Jennifer Crusie's Blog, page 126

Lily 7 Notes

So one of the things that the Girls sent up that’s been bugging me is Vikings.

I mean, why the hell Vikings?

I remember starting with the title, Surprise Lily, and then thinking she’d pop up in different centuries like a surprise lily, mainly because I couldn’t think of any other way she’d just pop up out of nowhere. If I was going supernatural, she could time jump or walk through walls or something, but I wanted something simple and fun. This is not a book. Let’s not make playtime difficult, Crusie.

So her problem is reincarnation, but not a bunch of different time periods, and I just started riffing in that first scene. I distinctly remember thinking twelve lives and that put her back into the 800s and made me think of Pangur Ban (the poem) and that’s how Vikings came into the mix, but I don’t know how the hell they became a motif except that Lily announced they were in that first scene (“I always get the early Viking,” a line that will probably be cut).

Normally, at this point, I’d just cut the Vikings altogether, but there’s no way, they’re part of the fabric of the thing now, the Girls keep sending up more Viking stuff, I am stuck on Vikings . . . time to research.

I’ve already figured out that Lily’s memories of the 800s might just be her research knowledge kicking in from remembering information she’s read, the way old photographs trigger memories we’d lost and sometimes create memories we don’t have. I don’t know if Lily was really reincarnated or not. I’m not sure it matters. What I do know is that I don’t know enough about Vikings. I learned they bathed a lot on here from some of you. And they wore cat fur, which is somehow not the worst thing I know about them. Bastards.

The thing about research is that it’s there to support the story. We do not go down the rabbit hole of writing about Vikings, this story is not about Vikings, it’s about Lily, so what we need is what Lily knows about Vikings and how that info is impacting her life in the now of the story. One way, of course, is whatever nefariousness Seb and Uncle Louis are up to at the museum. That has to be tied to Vikings. Except they are not Vikings, they’re Celts. The Celts regularly got their asses kicked by the Vikings, I believe. Enter Fin and Bjorn.

But it’s not their book, it’s Lily’s book. Fin sees her as a Viking, at least a Viking waitress, so that might be a path to follow. And there’s definitely the Five Man Band which could be a Viking band, possibly matched by Seb, Uncle Louis, Jessica, Dorothy, and a player to be named later. And I need at least three characters who are regulars at the diner so we have more suspects to play with. Arthur is a start there.

The problem is, I am not interested in this. I’d rather just watch my diner Five Man Band goof around. The only reason I need the museum is to focus that group. So the key is to keep it simple and keep the focus on the diner. I can do that. I think.

So what I think I need now (very close to a “should,” damn it) is to get the Museum Gang in motion. There’s that Secret Societies magazine I bought, and I am contemplating a Dorothy PoV. I had such fun with Clea and Xan’s PoVs and I think Dorothy could be a nefarious amount of fun. I think she keeps a stuffed dog on her desk and calls it Toto. Chekhov’s Toto. There’s something in that dog . . .

So what do you want/need/expect now? The thing about having so much text is that it lets out a lot of possibilities. There’s a theory that your first sentence eliminates 90% (99%?) of your plot possibilities, so you can imagine what 20,000 words does to that. We’re narrowing things considerably here. If you want any sharp turns, now is the time to ask for them. No, Lily cannot end up with Bjorn, some things are not negotiable. It’s Lily and Fin, the cat lives, and something fun happens to Cheryl, possibly Arthur. Now, what else?

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This is a Good Book Thursday, May 7, 2020

Sarah Wendell has a great essay in the Washington Post on why we’re all rereading right now: our normal way of living has disappeared so we’re constantly adjusting to change. “Everything is new, so everything is exhausting.” Enter old faves. I’ve definitely been plowing through Georgette Heyer again after spending last week with Christie and Stout. I was feeling slightly guilty about it, but evidently back lists are back in demand and fan fiction (more about favorite characters) is booming, so I’m in good company. I did read a couple of new romances, but it just wasn’t the same. I need something familiar wrapped around me right now.

Are you reading or re-reading? And what?

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Working Wednesday, May 6, 2020

It’s amazing how much easier it is to work in the spring. I like winter, it just lasts too long. Spring and fall, however, just flit on by, thrilling the hell out of me. Well, I do love change. So that’s what I’m doing this week: changing my work habits, which were getting erratic. Yesterday, I didn’t wake up until 1:30 since I’d stayed up reading Heyer until the dawn. I think it was the dogs staring at me that woke me up. I could feel their unspoken thoughts: “We go out at NOON, you slovenly wench!” As I said, been reading Heyer.

So what’s new with your work this week? Is anything changing?

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Lily 7 1/2

Normally by now I’d have figured out what the hell was going on at the museum, but since this isn’t going to be a book, I can just keep noodling around. Why can’t you just noodle around for a book? Because one of the many reasons people read fiction is to get a tidier version of reality. A book that just meanders, listening to people talk, gets annoying very quickly. This stuff is starting to annoy, especially since every scene with Seb in it has the same damn dialogue–Structure Rule #47 You Cannot Arc What You Do Not Know–but I’m getting the impression that you’re reading these more as short stories than pieces of a novel, so that’s good.

Still, I am feeling the need to put some grit in the oyster, so to speak, so when a new character showed up out of nowhere, I noodled.

I have a rule about not adding new characters after the first act, or at least no characters that haven’t been introduced or foreshadowed. No idea what most of the turning points are yet because I have no idea what the damn plot is, but I like the idea of Lily and Fin ending the first act with their fall, so I’m thinking the Guy in the Black Suit has to show up before Fin gives her the glasses, lurking in the background of some of the scenes you’ve already read. Well, I knew I had to add some diner regulars, so those add-a-character rewrites were always in the cards. But as rough structure, the beginning pieces in today’s stuff happens before the end of Act One, then Lily goes to give the glasses back at the end of Act One, then the rest of this stuff is in Act Two.

See, I have a plan. Kinda. Here, have a new character. Still no plot, and none of the pieces below are complete scenes, so this stuff goes nowhere, but since it was in my brain . . .

***************

Cheryl caught Lily at the end of the dinner rush on Tuesday night. “New guy at booth one. What do you think?”

Lily looked over and saw a middle-aged man in a black suit with his back against the wall in the first booth, definitely not the usual Surprise customer. Well-dressed, moderately attractive in a stern way, sharp-featured, his hair graying at the sides, his jawline still mostly close to the bone.

“Professor?” Lily said, and then looked closer and thought, No. Professors came in all sizes and styles, but they usually did not have dead eyes. This guy looked like he’d risen from the grave. “Kind of grim.”

“Carrying, too,” Cheryl said.

Lily looked at her, wide-eyed. “He has a gun?”

