#46 Inside the Emotion of Fiction's THE LAST COLLECTION by Jeanne Mackin

Chris Rice Cooper 

caccoop@aol.com

https://www.facebook.com/car.cooper.7

*The images in this specific piece are granted copyright privilege by:  Public Domain, CCSAL, GNU Free Documentation Licenses, Fair Use Under The United States Copyright Law, or given copyright privilege by the copyright holder which is identified beneath the individual photo.

**Some of the links will have to be copied and then posted in your search engine in order to pull up properly

***The CRC Blog welcomes submissions from published and unpublished fiction genre writers for INSIDE THE EMOTION OF FICTION.  Contact CRC Blog via email at caccoop@aol.com or personal Facebook messaging at https://www.facebook.com/car.cooper.7

****Jeanne Mackin’s The Last Collection – A Novel of Elsa Schiaparelli and Coco Chanel is #46 in a never-ending series called INSIDE THE EMOTION OF FICTION where the Chris Rice Cooper Blog (CRC) focuses on one specific excerpt from a fiction genre and how that fiction writer wrote that specific excerpt.  All INSIDE THE EMOTION OF FICTION links are at the end of this piece. 

Name of fiction work? And were there other names you considered that you would like to share with us? The Last Collection – A Novel of Elsa Schiaparelli and Coco Chanel.

Fiction genre?  Ex science fiction, short story, fantasy novella, romance, drama, crime, plays, flash fiction, historical, comedy, movie script, screenplay, etc.  And how many pages long? Historical

Has this been published? If yes, what publisher and what publication date? To be published on June 25, 2019, by  Berkley.

What is the date you began writing this piece of fiction and the date when you completely finished the piece of fiction? I began writing it in the winter of 2016, and ended in the fall of 2018.

Where did you do most of your writing for this fiction work? And please describe in detail. And can you please include a photo? I like to work at home, since I use so many reference texts…a whole shelf of books that can’t be toted around unless I want to risk putting out my back.  I have a home office with lots of windows,  great light, and trees just outside my window so when I want to rest my eyes I can watch the squirrels attack the bird feeders.  When I get stuck, though, I’ll go sit in a café and work, or if it’s warm enough, go to the park and work.

What were your writing habits while writing this work- did you drink something as you wrote, listen to music, write in pen and paper, directly on laptop; specific time of day? I like to have music in the background.  For this novel, set in Paris between the wars, I listened to a lot of jazz from the 1920’s and 30’s, and the great singers – Maurice Chevalier, Edith Piaf, Josephine  Baker (Below).  I work best in the morning, when I’m fresh and the story has been simmering in my head overnight as I sleep.   I do write directly on my laptop.  I’m left-handed and my handwriting is illegible even to me!  I drink hibiscus tree or green tea.

What is the summary of this specific fiction work? I’m including some of the quotes I’ve received for my novel, since the authors were so wonderful about giving a sense of this novel.

     “Exquisitely melding world politics and high fashion, THE LAST COLLECTION is a smart, witty, heartfelt, and riveting look at the infamous rivalry between Coco Chanel (Above Left) and Elsa Schiaparelli (Above Right) set against a gripping period in history. Mackin’s powerful novel brings these characters to life and transports the reader, juxtaposing both the gaiety and tension of Paris on the brink of war. As elegant and captivating as the designs depicted in the novel, THE LAST COLLECTION is the perfect read for both historical fiction lovers and fashion aficionados. Simply stunning.”--Chanel Cleeton, USA Today bestselling author of Next Year in Havana

      “A wonderful story of two intensely creative women, their vibrant joie de vivre, and backbiting competition played out against the increasingly ominous threat of the Nazi invasion of Paris. Seamless research makes every character leap to life and kept me totally engaged from beginning to end. --Shelley Noble, New York Times bestselling author of Lighthouse Beach 

     “A vibrant portrait of two designers cut from very different cloth, Jeanne Mackin’s THE LAST COLLECTION pits bold Coco Chanel and colorful Elsa Schiaparelli against each other in a fiery feud even as the ominous clouds of World War II darken the horizon. A captivating read!” --Stephanie Marie Thornton, author of American Princess

