Many of you know that I am in the process of writing a book. The process goes something like this: write, write, write; then have people read, read, read. I receive their feedback and then I oscillate between read, edit, write, read, edit, write, write, write. You know the next part... people read, I edit and rewrite some more.
I've become convinced that you can become addicted to your book and want it to be absolutely and perfectly polished before submitting it to agents and publishing companies. So, I have taken another leap and have begun the search for the best agent for me and the book. (In order to address my addiction I have begun the process of writing a second book.)
I thought you might enjoy a glimpse into the book. Due to legal reasons I have had to remove a public individuals name. Please insert the name of your favorite leading man!
Thanks for reading!!
Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood
“[Favorite leading man] lawyers are on the phone,” Taylor jumped backwards from the Caller ID display as if the lawyers on the other end could see her. “Don’t tell me you violated the restraining order again,” she whispered, apparently still worried someone might sense her. “I told you! I told you! I told you! We do not need this now! Not this week.” Taylor said while stabbing the air with her finger.
Whether to answer the call from Mead Jameson and Kelly or not was not the decision, there was only one thing to do, call [favorite leading man] and ask him what was happening. As I tapped my teeth with a freshly manicured finger tip, I pondered for the millionth time how he could have misunderstood me. I still felt really annoyed by his arrogant assumptions about me.
The continued ringing of the phone returned me to reality, where I promptly decided what to do. “I’m going to take a shower.”
“What? How can you go for a shower, shouldn’t you pack a suitcase and get out of here?” Taylor's voice now squawking.
“Listen, I’m going to take a shower, give [favorite leading man] a call, and everything will be fine! Liz promised.” I said, as if this would allay all her fear. Realizing now was not the time to fill her in on my plan I waved an arm and closed the bathroom door.
It was all simple enough, I thought, as I washed my hair. I had seen [favorite leading man] the previous day having lunch at The Volstead, a mid-town bar. As I was leaving, I had to walk past his table, so I said hello. We exchanged stilted pleasantries regarding our health and the weather. As we said our good-byes I told him I was sorry to hear that he and Jemima had split up. Then I left and came home.
Technically I did violate the restraining order by coming within 500 feet of him. Technically I did violate the restraining order by talking to him. But he didn’t seem frightened or perturbed.
Pulling back the shower curtain and reaching for a towel to wrap around my hair, I had the sudden realization that I had made a tactical error in not answering the phone.
I rushed through the routine of lotions, potions, spritzes and sprays! “Did they phone again?” I called to Taylor, while finishing up my routine.
“No, you still have a chance to get out of here before the police arrive!” She anxiously yelled from the living room.
I raced to my bedroom closet, “Come here and help me pick out something to wear,” I called back. My earlier bravado had been replaced by total confusion. I was suddenly unable to make any important decisions by myself.
While I was digging out underwear, Taylor entered the room emitting an aura of panic, a dark haze. “Listen Charlotte, come sit down beside me,” she said as she patted the bed. “We really need to talk about your situation with [favorite leading man].”
Anxious to calm both of us, I blew out a deep breath and said with more confidence than I felt, “Look, I know it’s bad timing and if your mother finds out I am completely screwed, but I am going to get to the bottom of all of this. I might be able to get my life back!”
She gazed at me, her blue eyes saying it all, “You poor deluded girl.”