“Shoulder holster.” Cheryl patted her shoulder. “He’s not going to rob us, he’s not the type.”

“Oh, well, that’s good to know,” Lily said. “How about going nuts and shooting up the place?”

“Nah,” Cheryl said. “He’s not crazy. I know crazy. He’s calm and hungry. So we feed him and he goes away.” She turned back to the kitchen. “He’s probably just a hit man, and nobody here has annoyed anybody enough to get killed.”

Lily looked at the black suit guy. “I might have. Seb’s pretty upset and his uncle is in a snit.”

“Louis?” Cheryl snorted. “Louis wouldn’t have the balls to put out a contract.”

“Seb might,” Lily said.

“We should do something about Seb,” Cheryl said, and put the black suit’s order in.

#

The next night, Fin sat down across from the black suit.

The suit regarded him calmly.

“The gun,” Fin said carefully, “is alarming the waitresses.”

“The redhead,” the suit said.

“Yes,” Fin said.

“The little blonde doesn’t appear concerned.”

“It takes a lot to knock Cheryl off her game.”

“Tell the redhead not to worry,” the suit said. “I’m not here for her.”

“If you could leave the gun at home,” Fin began, and the suit shook his head slowly. “Look–”

“Your name is Thorfin Anderson, an illustrator, presently finishing a commission for a writer named Stephen Corrigan. The man sitting with you is your brother, Bjorn, who works at the university, lecturer in literature. The little blonde is Cheryl Frey and she owns this restaurant. The redhead is her cousin, Lilyanne Frey. You come here to look at Lilyanne. None of you are part of my current plan. You are safe to go about your business. Nothing will happen to you.”

“Story of my life,” Fin said.

#

At eleven, Lily took the trash out to the dumpster, and Seb stepped out from behind it as she threw the bags in.

“We need to talk,” he said, no smiles or faux charm this time, although it was hard to see him in the dark. Then he looked past her. “What do you want?”

Lily turned and saw the guy in the black suit coming toward them out of the darkness, looking at Seb with those flat black eyes.

She stepped back, trying to think of something soothing to say so she could get out from between them.

“You are Sebastian Lewis,” the suit said. “You work at the teaching museum, under your uncle, Louis Lewis. You once worked beside Miss Frey, but since she is now on leave, there is no reason for you to talk to her. Do not annoy her again.”

Seb looked at her. “You hired a bodyguard?”

“I don’t think so,” Lily said.

“Miss Frey and I are in a relationship,” Seb said.

“No, we’re not,” Lily said.

“We could be,” Seb said, exasperated, “if you’d just listen to me.”

“No.” Lily turned back to the suit. “Thank you very much for wanting to help, but I can handle this.”

“I don’t want to help,” the suit said. “I want to talk to Sebastian Lewis.”

“Oh.” Lily looked back at Seb. “We’re not going to find his body in the Dumpster later, are we?”

“No,” the suit said.

“Well, then, I’ll just get back to work,” Lily said, and set off at a fast clip for the kitchen door.

When she got there, she looked back.

The suit was standing close to Seb, who for once was looking unsure of himself.

Hell, she thought, and went in and told Cheryl, who went out to the counter and told Fin and Bjorn–“They’re Vikings, this is what they live for”—who went out and came back to report an empty parking lot.

“Did you look in the Dumpster?” Cheryl said.

“Yes,” Bjorn said. “No body.”

“Pity,” Cheryl said and went back to work.

#

“So how is Viking sex?” Cheryl said Sunday night, when the three of them were on her couch, eating Van’s signature Four-Cheese-and-Five-Vegetables-To-Be-Named-Later pizza and ignoring Netflix.

“I’m happy,” Van said.

“It’s very good.” Lily picked up a piece of pizza.

“Really?” Cheryl said. “Better than Seb?”

“Of course,” Lily said.

“Because you used to be fairly enthusiastic about Seb.”

Lily nodded. “In the beginning,” she said around her pizza.

Van and Cheryl looked at each other and then back at Lily.

“What happened?” Van said.

Lily chewed and frowned. “After the first month, it began to dawn on me that I was mostly there as an audience.”

Van stopped chewing. “He didn’t pay attention?”

“No, he did,’ Lily said, trying to be fair. “He always cared that I was getting there. It’s just that after a while I realized that he cared because he wanted the applause, not because he wanted me satisfied. It was an ego thing.”

Van went back to her pizza. “Isn’t it always?”

“No,” Lily said. “Is it with Bjorn?”

Van looked thoughtful as she chewed. “Little bit, maybe. I think it’s a different side to entertainment.”

“Entertainment?” Cheryl said. “I’ve always found sex entertaining. Well, there were a couple of guys who closed early, but in general.”

“Bjorn’s not looking for applause, but he wants me entertained. He wants me happy.” Van took another bite. “I usually don’t laugh that much during sex, but with him . . .” She thought for a moment as she chewed “For him, sex is fun. It’s play. I mean, he gets serious at the end, but I don’t see him ever getting dark and dangerous.”

“Not a 9 ½ Weeks kind of guy, huh?” Lily said.

Cheryl frowned. “I hate that movie. Don’t leave the refrigerator door open, people, it’s bad for the appliance.”

Vanessa nodded. “Sex combined with food is probably Bjorn’s idea of paradise. Mostly there’s just no ego there. It’s amusement park sex. Enjoy the ride and laugh with me.” She tilted her head to look at them. “It’s actually really good. I’m always happier after I’ve been with him. I take all the tense stuff to his apartment, and he makes it go away without getting heavy about it. I think the laughing might be as much of a relief as the sex.” She thought about it. “No, the sex is more, but the laughing is great. I really like him.”

“That’s it?” Lily said. “Like?”

“We’ve both been through some stuff,” Van said. “We’re just looking for a clean, well-lighted place to come our brains out, so we’re both content with like.”

Lily nodded. “Fin worries about him, but he’s trying to keep his hands off.”

“Which is easier now that he’s got his hands on you,” Van said. “You haven’t said much about him.”

“There’s not a lot to say.”

“Oh,” Van said.

“No,” Lily said. “It’s good. It’s very good. Good solid sex.”

Van shook her head and picked up another piece of pizza. “Boring.”

Lily frowned. “I got tired of Seb’s big productions, the whole ‘let’s try this,’ always looking to up his game, after a while it was just exhausting. Fin is not exhausting. Fin is satisfying. And . . . safe. If I wanted anything more, he’d give it to me, but right now, I just want good, solid, head-banging sex with a guy I trust.” She picked up another piece of pizza. “I have come to the conclusion that exciting is often not good. When I was younger, exciting was . . . exciting. Now it’s just annoying. I want my pulse racing, but not because I’m anxious or tense. I want it racing because I’m with a guy who’s everything I’ve ever wanted and who gives me everything I’ve ever needed.”