      "As Hitler and the Nazis gather strength and the world braces for war, Elsa Schiaparelli and Coco Chanel, whose politics differ as much as their couture, wage a war of their own. Lily Sutter, the woman who finds herself in the middle of their feud, has a battle of her own as she struggles to make a new start amidst extreme grief and loss. From New York to Paris, Jeanne Mackin takes the reader on an enthralling journey, complete with such vivid descriptions of the clothing, you can practically see them on the page. Beautifully rendered and meticulously researched, THE LAST COLLECTION is a must read." --Renée Rosen, author of Park Avenue Summer

Can you give the reader just enough information for them to understand what is going on in the excerpt? The Last Collection is narrated by Lily, who has gone to Paris to visit her brother, Charlie, who is in love with Ania, who is already married.  The heartbreak of their story is set against the growing tension in France, which is on the brink of war with Germany, and the rivalry between Coco Chanel and Elsa Schiaparelli.

Why is this excerpt so emotional for you? And can you describe your own emotional experience of writing this specific excerpt? Going to a party, a ball, all dressed up and with people you love, is such an act of hope and joy, but in this case everything is about to go very wrong. Charlie and Ania and Lily are heading toward destruction, just like France is, and don’t yet know it.  This passage, for me, is about that moment when everything you want is almost within reach and you’re warm with the joy and possibility of your life.

Please include the excerpt and include page numbers as reference. The excerpt can be as short or as long as you prefer.

***

Pp 87-88

     Ania’s chauffeur drove that night, and I was sardined in the backseat with Charlie and Ania, those silly wings of my costume backdropping all three of us, like overlarge angel wings in badly painted medieval altar pieces. Charlie and Ania, sitting next to each other, pretended, for the chauffeur’s benefit, to make conversation for all three of us. I recognized the lovers’ codes, the “remember whens” and “do you thinks” that pass for conversation but are instead lovemaking with words.

     I could sense the chauffeur’s suspicion and disapproval. He hadn’t fallen for my little act with Ania: me, the inseparable friend who happened to have a brother always tagging along. He knew what was going on, he knew what the conversation really was. And I couldn’t help thinking that this chauffeur, in the employ of Ania’s husband, wasn’t as attractive as von Dincklage’s driver, that serious, unsmiling boy with the blond hair.

     The evening shone with blue—the sheen of Charlie’s lapels, the blue crystals on Ania’s dress, the sky overhead, deep-blue velvet with glittering stars. I wasn’t happy—Allen wasn’t with me—but I was beginning to remember what happiness had felt like. Even the automobile drive, which I had dreaded, wasn’t too bad. Every once in a while the road would curve and my hands would curl into white-knuckled fists, and then the road would straighten and I would be okay again. Even so, I had a sense of foreboding, as I always did in an automobile, after the accident. Ania was in a gay mood, refusing to be serious about anything, to answer any questions.

     The air was almost too soft, the temperature too perfect. The oppressive daytime heat had tempered itself into something milder, sweeter, closer to a welcome embrace than a suffocating blanket. Charlie and Ania spoke in soft murmurs. Under cover of the wrap thrown over her knees, they were holding hands again, like they had that first day, under the tea table in the Schiaparelli showroom.

     “What a night,” Ania sighed. “I’ll never forget it.”

     Charlie whispered something to her and I saw the driver’s eyes dart into the rearview mirror, checking.

     “Ania, are my wings okay? They’re not getting crushed, are they?” I asked, reminding them they weren’t alone.

     It was my first, my only, full-dress costume party. They were events planned for, and attended by, the very rich and sometimes, I suspected, the very bored or at least those who feared boredom more than any other condition. People with more money than I could imagine, dressed to kill in disguises that sometimes defied description. The worse the economy grew, and in Europe and the United States it was growing worse by the day, the fancier the balls became. It was fairy-tale time, as if truth could be ignored.

     . . . as if the reality that was Hitler could be ignored.

     When reality threatens to become unbearable, we make believe. Children do, and adults, too, except their make-believe is more expensive, in terms of either dollars or emotional cost, because reality is there, waiting for you around the next corner.

     Paris that year had already concocted a silver ball, where everyone dressed in silver and the rooms were plated in silver. A golden ball had followed; a Racine ball with everyone dressed as characters from a Racine play, the ancient regime risen from its own, moldy grave.

     It was mad, this ignoring of reality just as reality was about to turn horrific. There were so many things we should have been paying attention to, newspaper headlines, a look of fear in some people’s eyes, a restlessness like that in a herd before lightning strikes. We were the passengers on the Titanic, still hoping that the thud and shudder of the ship was just a large wave, not an iceberg.

