Page 38 of Out of the Cold

It didn’t make any sense to feel more a part of things here than she had in all her time in San Francisco. Maybe it was knowing the man next to her and having him smile at her like he was pleased to see her.

A pretty librarian with a cap of curly dark hair came to the front of the room and gave an introduction, telling them they were in for a real treat. A moment later, the speaker entered through a side door with a hawk on his arm. Everyone started to chatter, and a child somewhere in back shrieked with delight.

Lucy lost herself in the parade of incredible birds the speaker introduced one by one—vulture, osprey, peregrine, and finally an eagle.

At the end the speaker took questions, and then the crowd rose and started filing out.

“What did you think?” Hector asked, walking with her up the aisle.

“I’m thinking I want to incorporate a raptor handler into my next book somehow.”

He laughed. “That would be cool.”

They were in the lower lobby of the building. Some people were leaving, others were standing around in groups of two and three, talking.

Hector called out to the librarian as she crossed the lobby in front of them. “Amelia, hi.”

She smiled and came over. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Things have been busy, but I couldn’t miss this one.”

“Charlie’s always a big hit.”

“Amelia, this is Lucy Pond. She writes gorgeous historical young adult fiction, which she’ll be reading at the store in December. Lucy, Amelia is the library’s director of education.”

“Nice to meet you, Lucy,” Amelia said, smiling. “I look forward to your reading.”

“You’ve got wonderful programming. I’m looking forward to the talk on edible plants.”

“I’ve been wanting to do more programs around writing. I don’t suppose you have any interest in doing a workshop or two for us?”

Hector laughed. “If you’re not careful, Lucy, we’ll keep you so busy, you won’t have time to write that book. I’ll leave you two to talk.”

“What kind of workshop?” Lucy asked.

“I’d love to offer a fiction-writing workshop for teens. I don’t think we have enough programming for that age group, though I’ll admit they’re a hard group to pin down.”

Excitement and doubt rose simultaneously. “I haven’t ever taught before.”

“I don’t want to talk you into something you don’t want to do, but maybe you’ll think about it? You could teach them the kinds of things they don’t always learn in school. Point of view and character arcs, three-act structure, and so on. It would be free for the kids, and we’d pay you an honorarium of two thousand dollars. It’s not what you’re worth, but that’s my budget.”

“I’ve never done anything like that, but I would have loved learning about those topics when I first started writing.”

The hospital had offered writing groups for teenage patients, but that had been more about expressing their feelings than studying craft.

“Most young writers don’t learn the basic tools of fiction until they go to college. They come to the library looking for books to teach them, which is great, but it would be even better to have a person answer questions and read their work.”

“Do you think there are enough teenagers in town who would want that kind of thing?” she asked.

“I do, and I think it would be perfect for them. Living in a tourist town is a strange thing. Wealthy families come and spend money, and these kids wait on them in restaurants and stores, where they buy things locals usually can’t afford. They resent the tourists while at the same time depending on them. Which makes that resentment build.”

“And you think a writing workshop will help?”

“Anything that makes life interesting helps.”

“Okay.” A combination of nerves and excitement had her stomach fluttering. “I’ll give it some thought.”

“Excellent.” Amelia grabbed a flyer off a nearby table and handed it to her. “My contact info is on here.” She saw something across the lobby that had her frowning. “I’d better go deal with that. It was wonderful meeting you.”

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