Page 74 of You Had Me at Chateau
‘What’s all this?’ I ask, picking up a sheet, careful not to get ketchup on it.
‘Oh, that’s my book,’ he says nonchalantly between bites. ‘Well, parts of it.’
‘You’re actually writing it?’ I say, genuinely impressed. ‘I assumed you would have a ghostwriter doing it.’
‘No, I’m writing it,’ he says – again, so casually. ‘I studied English lit at uni, which admittedly feels like a lifetime ago. I thought I was doing a great job but my editor is on my case about it.’
Oh, boy, does that sound familiar.
‘Can I read it?’ I ask, genuinely desperate to get a peek at what he’s working on.
He hesitates for a moment but then nods.
‘Sure, if you want. But only if I can read yours,’ he says.
‘Deal,’ I say, grabbing my laptop from my bag. ‘And feel free to add things in, make it worse. Have fun with it.’
Caleb laughs.
‘Make it bad on purpose – I’m excited to try that, rather than just doing it naturally,’ he jokes.
Having already finished my breakfast – because I was too hungry to photograph it – I head for one of the armchairs, sitting on my legs, ready to dive in.
Oh, it’s a fun murder mystery set on a cruise – exactly the sort of thing I wish I could write – and I find myself getting completely absorbed. The plot is genuinely gripping, the characters are interesting, and he’s great at creating tension.
‘This is really good,’ I say, eventually looking up from the pages with no idea how much time has passed. ‘I’m genuinely impressed and sort of jealous.’
‘Thanks,’ he says, though he doesn’t look entirely convinced. ‘My editor thinks it lacks universal appeal. He says men will love it, but women will hate it.’
‘What?’ I say, frowning. ‘That’s ridiculous.’
I think about it for a second, trying to work out what Caleb’s editor could have meant, based on the chunk that I read.
‘I suppose it is a little geared towards male readers,’ I point out, chewing my lip thoughtfully. ‘It just needs a little something extra, something like…’
I think for a moment. This is exactly the sort of thing I wish I could write, it’s just that I wanted to… oh my God, I’ve got it.
‘You know what you’re missing?’ I say, smiling smugly. ‘A romance arc.’
Caleb looks dubious.
‘I’m hopeless at writing romance,’ he says. ‘I write romance about as well as you write spice.’
‘Oi,’ I reply with a laugh. ‘But, honestly, I’m serious. I’m guessing your editor wants this book to appeal to women too, so a romance arc will win over a few die-hard romance readers, and, to be honest, just having a woman edit it will help. I’m starting to realise why you suggested I write “suck a tit” – it just needs that blokey edge taking out of it.’
‘Okay,’ he says, a little hesitant but clearly willing to give it a try. ‘What do you suggest?’
‘How do you fancy working on it together for a bit?’ I suggest. ‘My reluctant speciality could be just what you need.’
‘Yeah, all right, so long as you don’t mind?’ he replies.
‘No, of course not,’ I reply. ‘This sort of thing is fun to me.’
We spend the next hour tossing ideas back and forth, and I can’t help but get more and more excited – about Caleb’s idea, not my own. Caleb listens intently, taking notes, and I can see him starting to warm up to the idea of having a love triangle running through his murder mystery.
‘You really seem into this,’ he says, looking at me with a smile.
‘I am!’ I say, laughing. ‘This is why I wanted to write a book like this. With a murder mystery, you know what you’re going to get – the murder is guaranteed. So, how do you raise the stakes, and give someone something to care about? You give them a romance to get invested in. Can I try to write you a chapter? It might help, to show you what I mean.’