***

Were there any deletions from this excerpt that you can share with us? And can you please include a photo of your marked up rough drafts of this excerpt. I edit on my laptop, so I don’t have a marked up draft I could share.

Other works you have published? Jeanne Mackin’s novel, The Beautiful American (New American Library), based on the life of photographer and war correspondent Lee Miller, received the 2014 CNY award for fiction.  Her other novels include A Lady of Good Family, about gilded age personality Beatrix Farrand, The Sweet By and By, about nineteenth century spiritualist Maggie Fox,  Dreams of Empire set in Napoleonic Egypt, The Queen’s War, about Eleanor of Aquitaine, and The Frenchwoman, set in revolutionary France and the Pennsylvania wilderness.  

     Jeanne Mackin is also the author of the Cornell Book of Herbs and Edible Flowers (Cornell University publications)  and co-editor of  The Book of Love (W.W. Norton.) She was the recipient of a creative writing fellowship from the American Antiquarian Society and a keynote speaker for The Dickens Fellowship. Her work in journalism won awards from the Council for the Advancement and Support of Education, in Washington, D.C. She has taught or conducted workshops in Pennsylvania, Hawaii and at Goddard College in Vermont.

       I was born  in upstate New York, in a rolling countryside of lakes and small towns. After college, a year of backpacking through Europe and living a few years in Boston, I returned to this beautiful place to pursue what I had always known would be my life’s work:  writing fiction. I can’t imagine my life without this work, without the joy of delving into that place in my head where stories take shape and then leap (well, sometimes crawl or limp!)  onto the page. I live with my husband in a farmhouse that first sheltered a family before the Civil War, and in its nooks and crannies we have found report cards from the 1930’s, a former resident’s love letters from the end of World War II , and old photos from the nineteenth century, and books, books, books left behind by many generations. This is a house that loves stories!

www.jeannemackin.com  

INSIDE THE EMOTION OF FICTION links

001   11 15 2018 Nathaniel Kaine’s

Thriller Novel

John Hunter – The Veteran

http://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/11/001-inside-emotion-of-fiction-nathaniel.html

002   11 18 2018 Ed Protzzel’s

Futuristic/Mystery/Thriller

The Antiquities Dealer 

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/11/002-inside-emotion-of-fiction-ed.html

003   11 23 2018 Janice Seagraves’s

Science Fiction Romance

Exodus Arcon

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/11/003-inside-emotion-of-fiction-exodus.html

004   11 29 2018 Christian Fennell’s

Literary Fiction Novel

The Fiddler in the Night

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/11/004-inside-emotion-of-fiction-christian.html

005  12 02 2018 Jessica Mathews’s

Adult Paranormal Romance

Death Adjacent

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/12/5-inside-emotion-of-fiction-jessica.html

006  12 04 2018 Robin Jansen’s

Literary Fiction Novel

Ruby the Indomitable

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/12/006-inside-emotion-of-fiction-robin.html

007  12 12 2018  Adair Valerez’s

Literary Fiction Novel

Scrim

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/12/007-inside-emotion-of-fiction-adair.html

008  12 17 218 Kit Frazier’s

Mystery Novel

Dead Copy

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/12/008-inside-emotion-of-fiction-kit.html

009 12 21 2019 Robert Craven’s

Noir/Spy Novel

The Road of a Thousand Tigers

http://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2018/12/009-inside-emotion-of-fiction-robert.html

010 01 13 2019 Kristine Goodfellow’s

Contemporary Romantic Fiction

The Other Twin

http://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/01/010-inside-emotion-of-fictions-other.html

011 01 17 2019 Nancy J Cohen’s

Cozy Mystery

Trimmed To Death

http://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/01/11-inside-emotion-of-fiction-nancy.html

012 01 20 2019 Charles Salzberg’s

Crime Novel

Second Story Man

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/01/12-inside-emotion-of-fiction-charles.html

013 01 23 2019 Alexis Fancher’s

Flash Fiction

His Full Attention

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/01/13-inside-emotion-of-fiction-alexis.html

014 01 27 2019 Brian L Tucker’s

Young Adult/Historical

POKEWEED:  AN ILLUSTRATED NOVELLA

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/01/14-inside-emotion-of-fiction-brian-l.html

