Page 19 of Not a Strong Enough Word

Subject: Re: MS Notes

Ryan,

The bike is so much more than a symbol of Madeline growing up. It’s transportation, freedom from the confines of her situation, but there are also limitations to that freedom because it can only take her so far. It’s about fitting in with her friends who also have bikes but not quite being able to because her bike is secondhand and looks like a boy’s.

I’m, frankly, amazed you didn’t see this while you were reading. Is it possible you’re losing your touch and not your mind?

As far as what else could go, I’ll have to revisit the text and get back to you.

—S

Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but my chest swells with hope that she’s asking a question for the same reason I did: She wants me to respond. That has to be it, otherwise why would she ask something that anyone else would find cutting? It’s so similar to the way we used to tease each other—poking at each other’s insecurities, popping them open until they deflated like balloons and took up less space—that I’m sure this is her intent. She wants to goad me into a reply.

From: Ryan Whitlock

To: Scarlett Frye

Subject: Re: MS Notes

You probably won’t believe this, but of course I noticed all of that. I do think several of your other symbols accomplish the same thing, and better. The birds, for example, do this and more while simultaneously creating beautiful imagery. The clouds, too. And don’t forget the songs they sing together at the end. The bike is a wonderful symbol, but the others are gorgeous, rich, and help to create the visuals that really draw the reader in. The bike is…a bike. It’s only in one scene, whereas the others are prevalent throughout, so they’ve been woven into the text more. But I am open to other ideas.

—Ryan

A giddiness rises up within me, like the bubbles in champagne zigzagging to the top of a glass. Effervescent. Shimmery. Natural, in a way. It has only been five emails, but this back-and-forth is familiar. It’s like slipping on an old, favorite sweater. Scarlett and I started sparring the night we met and would continue to do so over the course of our relationship. It became almost a form of verbal foreplay and often ended with us in bed, exploring more ways to elicit different kinds of responses from each other. This feels so similar to that, and even though I know I shouldn’t, I’m holding out hope that it’s having the same effect on her.

Another email from her pops up in my inbox, and my excitement intensifies.

From: Scarlett Frye

To: Ryan Whitlock

Subject: Re: MS Notes

The bike is gritty. Dirty. On the ground. Everything you mentioned is ethereal and sky-bound. The bike is not meant to be pretty or create imagery. It’s meant to be tangible and real. And (again, I’m surprised I need to point this out to you), it exists in direct contrast to the birds and the clouds. A foil, if you will.

So, what I’m hearing is that I actually need to weave the bike into the book more, to make it inextricable from Madeline’s story. Would that appease you?

The contrasting symbols did not, in fact, escape me, but the bicycle felt extra. The scene in which it appeared was stilted, almost as if Scarlett had been trying too hard to include it. But if she could work it in even more, make pieces of the book grittier and, by comparison, make the other scenes even more ethereal…

My elation at communicating with Scarlett morphs into the exhilaration of solving a puzzle. Something clicks into place. It’s so satisfying—so obvious—that I can’t believe it escaped me before.

From: Ryan Whitlock

To: Scarlett Frye

Subject: Re: MS Notes

That’s brilliant. Yes. More of the bike would solve the problem. But keep the bike gritty and real; keep the birds and clouds airy and light.

Her response is almost immediate. Yet again, I dare to hope everything I’m reading between the lines of these emails has been reciprocal.

From: Scarlett Frye

To: Ryan Whitlock

Subject: Re: MS Notes

I might be rusty, but I’m not an amateur. Trust the process.