The Worst Romance Novel Ever Written (16 page)

“
And having them fuss over a dog?”
His voice is soft. I like that. It has soft laughter in it
. “I don’t much like small dogs either, but having two main characters arguing over something as trivial as a Pomeranian is ridiculous.”

Trivial, huh? We’ll see about that.
Johnny cleared his throat. “Toilet paper roll coming up or down?”

“
What?”

“
Toilet paper roll,” Johnny said. “Are the sheets coming from the bottom or over the top?”

What’s this about?
“From over the top, of course, but what does—”

“
I disagree,” Johnny interrupted.

“
What?”

“
Some people are too short or have arms that are too short to reach the top of the roll,” Johnny said. “If it comes off the bottom of the roll, they can reach it, kids especially.”

Gloria blinked. “A child can reach the roll, Johnny.”

“
Even a child going through potty-training?”

“
Well, the child’s mother or father would be there with the child in the bathroom, but I don’t—”

“
And what about people who are afflicted with arthritis? Pulling down to tear off the toilet paper is easier on the joints than having to pull across. Gravity helps them make a clean, pain-free tear.”

“
But then the roll spills onto the floor!” Gloria yelled. “It’s a waste of toilet paper!”

Johnny liked the fire in Gloria’s soft brown eyes, and it surprised him that he was looking directly at them for the first time without looking at one of her buttons, a thumb, or an elbow. “Are we having an argument, Gloria?”

“
One you’ll never win with me.”

Johnny sighed and smiled. “And it’s over something … as trivial … as toilet paper.”

He got me again,
Gloria thought.
Johnny’s IQ is rapidly rising into the two-digit range.
“Okay, some trivial arguments are allowed, as long as they progress to something important.”

“
Like, um, serious physical contact?”

He’s still getting me. And he said it just like you’d say hello to someone.
“We’ll talk about serious physical contact in a minute.”
Did I just say that?

“
I’m all ears.”

Geez, I need to get a grip.
Gloria shuffled through several pages with increasingly sweaty fingertips. “What about giving the reader the thoughts of a badly named child who won’t be born for thirty-four months?”

She is definitely a thorough reader. I have chosen my first “editor” wisely.
“I like to experiment.”
And I am still looking at Gloria’s soft, brown face. Amazing. I should argue with her about toilet paper all the time. Even her face has a cute shape, kind of oval with full cheeks and smiling lips. Okay, her lips are not really smiling, they just seem naturally—

“
Johnny?”

“
Yes?”

He is now openly groping my face with his eyes!
Gloria thought.
And I’m standing here liking it!
“Okay, Gunn’s first so-called soul mate is dead and he’s hooking up with another bimbo the very next day after yet another accident he caused.”

“
Right. Lightning strikes twice.”

“
No it doesn’t.”

“
NASA proved it a few years ago,” Johnny said. “Lightning actually strikes two places on the ground thirty-four percent of the time.”

There’s that number again. Creepy!
“But hooking up so quickly is wrong.”

Johnny sighed. “Yeah, but conquests make Gunn feel manly. I can’t have the reader think he’s anything less than a man. These conquests are good for … his self-esteem.”
I’m babbling.
“Yeah. Hooking up is good. Gunn likes to hook up a lot.”
I’m still babbling.

I need to turn down the heat in here.
“You don’t have a problem with that?”

“
Hooking up making Gunn feel manly and good?” Johnny shrugged. “No.”

“
I mean …”
What do I mean?
“I mean he’s having … sex …”
I just said the word! Sorry, Lord. Wow, I must be crazy.
“He’s … with … another woman while his first so-called love is still warm in her grave.”

“
Right.”

“
But it’s wrong,” Gloria said.

Johnny shrugged. “They don’t seem to mind.”

Because they’re not real!
Gloria thought.

“
And they do warm up in a circle before that,” Johnny added. “Yoga’s good for that, or so I hear. I’ve never, um, actually done yoga.”

Gloria looked away from Johnny’s probing eyes. “Yeah, position number thirty-four. So you don’t study yoga in your spare time?”

“
I only look at the pictures.”

Then Gloria laughed, in spite of her sweaty fingertips and rising embarrassment, and looked up into Johnny’s eyes. “But Johnny, really, a killer cop slash terrorist who hates Hummel figurines and sells her own sister to the circus?”