015 01 31 2019 Robin Tidwell’s

Dystopian

Reduced

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/01/15-inside-emotion-of-ficton-reduced-by.html

016 02 07 2019 J.D. Trafford’s

Legal Fiction/Mystery

Little Boy Lost

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/02/16-inside-emotion-of-fiction-little-boy.html

017 02 08 2019 Paula Shene’s

Young Adult ScieFi/Fantasy/Romance/Adventure

My Quest Begins 

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/02/017-inside-emotion-of-fiction-my-quest.html

018 02 13 2019 Talia Carner’s

Mainstream Fiction/ Suspense/ Historical

Hotel Moscow

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/02/18-inside-emotion-of-fiction-talia.html

019 02 15 2019 Rick Robinson’s

Multidimensional Fiction

Alligator Alley

http://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/02/19-inside-emotion-of-fiction-rick.html

020 02 21 2019 LaVerne Thompson’s

Urban Fantasy

The Soul Collectors

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/02/20-inside-emotion-of-fictions-soul.html

021 02 27 2019 Marlon L Fick’s

Post-Colonialist Novel

The Nowhere Man

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/02/21-inside-emotion-of-fictions-nowhere.html

022 03 02 2019 Carol Johnson’s

Mainstream Novel

Silk And Ashes

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/03/22-inside-emotion-of-fictions-silk-and.html

023 03 06 2019 Samuel Snoek-Brown’s

Short Story Collection

There Is No Other Way to Worship Them

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/03/23-inside-emotion-of-fictions-there-is.html

024 03 08 2019 Marlin Barton’s

Short Story Collection

Pasture Art

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/03/24-inside-emotion-of-fictions-pasture.html

025 03 18 2019 Laura Hunter’s

Historical Fiction

Beloved Mother

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/03/25-inside-emotion-of-fictions-beloved.html

026 03 21 2019 Maggie Rivers’s

Romance

Magical Mistletoe

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/03/26-inside-emotion-of-fictions-magical.html

027  03 25 2019 Faith Gibson’s

Paranormal Romance

Rafael

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/03/27-inside-emotion-of-fictions-rafael-by.html

028 03 27 2019 Valerie Nieman’s

Tall Tale

To The Bones

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/03/28-inside-emotion-of-fictions-to-bones.html

029 04 04 2019 Betty Bolte’s

Paranormal Romance

Veiled Visions of Love

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/04/29-inside-emotion-of-fictions-veiled.html

030 04 05 2019  Marianne Maili’s

Tragicomedy

Lucy, go see

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/04/30-inside-emotion-of-fictions-lucy-go.html

031 04 10 2019 Gregory Erich Phillips’s

Mainstream Fiction

The Exile

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/04/31-inside-emotion-of-fictions-exile-by.html

032 04 15 2019 Jason Ament’s

Speculative Fiction

Rabid Dogs

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/04/32-inside-emotion-of-fictions-rabid.html

033 04 24 2019 Stephen P. Keirnan’s

Historical Novel

The Baker’s Secret

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/04/33-inside-emotion-of-fictions-bakers.html

034 05 01 2019 George Kramer’s

Fantasy

Arcadis: Prophecy Book

http://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/05/34-inside-emotion-of-fictions-arcadis.html

035 05 05 2019 Erika Sams’s

Adventure/Fantasy/Romance

Rose of Dance

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/05/35-inside-emotion-of-fictions-rose-of.html

036 05 07 2019 Mark Wisniewski’s

Literary Fiction

Watch Me Go

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/05/36-inside-emotion-of-fictions-watch-me.html

037 05 08 2019 Marci Baun’s

Science Fiction/Horror

The Whispering House

http://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/05/37-inside-emotion-of-fictions.html

038 05 10 2019 Suzanne M. Wolfe’s

Historical Fiction

Murder By Any Name

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/05/38-inside-emotion-of-fictions-murder-by.html

039 05 12 2019 Edward DeVito’s

Historical/Fantasy

The Woodstock Paradox

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/05/39-inside-emotion-of-fictions-woodstock.html

040 05 14 2019 Gytha Lodge’s

Literary/Crime

She Lies In Wait

https://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/05/40-inside-emotion-of-fictions-she-lies.html

041 05 16 2019 Kari Bovee’s

Historical Fiction/Mystery

Peccadillo At The Palace:  An Annie Oakley Mystery

http://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/05/41-inside-emotion-of-fictions.html

