Page 19 of A Bookish Story

“Something tells me you understand something about that.”

“Right.”

“I do have a book I’ve been revising forever. Sometimes I think I’ve written the heart right out of the book.”

“It’s time to stop, then.”

“Easier said than done.”

“I’d like to read your novel,” he says.

“You would?”

“When you’re ready. It’s the least I can do. Even if I’m not the intended audience, I could give advice on voice and point of view.”

Yes, especially now. What he wrote is successful. Suddenly, the thought of Ryan reading my work… I feel a little squeamish. I’ve had a few alpha readers, mostly Sofia and Isla, who love it, but they’re my cousins. I’ve entered it into a few contests, which only require the first three chapters, and it always does well. But once it gets to an agent, the rejections inevitably follow.

Maybe I am too derivative and that’s the problem. Ryan reading one of my love scenes would feel like grocery shopping naked because maybe he’ll think that, too. Maybe he’ll think it but he’ll be too nice to say anything.

“I…may take you up on that.”

A slice of moonlight beams through the branches of our family oak tree. One nice thing about the shed is I occasionally get to feel like I live in a shady forest thick with shrubs and trees.

I wander toward the swing set my abuelo set up long ago for all the grandchildren. We’re all grown now and ready for the next generation. It will be my cousin Diego first, I assume, because he’s been dating his high school sweetheart for years. Hopefully the swing will hold up.

Either way, life goes on because a memory never dies. You can count on it. And if you’re lucky, you have plenty of good ones. I think of my papi and how he pushed me on this very swing, laughing and telling me to let my toes touch the clouds. I think of my mother, and wish the memories were better. But I have to reach far back for those, to the times before my father died.

I kick off my sandals, take a seat in the empty swing, and push off.

Ryan sits on the swing next to mine. “Your breakup is recent. I should ask how you feel.”

I pump a little harder, and the soles of my feet graze the top of the garden fence. “He…he made it sound like he wanted to join the Peace Corps to give back, but only later did I find out he followed a woman there.”

His coffeehouse crush, Nadia. We used to bump into each other from time to time but he never gave me the slightest hint he was interested in her.

A few seconds later, I stand and my toes graze across the short damp grass. “I have to confess something. I’m sorry but I haven’t read your book. I meant to, but I’ve got a TBR stack two feet high.”

Ryan shakes his head, smiling. “I’m happy to meet someone who hasn’t.”

“I’ll download it to my e-reader tonight.”

“Not necessary. I should be able to get ahold of the digital file for you. Just give me a day.”

“Because I can’t go on the morning show without at least reading half the book if not the whole thing. I’d feel like a complete fraud. Ever hear of impostor syndrome? I’m about to live it.”

He shakes his head. “You’re a writer even if you didn’t write this book.”

I know he’s right and I’m going to go ahead and claim that belief.

CHAPTER 7

On Monday, I’m sitting on the living room sofa in Ryan’s rental, quietly finishing the last few pages of Soulmates before the online interview with the morning show. He’s conferring with the photographer his publicist sent over with several hardcover print books, which he’s setting up as a backdrop.

A box of books arrived with the photographer this morning, and I finally got to hold the book in my hot little hands. The special edition cover is gorgeous, spray-painted blue edges, a silver foiled and white aesthetic photo of a flower and a ship hovering in the distance. A book you’d want decorating your bookshelf.

I’ve been reading the digital book, but I’m a slow reader and haven’t been able to dedicate twelve hours a day to read. However, I did stay up late last night because Ryan had me more than a little intrigued. I did not see how this could end well for the main characters. I almost committed the cardinal sin of skipping ahead to reassure myself. The book is mostly a love triangle, not my favorite trope. And while I’m rooting for whom I believe the story has clearly told me is the best man, I don’t see how he’s going to get the girl.

Since there are only a few pages left, the happily ever after or happy for now will no doubt be rushed. I’m already not crazy about this book, but apparently I’m greatly in the minority according to Goodreads. The book has close to a million four- and five-star reviews with an average of four and a half stars. This will not be the first time I disagree with the majority on a popular commercial book and surely won’t be the last. It’s a book I’m going to pretend I’ve written, so I wanted to like it but I’m afraid…I don’t.