Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 82868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“You sent me the manuscript last night. It’s nearly midday. Of course I’ve finished it. I’ve got nothing else to do, have I?”
Staring into my iPad, I try to block out her words. I can’t think about her reading my manuscript until I’ve discharged her. I need to separate being a doctor from escaping being a doctor.
“Well, you can send me my rejection email after I’m done discharging you. Tell me how your pain is.”
“I’m fine.” She waves her hands in the air. “I just need to be more vigilant about what I’m eating. Sign on the dotted line and get me out of here. We need to discuss what’s next for your book.”
“Very well. The nurses will manage your discharge. But your reaction to gluten will be worse if you have it by accident now that you’re not eating it. You need to be careful.”
“Yes, yes. Just tell me I can go home,” she says, throwing her arms in the air.
“It will take some time to get all the paperwork done, but the nurses will tell you when you can leave.”
“I’ll try and be as patient as I can.”
“Good,” I say.
“So when can we talk about your book?”
I pull my mouth into a smile, trying to cover the instinct to say now, now, now. “I have other patients.”
“When do you get off shift?” she pushes.
“Eight.”
“Then I’ll call you at half past eight. Does that suit?”
I’ve waited a decade, but waiting six more hours seems impossible. But that’s how it has to be. I’m committed to medicine for now, which means it has to come first.
“That suits just fine,” I tell Mrs. Fletcher, then push all thoughts of her and my book to the back of my mind as I head to the ward for rounds.
I get home just before my phone rings.
“I want to work with you,” Mrs. Fletcher says before I’ve even managed a hello. She pauses like she’s waiting for me to say something.
“Work with me?” I didn’t mis-hear—I just want time to let the words sink in. “You want to represent my book?”
“I loved it. The detail is fantastic—it feels so real. The hero is likeable despite his flaws. And I like the way you write women. I think it has mass appeal. I really do.”
“This is my first book,” I say.
“I know. And I have notes. I want you to ramp up the love story between Ben and Madeline. There’s definite chemistry there, and I get he still bears the scars over his divorce, but I think his wife should die. It will make it more compelling that he shuts down. I want Maddie to awaken something in him.”
“I’m not writing romance. The book is a mystery.”
“You ever watch Moonlighting?” She scoffs. “Probably not, you’re far too young. But do yourself a favor and watch the first series. I’m sure you can get it on YouTube or something. I don’t want you to watch it for the quirkiness or the atmosphere—your book is more serious. Watch it for the chemistry between Cybil Shepherd and Bruce Willis. They’re electric. And it feels like your hero and heroine here could have the same thing going on. I guess it helps that her name is Madeline, but I immediately thought of Moonlighting. She’s a bit prissy and does things by the book. She comes from money—I love that. And the will-they-won’t-they thing is guaranteed to get people hooked.”
Nowhere in my manuscript does it say Madeline comes from money—but in my head, she absolutely does. It feels kind of weird that Mrs. Fletcher gets that vibe, like she can see into my head.
“That’s my main note. It will take a lot of work to do it well, but I believe you can. If you want to work together, I’m going to annotate the manuscript in hard copy—I’m old fashioned, shoot me—and highlight areas I think are ripe for some of the chemistry to explode. Along with a few other notes I have.”
“Sounds great,” I say.
“But I have two issues. First is, because of my A and E visit, I’m behind at work. So, I’m not going to be able to let you have my detailed notes for a week or so.”
“That’s no problem.”
“Well, it might be. Usually, I’d give authors a month—maybe more—to let me have a revised manuscript. But I don’t have that long. You know I’m due to retire and I want to get this book sold before I do. I want your career to be the last I help launch. You’re a talented writer and I want to see you at the right publisher, with an editor who’s going to look after you. I want to look after you just like you looked after me.”
It's like someone just put the emergency brake on my feelings of complete and utter joy.