042 05 20 2019 Annie Seaton’s

Time Travel Romance

Follow Me

http://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/05/42-inside-emotion-of-fictions-follow-me.html

043 05 22 2019 Paula Rose Michelson’s

Inspirational Christian Romance

Rosa & Miguel – Love’s Legacy: Prequel to The Naomi

Chronicles

http://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/05/43-inside-emotion-of-fictions-rosa.html

044 05 24 2019 Gracie C McKeever’s

BDMS/Interracial Romance

On The Edge

http://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/05/44-inside-emotion-of-fictions-on-edge.html

045 06 03 2019 Micheal Maxwell’s

Mystery

The Soul of Cole

http://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/06/45-inside-emotion-of-fictions-soul-of.html

046 06 04 2019 Jeanne Mackin’s

Historical

The Last Collection:  A Novel of Elsa Schiaparelli and

Coco Chanel
http://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2019/06/46-inside-emotion-of-fictions-last.html

#45 Inside the Emotion of Fiction's "The Soul of Cole" by Micheal Maxwell

Chris Rice Cooper 

caccoop@aol.com

https://www.facebook.com/car.cooper.7

*The images in this specific piece are granted copyright privilege by:  Public Domain, CCSAL, GNU Free Documentation Licenses, Fair Use Under The United States Copyright Law, or given copyright privilege by the copyright holder which is identified beneath the individual photo.

**Some of the links will have to be copied and then posted in your search engine in order to pull up properly

***The CRC Blog welcomes submissions from published and unpublished fiction genre writers for INSIDE THE EMOTION OF FICTION.  Contact CRC Blog via email at caccoop@aol.com or personal Facebook messaging at https://www.facebook.com/car.cooper.7

****Micheal Maxwell’s The Soul of Cole is the forty-fifth in a never-ending series called INSIDE THE EMOTION OF FICTION where the Chris Rice Cooper Blog (CRC) focuses on one specific excerpt from a fiction genre and how that fiction writer wrote that specific excerpt.  All INSIDE THE EMOTION OF FICTION links are at the end of this piece. 

Name of fiction work? And were there other names you considered that you would like to share with us? The Soul of Cole.  The rejects were mostly in my head! Each book in the Cole Sage series has Cole’s first name in the tile. Diamonds and Cole, Cole, Fire, Cole Dust and so on. So, with each book tying the plot to the title has become more difficult.

Fiction genre?  Ex science fiction, short story, fantasy novella, romance, drama, crime, plays, flash fiction, historical, comedy, movie script, screenplay, etc.  And how many pages long?mystery/thriller/suspense/romance

Has this been published? And it is totally fine if the answer is no.   If yes, what publisher and what publication date? I am an Indie author and publish under the Maxwell Books LLC banner.

What is the date you began writing this piece of fiction and the date when you completely finished the piece of fiction? I started writing in earnest on 11/14/18. I finished it on 1/28/19. The curious thing is, I was working on another book, Cole to the Bone. I intended it to be #9. The way the story was playing out I decided it would be a lot better as the series finale. So, with about 20K words written in Bone, I changed horses, and wrote Soul of Cole.

Where did you do most of your writing for this fiction work?  And please describe in detail.  And can you please include a photo? I am blessed with a huge window in both my office and living room that look out on to the lake we are on. So that’s where this book was written.

What were your writing habits while writing this work- did you drink something as you wrote, listen to music, write in pen and paper, directly on laptop; specific time of day? If I am anything, I am a creature of habit. I always begin with a twelve chapter outline and start from there. I almost always start with an idea for the opening scene and shortly thereafter write the ending.

I always start off listening to music. Usually the Grateful Dead, or a mix of tracks with long instrumental passages. I actually have a friend who lives in Thailand that puts together mixes that run anywhere from one to four hours of long jams with the vocals removed and the solo passages melded together without a break. It has to be medium to slow tempo.

I write notes and asides on a yellow tablet. Years ago, I heard an author on TV, I’m ashamed to admit I can’t remember who, say he always carried blank three by five cards in his pocket and would jot down ideas, quotes, even make rough sketches to be used later. I have done that for years too. We do that in the car a lot. My wife jots down my babblings. LOL Got a lot of autographs that way too! Depending on location I switch between my PC and a laptop with a one terabyte travel drive.