“Whoa,” Van said.

“Yeah.” Lily considered what she’d just said. “I may have overstated that. It’s just hard to say ‘He’s better than exciting.’ Because he is exciting. It’s just a quiet kind of exciting. Deep exciting. Steady exciting.”

“Contradiction in terms,” Van said around her pizza.

“And yet, still true. This is really good pizza.”

“All my pizzas are really good.”

“I know,” Lily said, “but it’s important not to take any of them for granted. This is very good pizza, and we should pay attention and not take for granted that since it’s your pizza, of course it will be good.”

“Kind of like the guys,” Van said.

“Yes. They are good guys. We should not take for granted.”

Van nodded. “Good point.”

Lily looked over at Cheryl. “You have become uncharacteristically quiet.”

“I’m thinking about having sex again,” Cheryl said.

Van raised her eyebrows. “Got anybody in mind?”

Cheryl frowned. “Maybe the black suit.”

“The hired killer?”

Cheryl shook her head. “I may have jumped to a conclusion there. I think he’s the law.”

Lily sat up. “The law?”

Cheryl shrugged. “Our choices are gun nut, hired killer, and the law. He’s not paranoid or a braggart and he does not appear to be compensating for a small penis, so that leaves either a hired killer or the law. And I don’t see hired killers hanging around for three weeks, asking for the ketchup.”

“The law seems more credible,” Van agreed. “I don’t think there are that many hit men just floating around.”

“It is New Jersey,” Cheryl pointed out. “But yeah, odds are he’s law.”

“So what is he doing here?” Lily said.

“Eating dinner,” Cheryl said. “Appreciating the pie. Possibly having sex with me.”

“So he’s got a full schedule,” Van said.

“The days are just packed,” Lily said.

Cheryl looked thoughtful and then nodded. “I will have to consider him. In the meantime, give me the basics about your love lives so I know if I approve. Do the Anderson boys go down?”

“Yes,” Lily said.

“With enthusiasm,” Van said.

“Do they get the job done?”

“Absolutely,” Van said.

“I’m responsible for my own orgasm,” Lily said.

“Do you have to be?” Cheryl said.

“No. Fin’s very good at completion.”

“Are they carping, critical, or controlling?”

“Most laid-back guy I’ve ever slept with,” Van said.

“Very open-minded,” Lily said. “Sex-positive. Hung like a . . .”

“Yes?” Cheryl said.

“ . . . a well-hung person.”

“You may sleep with them,” Cheryl said grandly.

“Thanks, boss,” Van said.

“Wait’ll I tell Fin,” Lily said. “He’ll be so happy.”

Cheryl nodded. “Now all I have to do is get the law into bed.”

“It’s a two-part process,” Lily said.

“You start by telling him you’re not a creeper pervert,” Van said.

“I don’t like to lie,” Cheryl said. “Can I just tell him I’m not a creeper?”

“Sure,” Lily said. “You do you.”

#

The next evening, the guy in the black suit motioned Lily over. He was looking a little confused, but then he’d just talked to Cheryl, so not surprising.

“Yes?” Lily said, bringing the coffee pot with her.

“The little blonde waitress just told me she’s not a creeper.”

“That’s Cheryl,” Lily said. “The creeper thing is the first part of a two-part pass.”

“I see,” the black suit said. “What’s the second part?”

“She asks you if you want to have sex. I’m Lily, by the way. And you are?”

He nodded. “Arthur Mortimer. Pleased to meet you. She couldn’t have started with the second part?”

“She wants you to feel safe.”

He regarded her for a moment. “Why wouldn’t I feel safe?”

“Cheryl is a very interesting woman,” Lily said. “But she does have an edge.”

“I live on the edge,” Mortimer said, deadpan.

“Well, play your cards right and you can have sex there, too.”

“Really.” He looked back at Cheryl, now explaining mindfulness to a very confused older couple. “What kind of cards am I holding, Lily?”

“All aces, Mr. Mortimer,” Lily said. “You don’t have a heart condition, do you?”

“No.”

“Just checking. Very few of her lovers stroke out.”

“Good to know.”

Lily filled his coffee cup and went back behind the counter, leaving him looking bemused.

“What were you doing with my prey?” Cheryl said.

“Setting up your next move,” Lily said. “His name is Arthur Mortimer. Go ask if he wants to.”

“That fast?” Cheryl nodded. “I like this two-part pass thing. It’s efficient.”

Fin and Bjorn came in and Lily moved down the counter to them. “You’re late.”

“Sorry, Mom,” Bjorn said. “We had things to do.”

Lily leaned across the counter and Fin leaned, too, and she kissed him. “You can do me later,” she whispered.

“Planning on it,” Fin said. “What’s new?”

“The guy in the black suit is Arthur Mortimer, and Cheryl’s going to have sex with him.”

“Does he know?”

“Yes. She told him she wasn’t a creeper, and I tipped him that sex was next. She’ll be completing the pass shortly.”

“This diner is going to get a lot more popular once people figure out the special,” Fin said.

The post Lily 7 1/2 appeared first on Argh Ink.

Lily 7

Wow. Seven weeks we’ve been working on this. Still no clear conflict, and I have no idea what the hell Seb is up to. Except it’s about that ax.

Chekhov’s ax.

Sigh.

Here. Have some romance.

After therapy, Lily picked up Pangur and went out to the park without stopping to talk to Van or Cheryl. They’d notice, but she needed some time to think before she talked to anybody. A lot of time to think.

She sat down at the edge of the cliff at the end of the park to watch the Little Muis roll by below. It was odd, now that she knew how she died the first time, that this was still her favorite place to think. Maybe it was because it wasn’t really a cliff, just a steep hill, and the Muis wasn’t an ocean, just a little river. She could fall off, but she’d only go about five feet before she hit the slope of the hill and then she’d just roll the rest of the way. It’d be a fairly short roll, a tree would probably stop her eventually, but still . . .

Not really a cliff, she decided as Pangur settled in beside her, having scoped out this part of the park and found nothing of interest. “You getting any flashbacks from this?” she asked the cat, and he blinked up at her, lazy in the sun, so evidently not.

The warmth of the sun was soothing, and the wash of the little river was, too, and Lily sank into the peace of the moment and just sat there for a while. After an hour, Pangur grew restless, and she started thinking about going. Her shift at the diner started at four, and Van would want to know about therapy, and Cheryl would be there, harassing her about that stupid cap, and Fin . . .

