s sake. Fortunately, I used to have my own accounting practice, so I know some tricks to streamline. Helped old Steve-O here get SS Industries up and running back in the day, didn’t I, Steve-O?”
Steve gives what I like to call a ‘gritty smile.’ “Just ‘Steve’s’ cool. Yeah! Yeah, you sure did.”