All He Ever Wanted <Closed thread for Chanaud>

[darrenfate]

OOC: Inspired by Anita Shreve's "All He Ever Wanted" - thank you for our continuing collaboration beautiful Chanaud ...


JUSTIN

Justin closed the book with tears welling in his eyes. Damn. God Damn!

This woman writer was good. No fuck that verb. She was great. Never before had he been moved like that. The interplay of the characters - the emotion - the passion. Rosario, the book's heroine, was quick, smart, and sexy. The New York Times suggested that the character was largely autobiographical.

It wasn't fair. Her first novel!

Justin thought about all the stories he had written. He wrote lengthy outlines. He spent hours drafting and revising and then rewriting because of an editor. To no avail. His stories never sold. One reviewer called his writing "pedantic". Justin even had to look that word up. That was the final straw. He was forced to concede that he was no writer.

Hopping on the net he saw that she was due to speak on a panel at the New Orleans Book Fair in two days.

He stared at the book jacket. It had the obligatory picture of the author. She was thin and tall. Some might even say "skinny". Well skinny except for that hourglass shaped ass. The shoot's backdrop was some yacht club, he could see the boats behind her with a banner proclaiming the "Sunfish World Championships". She looked like a million bucks, tanned and well rested in the brilliant sunshine.

Justin fell in love. Hard.

He booked a flight for the next morning. He had to find her. To talk to her. To make her love him as much as he did her no matter what it took and what her romantic circumstances were. Impossible? Maybe. He just knew he had to go.

Laissez le bon temps rouler

 

[chanaud]

Rose O'Connell

Rose stared hard at the blank screen before her. Her twisted eyebrows braided into a knot masked the troublesome worry in her almond shaped eyes. She was immune to the slight bumps the Boeing 747 was taking. Her mind was as blank as the screen. Except the screen had more, it had the damn flashing cursor.

It’s been the same story, different setting for the past three months. She lost her drive to write. And now for the first time in her life, she’s being paid handsomely, Rose lost it. All of it. Even typing the word ‘the’ has become a chore.

It’s the first time Rose had been inflicted by this plague. Ever since she’s learned to read and write, she had always found something to scribble in her constant notebook. She’s even won awards in high school and college. Was voted ‘Most Likely to Succeed’ and ‘Most Likely to Marry her High School Sweetheart’. They both came true after college. Well the latter came first. And ten years later success arrived – her first novel sold over a million copies and is now on its 6th publication in several different languages.

But with every success has a price. The greater the success, greater the price. The price was her marriage. Actually her marriage was dead years ago. She knew it but was too busy writing to care. Until she happened to pay a surprise visit to her attorney husband and found him bent over his mahogany desk by a promising judge.

The divorce was quick and painless. The advance for her second novel including a sizeable settlement by her now gay ‘out of the closet’ ex-husband afforded a comfortable living while she writes her second novel. Only the words didn’t come as easily as the first. And Rose was desperate. Terribly desperate. The deadline was in two months.

Nobody, not even her publisher was aware of her plague. She feigned a great surprise. A novel idea. Her ink was flowing. Her publishers were on the edge of their seat. Rose’s cherry disposition kept all curiosity at bay. Her publishers were ecstatic. They’ve hit a gold mine with her. They’ve even leaked gossip to the press. A few even managed to review the book sight unseen. Rose helped by attending several writer’s conferences to help promote her second book. And that is why she’s on Delta Boeing 747 on the way to New Orleans. Everybody was on the edge of their seat. Including Rose. Only everybody was anxious for Rose O’Connell’s new book while she was anxious for a single word.

Instead of writing, Rose dozed off only to be awakened by a friendly welcome to New Orleans. She looked down to find the damn cursor mocking at her. She slammed the cover down. A few heads turned her way. Some smiled as they recognized her face. Rose was forced to smile back. She quickly fished for her shades to avoid further eye contact.

With her simple garment bag in hand, Rose walked briskly by the attendants and towards the exit sign. A few long strides later, an unfamiliar voice called out to her. Rose feigned ignorance and quickened her steps. She was not in the mood to face the public. Not now. Not today. Maybe tomorrow. After she’s written a few pages…

 

[UC_Gav]

sorry, pressed the wrong button