She had to do something about Fin. Her life had too much garbage in it right now to deal with a controlling Viking who was really sweet . . . and really attractive. Maybe–

“I knew you’d show up here sooner or later,” Seb said from behind her, and Lily jerked away and almost fell off the cliff. He grabbed her arm and smiled at her, that I-know-I’m-hot-and-you-know-it-too smile that now just made her want to smack him. “Easy there. I just want to talk.”

At least he wasn’t a Viking.

She shrugged off his hand, and Seb sat down beside her, and she spared another thought for Fin, smiling at her over the counter, looking happy to see her, not grabbing at her–

I would prefer a Viking.

She scooted down a couple of feet away from him. “Leave.”

“I just need some answers,” Seb said, leaning closer.

Lily moved down another couple of feet, annoying Pangur. “Leave now.”

“It’s a free park–” Seb began, and then a shadow fell over him and Lily looked up and saw Fin.

“Ice cream,” he said, holding out a glass sundae dish from the diner, and Lily took it while he moved between her and Seb.

“Thank you,” she said, and pulled the spoon out from where Van had embedded in the ice cream.

“I walked fast,” Fin said, “but the hot fudge is cool anyway.”

“It does that,” Lily said. “It’s the ice cream, that whole hot and cold opposites thing that makes this so wonderful.”

Fin nodded and sat down between her and Seb, keeping a respectful distance.

“Well, cold’s winning.”

Lily shook her head. “Yeah, but scoop underneath. Van puts most of the chocolate under the ice cream. It’s hot down there.” She blinked at him. “You know. Under the cold.”

“Uh huh.” Fin scooped up a lot of ice cream and ate it.

Pangur growled softly to remind them that he was there.

“Do you mind?” Seb said to Fin. “We were talking.”

“No, we weren’t,” Lily said to Seb. “He stays, you go. Or Pangur leaps.”

Pangur growled on cue and moved between Lily and Fin, moving his head back and forth, eyeing both sundaes.

“This is a really nice place.” Fin spooned up more ice cream and chocolate. “You come here often?”

Lily stifled a laugh. “That line is so old it creaks.”

“But it still works. You laughed.”

Seb snorted his contempt.

Lily looked up at Fin, back lit by the sun, grateful he was there, even if he was mostly snarfing ice cream at the speed of light. He looked a little tense. Maybe because of Seb. “Van sent you out, did she?”

“You were late coming back from therapy. She said this is where you go to think. Thinking is better with ice cream. And she promised me free food if I brought this to you.” He smiled down at her, his eyes crinkled behind his glasses. “You should know I didn’t pay for these. Don’t give me credit for that.”

“Your credit is just fine.” Lily scooped more ice cream. Lovely full fat stuff, Van wouldn’t let anything else in the diner. “It is a beautiful day.”

He was sitting a couple of feet from her, exactly in the middle between her and Seb, and that felt wrong. He should be closer. Why would I want to be closer to a Viking on a cliff? she thought, but he was Fin, and she trusted him, and Pangur was curled up next to him, rubbing his head on Fin’s thigh, and the sun was shining, and what the hell.

She moved down a couple of feet to be next to him. “This was very nice of you.”

“I’m a very nice guy,” Fin said, smiling down at her. Then he ate more ice cream.

“Oh, cut me a break,” Seb said. “I’m sure you’re a nice guy. We were having a conversation. Leave.”

“No,” Fin said and ate more ice cream. He was really plowing through it.

He’s tense about something. He could take Seb with one hand tied behind him, so it wasn’t that.

“This is about business. I just need to know . . .” Seb began, and then looked at Fin. “This is private. I know you think you’re being the big hero, protecting her, but it’s not necessary.”

“She can protect herself,” Fin said. “I just brought the ice cream.”

“Look, we have things we need to discuss. Leave.”

“No.” Fin’s spoon scraped the bottom of the glass. He dug up the last of the melted ice cream soup and put the spoon on the grass for Pangur.

Pangur purred like an expensive engine and went to town on the dregs.

“Lily,” Seb said, and she shook her head.

“Seb, I don’t know anything. I don’t even know why you went for me and tried to kill me–”

“I did not–”

Fin put his glass down on the grass, and Pangur leaped on it.

Lily spoke over Seb. “—but you are no longer my problem, I have other problems, so I’m letting you go. Away. Go away. Go far away and never come back.”

“I did not try to kill you,” Seb said. “Damn it, I—”

Fin said, “Son, you are done here. Go.”

Pangur got his head stuck in the sundae glass.

“It’s a free park,” Seb snapped.

“Yes, it is. How far do you think you’ll roll free before you hit a tree when I throw you off this ledge?” He looked down at Lily. “Sorry. But he’s annoying me. That was for me, not you. You’ll have to save yourself.”

She grinned at him. “I can do that.”

“Oh, spare me the mushy stuff,” Seb said.

Fin smiled back at Lily. “The important thing, Frey, is that I know you can do that.” Then he reached down and pulled the sundae glass off Pangur’s head. “Pace yourself, cat.”

Lily stood up. “I need to get back to the diner. Can I get an escort?”

“Yes,” Seb said, standing up.

“Not you,” Lily said, and Pangur moved in front of her, the fur on his head spiky with chocolate as he hissed.

Fin picked up his spoon, now Pangur-clean, and his sundae glass, now with cat hair, and stood up, and she couldn’t see Seb at all.

“You can’t keep ignoring me, Lily,” Seb said from behind the Viking.

“I really will get that restraining order if you try to see me again. I don’t know anything about anything you’re trying to hide–”

“I’m not trying to hide anything,” Seb said, his face twisted the way it had the day he’d lunged for her, and she felt Fin tense beside her, and then Seb shook his head, and walked away.

“He’s hiding something,” Fin said, watching him go.

“Yes,” Lily said.

He looked down at her. “And you know what it is.”

Lily sighed. “No, but I could probably find out. I’m trying to get it all straight in my head, but there are so many loose ends, and I’ve got bigger problems. Like I think I’m losing my mind.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“No.”

Fin pointed toward the path. “So how did Pangur get his name?”

“That’s always been his name,” Lily said and told him all about the Pangur poem and the times they’d died together as they walked back to the diner.

When they got there, he said, “If you decide you want to look into the museum thing, let me help. And Bjorn. Bjorn is very intelligent, he just acts like a doofus. You shouldn’t be investigating that alone, not because you can’t defend yourself, but because many brains are better than one. Please.”

Lily smiled at him. “You are a good, true friend.”

“About that,” Fin began, and then Cheryl opened the door to the diner and said, “Lilyanne Frey, you are late,” and Lily escaped inside, not sure exactly what Fin had intended to say next, and not sure she wanted to find out. Simple, she told herself, keep things simple.

“We sent Fin because we were worried about you being out there alone,” Cheryl said. “Take the cleaver next time.”

“I had a Viking and a cat,” Lily said. “I was fine.”

