Page 61 of A Storybook Wedding

“I’ll have to ask Dan if Devereaux is as rude to his team as she is here.”

“She wasn’t that bad today. I feel like she was more in her element in workshop. She gave pretty good comments to the guy whose stuff we were looking at. And then she did an exercise about pitching your work, which I really appreciated since I’m about to send out my query letters.”

“So it went okay?”

“It did.”

“And when do you go?” I ask her.

“Tomorrow.”

“Okay, so fingers crossed it’ll go well.” I take a hearty bite of the sandwich she made for me.

“Exactly,” she says. “Honestly, Pen, I think maybe she’s just rude to you because she’s jealous.”

I swallow. “Maybe. I mean, she’s not the first person I’ve met who’s behaved that way. There were two other writers at Yaddo, and they wanted nothing to do with me. I’ve just learned to keep my distance.”

CJ nods. “I just don’t want anyone to be mean to my husband,” she says, smiling.

“It’s fine. I can handle it. But fuck with my wife…see what happens.” I take another bite. “This is delicious, by the way. Is that honey mustard I’m tasting?”

“Yup. It’s the only appropriate condiment for a turkey sandwich.” I can’t tell, but it looks like she might be blushing. “Anyway, you never told me. How was your workshop this morning?”

“It was fine,” I reply. “Nothing to write home about. Pretty typical. I’ve got one woman trying to write romance, so that’s sort of entertaining.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, have you ever read a bad love scene?”

“I’m not sure. Actually, no. I don’t think I have.”

“That’s because you typically only read published work. Well, I’m not going to out this person, because that would be wrong, but let’s just say she submitted an opening chapter of a novel that begins with a very poor attempt at seduction.”

“Why is it a poor attempt?”

“None of the dialogue is convincing. There’s not enough interiority, so we have no idea how the main character feels about the love interest. It’s written in omniscient.”

“Is it literary?”

“No, not at all. It’s not supposed to be,” I explain. “It’s one hundred percent genre. But it’s just not doing what it’s supposed to do.”

“Which is?”

“I’m guessing it’s supposed to turn the reader on. But—I mean, correct me if I’m wrong—but starting a book with a physical description of a farmhand’s erection while baling hay seems a little…I don’t know.”

“Maybe poorly timed?” she offers.

I grin. “Yeah. Maybe.”

“Did you make her cry?”

“God, I hope not. She didn’t cry in class though. I tried very hard to take the piece seriously.”

“Aw. I’m proud of you. You’re growing.”

“Maybe I am.”

“Have you ever written a scene like that?”

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