Page 25 of Unconventionally, Elle
"Absolutely not, Ellz. My treat for my favorite writer."
"Thanks, best friend." I leaned over and kissed him on his stubbly cheek. I raised my martini and gave him a nod to raise his. I started the toast that Jude and I had created in New Orleans an entire lifetime ago. "Here's to a long life and a happy one, best friends and hearts won, an espresso martini... and another one."
Two days later, I sat with Finn again at our coffee shop table.
"You turn it in?" Finn asked as I tossed my bag into the booth next to him.
"Yep, I had to have my first draft to Olivia within forty-eight hours." I leaned back into our oversized booth in the corner. "It's done, Finn. I really did it."
"I'm so proud of you, Elle. Ya know, off topic but not really, I heard a group talking over by the couches about a writing contest going on right now." He looked at me and then continued. "Apparently, it's been a bit of a tradition in the Boston literary community, and they have a knack of getting debut authors published."
My ears perked up. "Wait, what? You caught all of that just walking by?"
He shrugged. "Okay, well I eavesdropped a little, but yes, I got the gist of the conversation."
Sitting up, I remembered my grandmother's note hanging on my wall. "What's the name of the competition?"
"Oh, um, let me think." He pinched his brows and shook his head. "Literary Times something or other." He pulled out his phone. "Okay, yes. It's the--"
"Literary Times Challenge," I finished for him.
Finn raised his eyebrows and gave me a sideways smile. "You've heard about it, I presume?"
"It's the competition my grandmother won in the seventies. Remember? I showed you that note hanging in the living room. This isthatcompetition." I shook my head in disbelief. "I didn't know it was still going on."
"Ohhhh, no way! Yeah, like I said, it's a bit of a literary tradition, apparently." He gave me his phone, and I scrolled through the rules and regulations.
Over eighteen? Sure.
Unpublished? Definitely.
Write a full novel by December 31, 2022, at 11:59 p.m. EST?Fuck!
"Oh my God, write an entire novel in a few months, that's insane." My eyes were wide as I kept scrolling, my chest tightening.
"I think you can do it," Finn said with absolute certainty.
I looked up at him in disbelief.
"Please, seriously?" I quirked an eyebrow.
"Definitely. Why not?" he responded with a shrug.
I kept scrolling and reading. The winner would be chosen in March, and the grand prize included five thousand dollars and the opportunity to speak with acquiring agents and editors.
"Holy shit," I muttered.
"I mean, your Grandma Di won it. Why can't you, Elle? I feel like it's a sign I heard about this. It's the same competition. C'mon, youhaveto enter now." He put his hand on my arm and squeezed. "I think you should try."
"I don't know. If I don't win, wouldn't that prove I'm not author material? God, and my grandma. I feel like I have to win because she did. If I don't, I... I don't know."
"Ellz, I think Grandma Di would be so proud of you for just trying." His voice was soft and comforting.
"I know she won, right? But even after winning, she still didn't truly believe that writing was a career." I kept staring at the web page with the rules.
"From what you've told me, your grandmother was an extraordinary writer, and she only stopped because she was not quite encouraged buttoldit wasn't her path. She had kids and had a family; you aren't in the same place as her. You have more freedoms and choices than she did." He sat back and crossed his arms over his chest.
"You're right, I do have more freedoms than she did. They married young." I looked away from the computer and into Finn's chocolate-brown eyes. "You really think I should go for it?"