#

Time passes. I don’t know how much time. Some.

#

Fin finished the last drawing of the illumination series, and considered it. He should have been relieved, a month’s work finished and it was good. The client had wondered about the red-headed woman in some of the margins, but he’d liked her, so that was okay.

Fin liked her, too.

He put on his running shoes and went to the connecting door to his brother’s apartment to ask if he wanted to go and stopped when he heard Bjorn laughing on the other side. When a woman’s voice answered, laughing, too, he thought, Violet, damn it, knocked once, and opened the door, praying he was not going to see his brother stoned.

Bjorn was in bed, naked and tangled in his sheets.

And so was Vanessa.

“Oh,” Fin said.

Bjorn sat up to block his view. “I thought you were going to lock that door,” he said, his voice on edge.

“Doing that now.” Fin closed the door and locked it, hoping Bjorn could hear the click as the bolt went home.

When did that happen? he thought, but he was so grateful Bjorn didn’t have his arms around Vi, he didn’t care.

Although actually, he did care: Vanessa was a huge improvement in Bjorn’s life. She was a good person, she’d keep him fed and—judging by the brief view he’d just gotten—warm, and Bjorn would be perfectly happy to eat at the diner three times a day now.

There was no downside. Everything was good.

Oh, god, I want Lily.

He needed to run. After that a cold shower. And after that . . .

I may need help with this, he thought, and went out to hit the street.

#

At four, Bjorn knocked on the connecting door.

Vanessa started her shift, Fin thought, which meant Lily was at the diner, too. “Come on in,” he called and then remembered he’d locked the door. “Hold on.”

When he’d thrown the bolt and opened the door, Bjorn was standing there, not smiling.

“I am really, really sorry,” Fin said. “That was inexcusable.”

“You opened that door because you thought I was with Vi,” Bjorn said.

Fin winced. “Truly sorry–”

Bjorn walked past him, pulled one of the arm chairs around and sat down. “Listen to me, very carefully. Vi and I are done. I cannot save her. The only way to save her is to be with her 24/7 and watch her so she can’t get to the pills. And that will not save her because she’ll find a way. There is always a way. She’s going to have to save herself, and she doesn’t want to. I will not get sucked back into using because of Vi. I told her that. She’s not happy, but she believes me. We’re done. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Fin sat down across from him. “I will not interfere again.”

Bjorn looked at him as if he didn’t believe him. “The one thing I learned in rehab is that you cannot save people. People have to save themselves.”

We saved you, Fin thought, and Bjorn shook his head as if he’d said it out loud.

“I know you think you saved me, getting me to rehab, the whole family ganging up on me, but if I hadn’t been ready for it, I’d been out of there the first day. I saved me.”

“Okay,” Fin said. “But you had help. That makes a difference.”

“That made a big difference. But help is not saving, it’s help. It’s support, it’s not control. It is not fixing anybody, it is not being somebody’s daddy.”

Fin winced again.

“I need a brother, not a keeper,” Bjorn said.

“Understood,” Fin said, and when Bjorn looked skeptical, he added, “No, I really do understand. If you need help, you’ll ask for it. Right?”

“Yes, I will. And you should, too. That goes both ways. We help each other. Brothers. Equals. You are not–”

“Got it.” What could I need help with . . .

Oh, yeah. That.

“Okay,” Fin said. “Good. So I could use some advice here . . . . Exactly how did you and Vanessa . . . hook up?”

Bjorn frowned at him. “What do you mean? We did it the usual way. We took off our clothes–”

“No,” Fin said. “I mean, how did you . . . become a couple.” He knew it sounded lame even as he said it. “Basically, how did you get from there to here?”

Bjorn grinned at him, relaxing now. “My older brother is asking me for sex advice. This is a moment to remember.”

“I am not asking you for sex advice,” Fin said. “Once we get to the sex, I know what I’m doing. It’s the getting to the sex . . .”

“You don’t know how to seduce a woman?”

“Yes, I know how . . .” Fin stopped. “I don’t think I’ve ever seduced anybody. We just get to know each other and things take their course.”

“That sounds like the slow way,” Bjorn said.

“Fine. What’s the fast way?”

“It’s a two-part process.” Bjorn leaned back, frowning in mock-seriousness as he put the tips of his fingers together in professor mode, clearly relieved the kicking-his-brother-in-the-ass part of the conversation was over. “First, you have to let them know you’re not a creeper pervert.”

“Okay,” Fin said. “I’m pretty sure Lily already knows that.”

“Oh, yeah.” Bjorn nodded. “You’re good there.”

“How the hell did Vanessa know? You’d never even spoken.”

“We spoke,” Bjorn said. “We speak a lot. Your eyes are just full of Lily so you don’t notice. But in the beginning, I just told her.”

“You said ‘I’m not a creeper pervert.’”

“Yes.”

Fin shook his head. “And she said . . . ?”

“‘That’s exactly what a creeper pervert would say.’”

“And you saw that as a good move.”

“An opening move,” Bjorn said. “I told her she had to give me a chance to prove it, and we should go to the movies so she could see how respectful I was.”

“And she fell for that.”

“She said free movies were always good.”

“This was really the first conversation you had with her?”

“Yeah. I mean we’d had a couple of short exchanges about butter, but that was the first non-food conversation.” Bjorn frowned at him. “I don’t see the problem here. Lily trusts you.”

“I’m still back at the movies, where you’re not making a pass at Van in the dark.”

“Oh, I made a pass. She’d have been insulted if I hadn’t. I did the yawn trick, you know.” He yawned and stretched his arm around an imaginary Vanessa next to him. “She laughed because it was so lame. Once you get them laughing, you’re gold.”

Fin shook his head. “I had no idea you’d put so much thought into this.”

“No thought, really,” Bjorn said. “It just comes natural.”

“Okay, she knows you’re not a creeper pervert. What’s part two?”

“I say, ‘Want to have sex with me?’”

“What?”

Bjorn spread his hands out. “What? That’s the goal, right? Find out if you’re going to get it.”

Fin shook his head. “Don’t you get turned down a lot?”

“No,” Bjorn said. “If she knows I’m not a creeper and she likes me well enough to go out with me, then it’s in her mind, too. If she doesn’t want to, she says no. It’s no big deal.”

“I think some women aren’t that . . . reductive.”

“Yes,” Bjorn said. “But they are not my type.” He frowned at Fin. “Your problem is that I-have-to-take-care-of-the-little-woman thing. You think sex is somehow exploiting her. But she’s an adult who knows what she wants, too. Actually, the women I like best are the ones who ask me first, but it doesn’t always work that way.”

“You don’t think a woman has a lot more to risk from having sex than a man does?”