I am not a morning person. I find I do my best work after ten in the morning and before five in the afternoon. When I am in the zone I don’t look up.

What is the summary of this specific fiction work? The book opens with a double murder of a much -loved pastor and his wife. So, right from the jump we have a who-done-it! Cole also gets involved with an Army veteran who needs help getting his Muslim wife and son to the USA from Iraq. The wheels of government move to slow for him, and he finds a different and dangerous path.

Into mix we find Cole emotionally struggling, finding himself at loose ends, lacking direction, and fearing failure. The award winning journalist finds it difficult to write fiction. Should he stay/go, everybody seem to know what he should do except Cole.

To quote Bob Dylan, (Right)

Well, the moral of the story

The moral of this song,

Is simply that one should never be

Where one does not belong.

So when you see your neighbor carryin' somethin'

Help him with his load

And don't go mistaking Paradise

For that home across the road.

Can you give the reader just enough information for them to understand what is going on in the excerpt? I think we all have been in a relationship, job, town, school, major, or situation that has tied a knot in our soul. In the scene I’ve included here, Cole has really reached the end of his tether. He is not used to losing, failing, or not calling the shots. He has held it all in to the breaking point.

Why is this excerpt so emotional for you?  And can you describe your own emotional experience of writing this specific excerpt?. This book finds Cole on the edge of his emotions, confidence, and faced with losing face. He has lost too many people he loved and cared about, and never really took time to grieve. To cut and run isn’t in his nature, and this book has him facing a third strike, personally. As they say, no good deed ever goes unpunished, and that’s where we find Cole.

For me as the writer, I could relate to his situation. It is hard for men to throw in the towel, admit they need help, cry, or let it all out. As I wrote I could feel him coming a part. As he spills his feelings it is apparent the pain goes far deeper than we expected. The people who love you, and know you best can see your hurt but often don’t know what to do. I felt Kelly’s helplessness as well.

Please include the excerpt and include page numbers as 
reference.  The excerpt can be as short or as long as you prefer. Cole leaned back from his laptop and closed the lid. Kelly didn’t speak for a long time. She watched as Cole pretended to plug in the mouse.

“It’s a nice story.” Kelly finally said.

“You hate it.”

“What’s going on Cole?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you writing this book? Or any other for that matter?” Kelly sat up and faced the desk.

“I’m a writer. It’s what I do.”

“Did. You were a newspaper man, a journalist. You wrote non-fiction, the news, your opinion and insights. You didn’t write novels.”

“So?”

“How long has it been since you quit the Chronicle?”

“I don’t-”

“Four years. Let me rephrase the question. Why are you doing this?”

“The money.”

“We don’t need the money. Fame? Limelight? A return to your former glory days?”

“I don’t need that.” Cole was lying and he prayed Kelly wasn’t seeing through his desire to write again.

“I’m worried about you. Do you realize you just read me a Harlequin Romance, fairy story, with World War Two thrown in?” Kelly was beginning to see Cole’s veneer cracking. She hit the nail on the head. He found himself living at a snail’s pace when he was used to running, going, doing, chasing a story, a lead, doing interviews and being at the very heart of the news of the day.

“I don’t know what to do with myself.”

There it was, Kelly thought. She gazed at Cole sitting in the chair at the desk and realized he was defeated. He looked old, sad, and lost. Her heart was breaking.

Kelly leaned forward. “What do you mean, sweetie?”

“I don’t know what to do with myself!” Cole eye’s flared as he looked up at Kelly. “You do all your volunteer stuff, ladies Bible studies, whatever else you do, I got nuthin’.”

“You could volunteer, the church is always looking for help with various things. There are places to help in the community.”

“That’s you Kelly. Not me. I go to church. The people there are not like me. We have nothing in common. What am I going to volunteer to do, plant daisies downtown, hand out candy at the Christmas parade? I’d kill myself.” Cole tried to sound sarcastic with a twist of humor, but the pathos of his voice could not bury the truth just beneath the surface.”

“What you’re saying is you hate it here.”

“What I’m saying is I have no one but you to talk to. As much as I love you, I need people. People with interests other than Friday Night Football at the high school, and drinking beer at the Legion Hall.” Cole was getting wound up. “I don’t give a royal rip about corn prices, the weather, or the Dallas Cowboys, or whoever it is they cheer around here. And, my gosh, other than the ribs at Big Pete’s and a sandwich at Ernie’s I haven’t had a decent meal since we moved here.

