Chapter 23
Montrose
It seemed so weird to be writing without Syd in the office. It was startling to realize just how much I’d become used to hearing her papers rustle, or the soft clack of her keyboard as I read students’ papers or—wait for it—started a new chapter in my work in progress.
Yeah, I was deep into Down in Flames. I was still on the fence about the whole Esme/Rachel thing, so I was just using Esel as a placeholder knowing it would be an easy find and replace later.
It wasn’t quite as inspired as Folly, and the writing didn’t flow. It was…work this time. But it felt good to keep going on the same project, and I tentatively held my literary breath that perhaps I was past the big hurdle in my career.
Something wasn’t quite right with it, though.
There was something missing. But, where before my mind would have wandered to other stories, other characters, this time I stuck it out with Esel and crew, and trudged through.
I trusted myself as a writer enough (okay, almost enough) to know I could figure out what was missing by the time I finished the first draft and could go back and fix it in edits.
My phone rang and at first I got excited thinking maybe Syd’s roommate’s birthday party got over early, but realized it wasn’t her ring tone.
“Hi Nora,” I said to my agent.
“Hi Billy, sorry to call you on a Friday night.”
“That’s okay, I’m actually still in the office.”
“Great. So, how’s the writing going?” she asked, just like she had every time she’d called me in the past five years.
First it had been weekly, wanting to cash in on the post-Folly buzz.
Then it had dropped to every other week, then monthly.
Now I heard from Nora about four or five times a year with a “I’m ready anytime you are, Billy.
People will be jumping to get your next book…
they just won’t be jumping as high next year. ”
I could only imagine how much money I’d left on the table by not having a second book finished in the first year or two after Folly came out.
Those thoughts will only impede your journey forward. My shrink’s voice played in my head as I gauged how much to share with Nora.
“Well, Nora, it’s early, but I think I’m on to something.”
There was a long pause on the other end. I’d said stuff like that to Nora early on, but after a while I had figured there was no sense fudging the truth—or outright lying—to the woman who had a stake in my career.
“Billy…that’s…that’s great,” she said, genuine enthusiasm, and surprise, in her voice.
“How far along are you?” the businesswoman in her asked.
No “What’s it about?” or “Are you liking it?” Nope, those were questions from an editor, or a fan.
My agent was one of the best in the business and I valued her greatly.
But she was not a cheerleader or a hand-holder.
Something that appealed to me when I signed with her.
I did a quick look at my word count, something I had refused to do thus far.
“I’m at…” (holy shit) “a little over eighty-thousand words.” Folly had been right around a hundred thousand words.
And though Down in Flames would probably be a bit longer, it wouldn’t be a lot over that.
I wasn’t far from being done with the first draft. (Holy shit!)
Another long pause. Nora was probably quickly trying to process this news. I’d never given her anything more than “I’m a couple of chapters in,” and even that had been a lie.
“Billy, that’s great,” she said, her voice still unsteady, as if she was sailing in uncharted waters.
I’m sure she got “almost there” type of news from her authors all the time, but in the six years I’d been with her, she’d never heard it from me.
Folly was complete before I submitted to agents way back when.
I’d done some polishing based on Nora’s notes before she’d shopped it, but this was new territory for the two of us together.
“Um…well…I know you’ve been reluctant to show me anything you were working on in the past, but…”
That was because there was never anything beyond chapter one. But, still…I wasn’t sure I was ready for feedback yet. At least not from my agent. “I don’t think it’ll be too much longer before I can send you the completed first draft. That might be best.”
“Of course. Really, you think you’ll…complete it? Soon?”
I laughed at Nora’s inability—even being the shark that she was—to hide her shock.
“Yes, Nora, this one will be completed. And if I can get a couple of glitches figured out, it will probably only be three or four weeks. Of course, there will be edits and—”
“Oh, my God, Billy! That is such great news.” Nora had been a great agent for me, leading me through the process of first time publication with tough love, but patience.
To now hear what sounded like tears in her voice…
it made me feel both joyous and shitty that it had taken five years to get to this point.
Let the rest of the bullshit go. I’d said to Jane Winters. That’s all behind me. It was all…pre-Syd.
I was vaguely paying attention as Nora went on and on about her game plan for the book. I made the necessary noises, but my mind wandered to Syd.