“Of course, she does, that’s why I always ask if she wants to, never assume anything, and wear a condom. But that doesn’t mean that she doesn’t show up with condoms, too. She’s an adult, she doesn’t need me assuming she wants sex, but she also doesn’t need me assuming that she’s too helpless to protect herself. It’s just basic human decency to take care of each other, but it’s not the man’s job to protect the woman.” He frowned as he thought about it. “I never gave this much thought, but it’s people’s jobs to protect people. If one of you insists on doing all the protecting it’s . . .”

“Creepy,” Fin said. “You’re giving me a headache.”

Bjorn leaned forward to make his point. “You’re making this too complicated. You like Lily. Lily likes you. You’re both consenting adults, moving fast into middle age–”

“Hey,” Fin said.

“—so if you would like to have sex before you reach middle age, you should suggest it to her.”

“I can’t,” Fin said.

Bjorn stood up. “I will come visit you in the old folk’s home where you will still be gazing hopelessly into each other’s eyes. In the meantime, I have a class to teach. You just sit here, all by yourself, contemplating your lonely, tragic future.”

“Thank you for all your help,” Fin said.

Bjorn sighed. “Stop saving people, Fin. They don’t appreciate it. While you’re protecting Lily from sex with you, she’d probably like to have some. It’s . . . arrogant of you.”

“I’m an asshole because I’m not making a pass?”

“Yes.”

“Food for thought,” Fin said, glaring at him.

“I’m leaving you to think about your lack of sin now,” Bjorn said and went, shaking his head.

Fin stared at the ceiling thinking vile thoughts about his brother until he was calm enough to look at things logically. The worst thing about Bjorn, he decided, was that he was right. He and Lily knew each other well enough to know what they wanted. Okay, asking her if she wanted to have sex was probably not in the cards, but he could ask her to the movies. Try the yawn trick.

My grandpa probably used the yawn trick.

Possibly he was here today because of the yawn trick.

There was a reason the classics were the classics.

What he had to do was figure out a way to say “I’m serious about this, do you wanna?” without actually saying, “I’m serious about this, do you wanna?”

Maybe he could do a drawing on the next specials menu. A Viking asking a waitress to come to bed.

Which Cheryl would find and do dramatic readings of to the entire diner.

Okay, something a little more subtle. Something that said, “I know you and I love you and I want you” without saying “I know you and I love you and I want you” out loud.

Something that she’d find irresistible. So she’d find him irresistible.

Something . . . Lily.

I can do this, he thought, and went to find something for Lily.

#

They were slammed during the dinner hour, so Lily didn’t have much time to talk to Fin at first, and he seemed distracted anyway, which was a worry. Then when business had died down and he’d pushed his empty pie plate away, he’d leaned across the counter and she’d leaned in, too, in part because she wanted to hear him and in part because it was nice having him close. Just a kiss away, she thought and squelched the desire to plant one on him.

“Did you know Van and Bjorn were a thing?” he said.

“What do you mean, a thing?” Lily blinked, confused now. “They’re not a thing. She gives extra butter to anybody who asks.”

“Not butter. I opened the door to his room this afternoon and she was there.”

“Huh,” Lily said. “Maybe she brought him lunch. Although she’s never delivered to anybody else.”

“They were naked.”

“Oh.” Lily pulled back. “So not lunch.”

“Depending on how you define ‘lunch’, no.”

“Wow.” Lily looked back at the kitchen. “So really not our business.”

“No,” Fin said. “Not our business.”

“But still important to know.”

“Yes.”

Lily looked back at him. “Don’t tell Cheryl.”

“I’m not telling anybody but you.” He shook his head. “I wouldn’t have said anything to you, but I was . . . surprised.”

“Hell, yes,” Lily said.

“Don’t tell Cheryl what?” Cheryl said from behind her.

Fin jerked back. “Where did you come from?”

“Table nine,” Cheryl said. “Don’t tell me what?”

“How did you hear us at Table Nine?” Fin said, sounding annoyed.

“She didn’t, she reads lips,” Lily said. “I should have checked to see where she was.”

“Don’t tell me what?” Cheryl said.

“Okay,” Lily said to her. “But don’t harass Van about this. She’s sleeping with Bjorn. At least once anyway.”

“Oh, they’ve been at that for weeks,” Cheryl said, and started to go down the counter.

Lily caught her arm. “Wait. She told you . . .”

“No,” Cheryl said. “Of course not. Why would she tell me? I could tell, though. I’m a keen judge of character.”

“They were never together,” Lily said.

Cheryl snorted and moved off.

“God, I’m a lousy friend,” Lily said. “I’ve been so caught up in my own crazy that I didn’t see hers.”

“I don’t think sleeping with Bjorn is crazy,” Fin said. “They seemed pretty happy. I mean from the little I saw. They were laughing. I’m all for it.”

“I am, too,” Lily said. “I just missed the friend part. She should have been discussing this with me, figuring out when he’d make his move. We missed the fun part. I don’t even know when he made his move.”

“It’s a two-part pass,” Fin said and grinned, and Lily put her hands on her hips.

“This is not funny, this is serious.” Then she grinned, too. “Okay, tell me the funny.”

“First part, he tells her he’s not a creeper pervert.”

Lily’s grin widened. “That’s exactly what a creeper pervert would say.”

“That’s what Van said, too, but evidently Bjorn is more convincing than I am.”

“And the second part?”

“He says, ‘Do you wanna?’”

Lily blinked. “That’s it?” She shook her head. “I wouldn’t think Van would go for that.”

‘He took her to the movies first. Did the yawn trick.”

Lily started to laugh. “You know, that would do it. Bjorn and the yawn trick would be irresistible, especially for Van. She has a highly developed sense of humor.” She smiled at him. “You know, this makes me really happy. People should be warm at night. Good for them.”

Fin got a funny look on his face and stood up to go. “I agree. One more thing.”

“Yes?” Lily said, not sure why his face had changed.

He met her eyes. “I am not a creeper pervert.”

Lily blinked for a good two seconds. “Good to know,” she said and went back to the kitchen fast before he could say anything else. Inside, she stood there thinking, He just made a pass at me.

The first part of a two-part pass, but still . . .

“You okay?” Van said.

“Fin just made half a pass at me.”

“Half a pass?” Van stopped, spatula in hand. “When are you expecting completion?”

“I have no idea. Or if I’m going to catch it or drop it.” Lily focused on her. “Congratulations on sleeping with Bjorn.”

Van winced. “Sorry. I was going to tell you about that, but aside from ‘I’ve seen Bjorn naked and it is good,’ there wasn’t much to say.”

Lily nodded. “Is it serious?”

“No,” Van said.

“How did this happen?”

“Remember the pumpkin pie? He came back to the kitchen and said he wasn’t a pervert and he thought I might bring his heart back to life and then he asked me to the movies.”

