Page 51 of One Last Thing
‘You’re a famous published author. You know you’re brilliant.’
‘No, I don’t, and if I did then I wouldn’t be.’
‘Okay, that doesn’t make any sense,’ she huffs.
‘The best writers are the ones who always think there’s more to learn,’ I say, watching a woman bob by the side of the pool and gesture for her partner to join her in there. ‘The ones I admire seem to constantly be trying to better their last book, perfect their craft. They experiment, take risks, push themselves. Sometimes it pays off, sometimes it doesn’t.’ I frown as I reflect on how I haven’t taken a risk in years.The same old story.
She looks down, picking at her nail. She used to do that when she was a kid.
‘Have you really had manuscripts rejected before or are you saying that to make me feel better?’ she checks.
‘I’ve had many manuscripts rejected before, Megan,’ I tell her, unable to stop a smile spreading. ‘And thank fuck for that. If they had been published, my reputation would have been destroyed in one fell swoop. In fact—’ I pause, swallowing a lump that’s forming in my throat‘—I haven’t had a manuscript accepted in a long time. Which is why my publisher decided to cut the cord.’
Megan snaps her head up, squinting at me. ‘What?’
‘Mm,’ I say by way of confirmation. ‘I’ve been officially “dropped”, as they say. Desperate, isn’t it. I’m not sure howI’ll stand the humiliation when it gets out, but I suppose there’s always burlesque clubs and Class A drugs.’
I laugh at my joke. Megan doesn’t.
‘I’m sorry, Mum,’ she says as though she means it. ‘I know how much your career means to you.’
I’m surprised by her earnestness and worry there’s a dash of resentment in there, too. It would be understandable if there was. I quickly work to lighten the tone. ‘Oh, it’s fine. These things happen. I suppose they’re right, I’m out of touch when it comes to romance.’
‘That’s what they said?’
‘Things move on,’ I state firmly, nodding. ‘I need to evolve, too. I am getting on, that’s life. The only problem is, I only ever wanted to write romance. I don’t know how to do anything else. I’m a bit lost, actually.’
Megan suddenly looks furious, her brow furrowed, her eyes flashing. ‘You’re not too old to write romance, Mum. It’s never too late to fall in love, right?’
I blink at her. ‘Oh! Uh. No, you’re right. It’s never too late.’
‘There you go, then.’ She nods firmly as though that’s that and then a flash of curiosity crosses her expression as she stares at me. ‘What? Why are you looking at me like that?’
‘Oh, it’s just, you look like him when you’ve made up your mind about something.’
Her face relaxes. ‘I got his stubbornness.’
I turn back to look at the pool. ‘You think I should carry on, then?’
‘Yeah, I think you should,’ she says in her usual matter-of-fact tone. ‘Don’t you?’
‘Well, I have to writesomething. What about you? Are you going to find the courage to try again?’ I ask cautiously.
She snorts. ‘Mum, you know it’s got nothing to do with courage.’
‘Actually, that’s all it is,’ I maintain loftily. ‘I’ve been exactly where you are, all writers have. You have to make a choice. Are you going to fight that instinct burning inside of you because you’ve been knocked down? Or are you brave enough to admit to yourself that writing is not something you do, it’s part of who you are. It’s how you make sense of everything.’
She doesn’t say anything, processing my words with her lips pressed tightly together, her eyes on the pool.
‘I know I said this when we were camping, but to reiterate, if ever you do have another whack at it, I’m here if you want someone to read it. Someone you can trust to give you a full and honest opinion.’
She emits a burst of laughter. ‘That’s what I’d be afraid of.’
‘The opinion would come with a personal sidenote.’
‘Which would be?’
‘That I’m proud of you for trying. It takes guts,’ I say, and even though she doesn’t respond to that except to say she’s going to go for a swim, I’m glad I’ve said it. It’s the sort of thing I think we all need to hear once in a while.