I had thought that Bribury was what I needed to kick-start my writing, at the very least to get out of NYC and the various distractions the city held for me.
But I’d been at Bribury for a semester and had never even come close to typing “Chapter Two.”
It was only after working with Syd, talking with Syd, making love to Syd, that things became…unclogged, and I was able to let my thoughts flow freely on the page.
As if I’d conjured her up, there was a knock on the door and she stuck her head in. Seeing I was on the phone, she started to back out of the semi-open door, but I motioned her in. She waved to me and then proceeded to take off her coat, boots, hat and mittens.
“Okay, Nora, that all sounds good. Hold off on anything concrete, though, okay?” I said, not really having heard all she’d said.
Certainly nothing since Syd had taken off her coat and I saw she was wearing those skin-tight, stretchy legging things that all the Bribury girls were wearing.
Syd had on a long sweater hiding all the best parts, but I knew very well what I would find underneath that bulky, black wool. And I’d soon be refreshing my memory.
“Okay, sure,” Nora said, drawing my mind back to the conversation. But my eyes stayed on Syd as she took a pile of papers from the credenza and headed over to the couch with her backpack. “But, Billy?” Nora said.
“Yes?”
“How about I have some casual lunches and just let it…slip that you’re close to being done. Just to, you know, get a buzz started. Would that be okay with you?”
“How long can we sustain a buzz?”
“For you? At least six months.”
“I won’t need six months. Unless you read it and think it needs four months of work.”
I could tell she was wondering which way to go. Be prudent and possibly deflate me, or… “There won’t be four months’ worth of work, Billy. I’m sure it will be great.”
Nora wasn’t one of the top literary agents for nothin’.
“Okay, then. Just a casual slip. Don’t let them think we’re shopping yet. And make sure Adina is one of the people who hears the news.”
Adina Saunders had been my editor with Folly and had really smoothed out my first-time edges and helped shape the book.
Because of the deal we’d held out for, we didn’t have to bring it to her first, but I wanted to give her that courtesy.
I’d take the best deal for me and for Down in Flames (assuming I was offered any deal), but I wanted to give Adina a chance to match it so we could work together again.
“Got it. As it so happens, I’m having lunch with her next week.”
“Great. Then hold off on any other leaks until you have lunch with her. Let her be the first to hear it.”
“Will do. Are you sure you don’t want me to take a look at what you’ve got so far?”
I swallowed, thinking. It just didn’t feel right. “Nah, I’m good right now. I just want to finish it.”
“Super. Okay, I—Oh, Christ, I almost forgot the reason I called you.”
“What’s that?”
“Well, I don’t think it’s anything to worry about, but we’ve been getting mail again from an overzealous reader. Another Folly Dolly.”
“Kari Aldrich again?” I said, naming my most persistent fan/stalker. I noticed Syd’s head move when I mentioned another woman’s name, but she didn’t look up from her work.
No need, she had nothing to worry about. Crazy fan girls (who got absolutely no attention from me) aside, these days I wasn’t looking at anyone but Syd.
“No, a new one. I just wanted to give you a heads-up. Her name is Sarah Tudreau. The usual kind of letters…‘she feels she knows you’ and ‘she knows you’re her soul mate.’ You know the drill.”
I sighed. “Anything I need to do?”
“No. We’ve sent her the standard letter. And are prepared to send her the more strident one if we keep hearing from her. It helps that you’re not at your apartment. This one lives in the city.”
Jesus. It was sad that we had levels of “Fuck off, Crazy” letters that we’d had to send to some people.
We’d even had to do a restraining order against one.
Women. Girls. They were all female, and all knew that we were “meant to be together” because they’d loved the character Aidan Colly and assumed he was me.
“Okay,” I said. “Thanks for the heads-up.”
“It’s probably nothing, but I wanted you to know the name. Just in case she showed up on your doorstep or something.”
“Yeah, I appreciate it.”
“Okay. Keep me posted on your timeline and I’ll let you know how lunch with Adina goes next week.”
We said our goodbyes and I hung up. I stayed behind my desk, but said to Syd, still engrossed with something I’d written on a cocktail napkin, “I didn’t expect to see you tonight. How was the party?”
She lowered the napkin, putting it into a pile next to the couch. One of several she’d already made since she arrived. The woman worked quickly.