“And did the yawn trick.”

Van grinned. “It was very meta. He knew the yawn trick was lame and that’s why he did it, and I knew he knew the yawn trick was lame, and he knew I knew that he knew, so I knew he was doing it to make me laugh, and I had to laugh, and he had me. Fortunately, the yawn trick is not the only thing he’s adept at.”

“Fin just told me he’s not a creeper pervert.”

“I know Bjorn’s not a creeper pervert, he told me,” Van said patiently.

“No,” Lily said, “Not Bjorn. Fin just told me that he, Fin, is not a creeper pervert.”

“Oh,” Van said. “Half a pass.”

Lily nodded.

Van shrugged. “If he tries the yawn trick across the counter, go for it.”

Cheryl came in. “The Viking is gone but he left something for you and I want to know what it is so we should go look now.”

“Oooooh,” Van said. “The pass thickens.”

Lily went back to Fin’s place across from the pie safe. There was the usual five bucks, but this time it was stuck in a glasses case.

“He got you glasses?” Van said. “That’s . . . an approach, I guess.”

Lily opened the case.

The glasses were real, not bargain stuff, glass lenses and beautiful heavy frames, catseye, bright red on the bottom, the top black wood with real silver filigree, a pattern almost like illuminated vines on a manuscript.

“Wow,” Cheryl said. “That’s a good tip.”

“You’re gonna have to sleep with him,” Van said, but she was laughing.

Lily put the glasses on. They were her number, too.

Underneath, on the specials list, was the drawing of the waitress again, this time in cats-eye glasses, a large cat at her feet, an axe in her hand, standing on a shield that said, “Cave Liliam.”

A waitress not to be messed with. A waitress who could protect herself. A Viking waitress.

“Well, there it is,” Van said, reading over her shoulder. “He knows you. Do you wanna?”

“Those glasses cost a mint,” Cheryl said, approval strong in her voice.

Lily took off the glasses. “I have to go,” she said, and headed for the door, glasses in hand.

#

Lily banged on the door to Fin’s studio and then turned the knob, and when it opened, walked in without waiting.

He swung around from his drawing table, looking as calm as ever behind his glasses.

Lily scowled at him. “I need to talk to you.”

He put down his pen.

“When you said you weren’t a creeper pervert, you knew I already knew that. So that was half a pass.”

Fin nodded. “Yes.”

“And then there was this.” Lily held up the glasses, her hand shaking a little. “This. This is not a tip. This is . . . courting.”

Fin nodded. “Yes.”

“What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Throw them out?”

Lily gaped at him. “Throw them out? Throw them out? They’re gorgeous.”

“So are you.”

“No, I’m not.” Lily threw up her hands, exasperated, holding onto the glasses for dear life. “See, that’s not a compliment because it’s not true. I fully realize I am attractive, but nobody turns to look at me on the street–”

“I do.”

“—so the whole gorgeous thing is just you being . . .” She sputtered to a stop, outraged and confused.

“A Viking?” Fin guessed.

“Stop it. I’m serious.”

“So am I.” He looked at her with that steady patience that at the moment was just exasperating as all hell. “I come into the diner and you’re there all flushed and rosy in that pink uniform, and you’re smart and funny while you pour my coffee—I hate coffee by the way, but I like the way you pour—and you feed me, which is always good, but mostly you’re just Lily and you’re wonderful.” He smiled at her. “Pretty simple, really. I want you.”

“Uh.” Lily swallowed, trying to get some air. It was really warm in his apartment. She was really warm. Damn it. I want you, too. Unfortunately, I am nuts, so this isn’t a good time. “It is not simple.”

“If you want me to stop coming in, I will,” Fin said.

“Oh.” No, don’t stop—

“Do you want me to stop coming in?”

Lily swallowed again. “Well . . .”

“Yes or no, Lily.”

Bastard. Fucking confident Viking bastard.

“No. No, I do not want you to stop coming in. I would . . . miss you. A lot.” There. There it was. Just hell. “But the expensive glasses–”

He stood up and she remembered how big he was. Maybe he’s quiet so people won’t get freaked out about how big he is, she thought. Maybe he’s just a really good guy. Maybe—

He’d taken a step toward her, and then another, and he was right in front of her now, and her heart was beating like mad, and she leaned forward and put her head on his chest. “I don’t know how to deal with this.”

And then his arms went around her, and he said, “I do,” and she lifted her head to see if he was laughing, and he bent and kissed her, very gently, and she felt her breath go as she grabbed onto his shirt and kissed him back as if her life depended on it.

Maybe it does, she thought, dizzy with the heat and the taste of his mouth and dizzier because it was Fin. He’s a Viking and he’s destroying me, maybe it does.

Then he was looking down at her, his eyes dark on her, and when she’d gulped in enough air to speak, she said, “I don’t know what’s next.”

He had his arms around her, and that was really good, and he tightened them, and that was better, and then he said, “Well, how was the kiss?”

“Really good,” she said into his chest. “Really, really, really, really good. We could do that again–”

He laced his fingers in her hair and pulled her head back and caught her mouth and kissed her hard this time, pulling her in to all that good muscle and heat, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and went up on her toes to get closer, to fit better, as his hands slid down her back, and she shuddered against him.

When he broke the kiss, she said, “I’m trying to be practical here,” but her voice was shaking, so she didn’t have much credibility. “I need to be careful.”

“Okay,” Fin said, not letting go, his voice a little shaky, too. He took a deep breath. “There’s always the three-date rule.”

“Three dates?” Lily tried to pull back, but he was holding on, and that felt great, so she leaned into him again. “Three dates?”

“I have been thinking about getting that damn apron off you for a month,” Fin said, his hands sliding up her back. “I can wait three dates. Or did you mean longer? I mean I can wait longer but–”

“I can’t,” Lily said, and Fin said, “Oh, thank god,” and bent to kiss her again.

“Damn Viking.” Lily pushed him away, breathless, handed him the glasses so they wouldn’t get broken, and took off her apron.

Then she put her arms around him and felt his breath kick up, felt him tremble against her, felt all that good heat wash over her and make her so dizzy that she held on to him tighter, and there was really nothing left to do but fall.

Her last coherent thought was, At least I’m taking him with me.

The post Lily 7 appeared first on Argh Ink.

Happiness is Old Movies

I went through my movie collection and started watching things I hadn’t seen in years. Did you know While You Were Sleeping was filmed twenty-five years ago? Big Trouble in Little China, thirty four years ago? Real Genius, thirty-five years ago? Ghostbusters, thirty-six years ago? (Some of those actors–Sandra Bullock–must have portraits in their closets. Others, not so much.). Still, the movies we love are ageless, so watching the old ones is a good break from the current reality. I mean, not Schindler’s List, for god’s sake, (twenty-three years ago), but certainly the Brendan Fraser Mummy (twenty-one years ago) or His Girl Friday (eighty years ago) or can lift you up.

