All people who work with The Fixer have homework. One chick had to go shopping, find accessories and buy some dresses. Bitch. I want that assignment. Me, I frustratingly fiddle with a new website and read books.
My taste in books runs toward the classics, a big batch of nonfiction and fiction when the buzz catches my attention or The Goddess says it’s a must read. Book suggestions? The Goddess is your girl. Hard to stump her with, “Have you read…?”
The Fixer’s glittery plans for me include all manner of book success. She knows this is my heart. She consistently steers me toward a year of writing in Belgium. Photos of Bruges and Antwerp clutter my vision board. I have the travel guide. I’ve even spied the perfect cottage on the water for spinning tales.
She tells me I will write romance there. Whaaaa? The mind wanders to Mr. Darcy, Heathcliff and Jane Eyre. She assigned a romance novel a bit ago and questions why it is not read. Surely we would discuss if I had read it. Why have I not read it yet?
Oh, I don’t know: a daily blog, clients, Paulo Coelho’s 31 novels and, occasionally, sleep. Besides, she tells me it’s in 1500s Scotland and it involves time travel. Seriously? I am to notice the author’s style, description and adept story weaving.
The last bodice ripping romance I read was eons ago. High school boys cannot compete with young girls’ imaginings of love and lust. Pirates, Lords and various roguish beasts tamed only by feisty, virgin heroines proved far more interesting than some of the boys my age.
And, of course, there is Fifty Shades which, while oddly appealing, serves as more a primer for scary shit in a red room than old fashioned romance.
Too tired to incur the wrath of The Fixer, I decide to read a few chapters.
Two hours later I am in love with Hawk, a man known for his finesse in both battle and boudoir. His sweet seduction could wreak havoc with my resolve any day. No lie.
I am swept away in fantasy and it is delicious. I see a client and find myself thinking, “Hurry it up buddy. I have to find out what happens to Adrienne.” Shockingly, I have no trouble following along with time travel and other manner of silliness.
Reality leaves me, transported through words, to a faraway land with worry of nothing but love. And a vengeful fairy desperate to keep the lovers apart. And Scottish Highlands and men in kilts. Oh my.
And maybe that’s the point. I told her at the start of our work together what I wanted most was to affect people’s lives for the better through words. Of course there are more important things to write about.
This writer, however, would take it as a compliment to see a chick having to fan herself while reading my novel.