“Well thank you very much!” Kelly said indignantly.

“Not your cooking. You know what I mean. Don’t you miss real Italian, Mia Sophia’s raviolis? Kowloon’s Dim Sum in Chinatown? Korean BBQ, Rosenberg’s Deli? I’d kill about now for a Chicago style hot dog. I miss buildings more than two stories high. I miss baseball games at Wrigley Field.  I miss Mick Brennan, I miss Chris Ramos and Chuck Waddell, I miss Olajean, I miss Hanna.” Cole’s voice cracked, he looked down. “I miss the kids, and I miss my Jenny.” Cole put his hands over his face.

Kelly fell silent. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know what to say. She crossed the room and stood behind Cole. She put her hands on his shoulders.

“Don’t.”

“I had no idea you were hurting so.” Kelly spun the chair around and hugged Cole.

“I feel like a fool. I don’t know what has come over me. I have you, what else could I want?” Cole wiped his eyes.

“All the things you mentioned. I’m so sorry. Let’s go. Let’s go for a trip. Anywhere you want, a road trip. You know I’d love some Chicago deep dish Pizza, some Memphis barbecue, or maybe we should just get on a plane for Paris. Surprise the kids.”

“We have to do something.” Cole squeezed Kelly tightly.

Were there any deletions from this excerpt that you can share with us? And can you please include a photo of your marked up rough drafts of this excerpt. I write on the computer. So, I have no rough drafts. I edit the original when I finish. I start out with an outline, then a chapter by chapter draft. When that is cleaned up as best as I can, I give them to my long suffering wife, who REALLY cleans it up, and puts them in to a single document. That “proof” copy is sent to several trusted and much appreciated reader/editor/proofreaders and by then we have a publishable copy. So any errors and deletions are cast adrift into the void of the binary wasteland.

Other works you have published? I have the Cole Sage Mystery Series that will soon conclude with the publication of the tenth volume, Cole to the Bone. It was a hard decision but not wanting the series to grow stale, and having far more ideas that I will ever be able to get written, I decided to do a Seinfeld and go out on top.

      

      I also have Three Nails, and Dara and Dupree which are stand alone novels, and a new mystery series the first of which came out in November 2018 entitle Dead Beat.

The First Chapter is a collection of short stories, and the first novel I wrote. The Time Pedaler is the first in a series of Time Travel books for young adults. So, I have thirteen, soon to be fifteen published works. To quote another lyric, “the road goes on forever and the party never ends.”

Anything you would like to add? Yes about eight more hours in the day, so I could write all the books I have outlines for.

To quote, singer/songwriter John Stewart, “I never had a job where the boss wouldn’t steal the bass drum from his own brass band.” I was raised in the Central Valley town of Modesto, California. The population was a hybrid of Dust Bowl Refugees, Mexicans, Farmers, and rich people. I had a love/hate relationship with school. I loved to read, and explore people, places and things on my own. I hated the pointless curriculum (does anybody REALLY need to be able to diagram a sentence?), and for the most part the tired, old, cranky, teachers that didn’t know what to do with a kid that needed way more stimulation than they offered. As a kid of the 60s, college was a kaleidoscope of possibilities. I was in the truest sense a Renaissance man. I studied, art, film. Broadcasting, English literature, creative writing, communications, and anything that struck my fancy.

I think it would be fair to say I hate work. I could never figure out why the people in charge seemed hell bent on the destruction of what they claimed they wanted achieve. The best job I ever had was owning a small chain of used record stores. But in the 80s and 90s the government seemed to do everything they could to crush and stifle the success of small business.

At thirty-nine I became an English teacher. Ever the idealist, the machine that is California education, destroyed any possibility of teaching anything important. I was a misfit in a system filled with people who never had a real job, or any experience outside of the classroom. I was once told I was a mal-content. I wore that as a badge of honor.

To escape the soul sucking tedium of lock step guidelines and teaching to meaningless tests, I began to write. The heavens opened, the words poured out and for the first time I felt a purpose and meaning to work. I know live between the between the Sierra Nevada Mountains of California, and a lovely home on a lake in Washington State. I write daily and my wife Janet proofreads, critiques, and helps to keep me focused. I am content.

Micheal@maxwellbooks.net