What feel-good-from-the-past-before-world-went-nuts movie do you recommend? (NO TRAGEDIES. Jeez.)

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Cherry Saturday, May 2, 2020

It’s Naked Gardening Day. Again. I do think, even with social distancing, this isn’t going to work for most of us, but good luck to those of you brave enough to go for it.

Maybe I’ll put my basil plant in the shower. Multi-tasking.

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Lily 6 Notes

So remember that brilliant idea (really more of a realization) I had going to McD’s for a Big Mac? It’s this:

Lily has a Five Man Band: Lily, Fin, Bjorn, Van, and Cheryl.

(For those of you who aren’t familiar with the Five Man Band concept, it’s on TV Tropes, but

WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING

That site is a trap, you will be drawn into its infinite links and it will take you hours to escape. I mean, you’ll have a really good time, but the damn thing will suck out your brains and steal a huge chunk of your life. You have been warned.

I love this illustration but I cannot find the artist to give credit; it’s on the TV Tropes 5 Man Band page.

The five man band is the Leader, the Lancer, the Big Guy, the Smart Guy, and the Chick. Yes, it’s sexist as hell, but there are no gender requirements, so maybe think of it as the Leader, the Lancer, the Big Person, the Smart Person, and the Person People Like to Look At Who Also Provides the Heart of the Story. Or not. Another Five Man Band I really love is the Leverage Band: Mastermind, Grifter, Hitter, Hacker, and Thief.Those characters also fit the Five Man Band roster as long as you count as a Chick a woman who is also a batshit insane master thief. Calling Parker a Chick is a crime against characterization.

But I digress.

Lily has to be the leader, she’s our protagonist. She’s also the center of the action, she has the reincarnation memories and the knowledge of the museum, and she’s the person that links the five together.

Pretty sure that makes Fin the Lancer, since he balances her–calm to her upheaval, linear to her patterned thinking, physical to her mental, male to her female, etc. Normally, he’d be the leader, saving Lily, but one of his arcs in this is to step to the side and provide support without dominating. He’s gonna have to practice that.

That leaves Bjorn for the Big Guy, which works; although I don’t know how many people he’ll be hitting, he’s a pretty easy-going guy and I’m not planning a lot of violence for this story. I think his size alone makes him threatening, especially when he’s with Fin. He’s also a lot simpler in his outlook on life, not stupid by any means, but he doesn’t let himself get distracted by gray areas.

Smart Guy has to be Vanessa; I have to get Vanessa on the page more, although I already know she has hidden depths and there’s something big going on behind all these scenes.

That leaves Cheryl for the Chick, which I love a lot.

Somebody had said in the comments that she wanted to see the museum, which is important and a good idea, but I’m much happier in the diner, and then it occurred to me that my characters were all much happier in the diner, too, that there was no pressing need for them to go investigating the museum mess, it was not their problem. At this point, Lily’s not even sure she wants her job back because she hates Seb and Louis and she wants to strangle Jessica, plus she’s eating pie and trying not to flirt with Fin full time now and she’d have to make that part-time if she went back to the museum. Fin doesn’t care about the museum as long Lily’s happy. Bjorn and Vanessa and Cheryl never think about the museum at all.

But if the museum comes to the diner in some way, if if it encroaches on and threatens their turf, then they’ll have to form a band to defend it. So I’ll have to figure out that happens because I think that would be fun to write, not to mention tremendously crunchy. (No, I don’t know how that happens, how many times do I have to say DISCOVERY DRAFT?)

I definitely want to see Cheryl and Louis meet again. (They were a thing twenty-five years ago.)

Here’s Louis now:

And here’s Cheryl, remembering Louis:

***

“We used to role play in the exhibits,” Cheryl said. “Like I was the pirate queen—I sewed skulls and crossbones on this great black bra and pantie set I had, one on each boob and one at the crotch–and he was my naked captive. I used to poke him with a sword and he’d say, ‘Stop that, that’s really annoying,’ and I’d say, ‘Now you know how I feel.’ It didn’t last. He had no imagination.”

Lily tried to blank out the mind picture of Cheryl dressed as a pirate queen from Victoria’s Secret stabbing a naked Louis with a phallic sword, but it persisted.

“Brain bleach,” Fin said in her ear.

“We never did anything in the Viking exhibit,” Cheryl said. “Missed opportunity.”

“So we can walk there safely,” Bjorn said, cheerful as ever. “Good to know.”

***

If it helps, here’s Louis when he was dating Cheryl, twenty-five years earlier:

This will obviously take much more musing. I might even have to get back in the car again and drive some more. But just the thought of them all in the diner kitchen after closing, discussing how to kneecap the museum people, Bjorn raiding the fridge and Cheryl getting sidetracked by her latest obsession (I think it’s going to be mindfulness), makes me happy. I have no idea how that would fit in the large scheme of things, but I don’t have to know, this isn’t a book. It’s just something to keep our minds off the weirdness that is reality at the moment. (Do NOT inject bleach into your bodies. That would be bad no matter what the President says. Jesus.).

I do wonder how much this is damaging my credibility as a writer. I have visions of people saying, “Did you see what Jenny Crusie is doing on her blog? Turns out she has no fucking idea of how to write a book, she just makes up stuff. No wonder it takes her years.”

Oh, well.

Five Man Band. SUCH a good idea.

So what do you want/need/expect next? I’ve got over four thousand words set to post on Monday (sorry about being late this week) which I will noodle around with over the weekend, but it’s all relationship stuff (which is good because this is a romance novel) so we’re still going to be short (completely empty) on the museum stuff, especially since everything I write about Seb is circling the drain, repetition. (It’s hard to arc nothing.) The whole expectation thing is a lot easier when you’re getting chronological storytelling, which you are not getting because I have no idea how these scenes fit together. But you get kissing on Monday, so that’s something. Also Fin threatens to throw Seb down a hill. There’s a crowd-pleaser.

Anything else you want? I’ll be rewriting all weekend.

The post Lily 6 Notes appeared first on Argh Ink.

Admin Note

Your hearts are back. Mollie is going to be futzing with the blog this weekend, possibly moving it, so if things go wonky (they shouldn’t) wait until Monday to see if whatever it is straightens out then. We live to serve.

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This is a Good Book Thursday, April 30, 2020

My brains are dribbling out my ears, so I went back to familiar mysteries–mostly Rex Stout and Christie–just because I don’t want any challenges. It’s a good week to reread.

What was a good book for you to read this week?

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