Page 12 of The Cyrano Situation
"Primarily literary fiction with commercial appeal, some historical fiction, and the occasional narrative nonfiction," I said automatically. "My specialties are complex character studies and works that engage with canonical literature in innovative ways."
"Oookaaay, but we need to make it sound less like a LinkedIn profile and more like a human conversation," Hart said. "Type this: 'Mostly literary fiction and historical novels. I have a weakness for books that reference other books… literary Easter eggs, if you will. Any luck with the Hemingway skeptics?'"
"That's... actually quite good," I admitted, typing the message. "Though I feel compelled to point out that 'Easter eggs' is technically anachronistic when referring to literary allusions that predate digital media."
"And I feel compelled to point out that you're texting a cute guy, not submitting to The New Yorker," Hart retorted. "Send it."
I sent the message, then immediately regretted it. "Wait, should I have asked about what he teaches? Is it presumptuous to assume he only teaches American literature? What if he's a medievalist or specializes in postcolonial theory or—"
"Cyril."
"Yes?"
"You asked about his Hemingway students. That's a normal follow-up question. It's fine."
"Right." I pushed my glasses up my nose. "Of course."
"While we wait for him to respond, can I ask you something?" Hart's voice had shifted slightly, taking on a more careful tone.
"I suppose."
"Why are you so nervous about this? And don't say it's because you're naturally anxious. I've seen you demolish senior editors in acquisitions meetings without breaking a sweat."
I leaned back against my couch, considering the question. "Professional contexts are different. There are established protocols, clear objectives. But this..." I gestured vaguely, though Hart couldn't see me. "Dating is essentially asking someone to continually choose you, day after day, despite having fullaccess to all your flaws and peculiarities. It's... statistically improbable."
"That's the most depressing definition of dating I've ever heard," Hart said, but his voice was gentle. "And also wrong."
"How so?"
"Dating isn't about ignoring flaws. It's about finding someone whose peculiarities fit with yours. Like puzzle pieces."
I snorted. "That's alarmingly sentimental coming from someone whose dating app profile once listed 'tacos' as both his religion and political affiliation."
"Hey, I stand by that. Tacos are bipartisan and spiritually fulfilling." Hart paused. "But seriously, you're a catch, Cyril. You're brilliant and fascinating and you care deeply about things that matter. Anyone would be lucky to date you."
Something warm and unexpected bloomed in my chest. Before I could formulate a response that wouldn't sound pathetically grateful, my phone vibrated with Jules's reply.
"He responded," I said, grateful for the interruption. "Should I read it to you?"
"Hit me."
I cleared my throat. "'Literary Easter eggs! I love that phrase! And yes, I managed to win over a few Hemingway converts by the end of class. I actually teach a pretty wide range of topics. Everything from the American Renaissance to contemporary fiction. This semester I'm doing a special seminar on literary adaptations and retellings. What's the best book that's crossed your desk lately?'"
"Jackpot," Hart said, and I could hear the grin in his voice. "He's giving you multiple threads to pick up. And a seminar on retellings? That's perfect for you, Mr. I-Can-Name-Every-Significant-Reworking-Of-Greek-Myths-Published-Since-1950."
"That's hardly a remarkable feat. Any moderately well-read person could… " I caught myself. "Never mind. What do I say now?"
"This one you can handle yourself," Hart said. "Talk about books you love. Just be yourself."
Panic seized my throat. "Be myself? That's terrible advice. Myself is verbose and pedantic and once spent forty minutes explaining the historical inaccuracies in a colleague's Tudor-era romance novel until she cried."
"Okay, be yourself but with a filter," Hart amended. "You know how to talk about books without making people cry. I've seen you do it."
"That's different. That's professional."
"Then be professional-you, but friendlier. You can do this, Cyril. I believe in you."
The simple declaration shouldn't have affected me as much as it did. I swallowed hard. "Fine. I'll try. But stay on the line in case I need emergency intervention."