Johnny leaned his back on the counter. “Like I said, it’s rough. I have some things to fix.”

“
Some?” Gloria picked up the entire manuscript. “I’m going to drop this on the counter. Any page that stays floating in the air doesn’t have to be changed.” She dropped the manuscript, and it fell to the counter with a thump.

Johnny squinted. “Gravity sure works overtime in here, huh?”

His sense of humor is amazing!
Gloria reached out a hand and touched Johnny’s forearm. “I’m sorry I’ve been so harsh, but wouldn’t you rather hear an honest opinion from a friend before you start sending it out to publishers?”
Who will destroy your writing career before it can even begin.

Johnny looked at the interested hand that was obviously interested in his forearm. “I would.”

Gloria’s hand drifted off his arm. “I don’t mind helping you, I mean, most nights it’s really slow around this time. I’ll have plenty of time to read anything you give me.”

Anything?
“I’d like that, but I don’t know if I can write anything seriously.”
I could show her
It’s a Wonderful Death.
Nah. She’ll really think I’m a sociopath then.
“I’ve tried, Gloria, but I can’t seem to stay focused.”

“
Johnny, you are a funny man.”

I don’t know how to take that.
Johnny could only blink.

“
Though your humor is severely over-the-top most of the time.”

I don’t know how to take that either.
Johnny continued to blink.

“
What I’m saying is that … maybe we can make that work for you.”

Johnny smiled and gave his eyelids a rest. “I’m all ears. Oh, I’m all eyes, too.”

Gloria shyly looked at her hands.
There he goes again …
“I think you should keep writing it, and make it as ridiculous as you can.”

“
In other words, you want me to write as I normally do.”

“
Right.”

That was almost a compliment. I think.
“You know, I feel like crumpling to the floor like what they should have done to the scripts for
Gigli, Ishtar,
and
Mama Mia,
but I won’t.”

Gloria bit her lower lip. “You should write that one down.”

“
You agree?”

Gloria nodded. “And if anyone asks you what you’re writing, you tell them it’s a satire, that you’re going strictly for laughs, that you’re making fun of the romance novel. There aren’t that many good comedies out there, and I know that if I re-read your manuscript as a comedy, I know I will laugh out loud often.”

“
I’d rather have you laughing than fussing in your head any day,” Johnny said.

“
So would I.”

They stood in silence for several awkward moments. It was after 3 AM. Johnny was talking to a woman. They were both awake, and she wasn’t in one of his better dreams.

Johnny didn’t want to leave.

“
Do you, um, have any ideas for this even more ridiculous novel?” Johnny asked.

Gloria smiled.
He wants to stay and talk!
“I’ll get you a pen and some paper.”

Johnny flipped over the first page of the manuscript. “I’ll just write these ideas on the back of this ridiculous piece of dung, okay?”

I am not going to disagree.
Gloria handed him a pen. “Ready?”

Johnny nodded. “Ready to get ridiculous.”

“
Let’s see … I’d like even more tangents. They were a hoot.”

Johnny wrote it down.

“
And add scenes here and there with characters that have nothing to do with the plot,” Gloria said.

“
Something like … Meanwhile in Racine, Wisconsin, Penelope Burgomaster fed her cat Dickey leftover burritos and rancid lake sturgeon.”

Gloria blinked.

“
Or something like that,” Johnny said.

That was … random.
“Um, use more exclamation points. Have Gunn rescue Cat, Thais, and even Emily from more danger. Is Cat even dead?”

“
She doesn’t have to be,” Johnny said. “She could really be warm in her grave.”

Funny.
“Bring her back to life, but only briefly, during the climax.”

The word “climax” jolted Johnny’s hips. “Even if the climax is a love scene?”

Gloria blinked again.

There’s that crummy pollen again,
Johnny thought.

“
Well …”

“
I’m just saying,” Johnny said.

“
Um, okay, uh, after every, um, romantic scene, the two of them must be fresh and clean as if they hadn’t, um, done it.”

Johnny pouted. “No lust mists?”

“
Okay, I’ll let you have one lust mist.”
Though that is severely nasty!
“And whatever, um, love scenes you write, you have to, um …”
I don’t know why I didn’t realize this before. Johnny is … innocent. Maybe he’s never … I can’t ask him that.

“
I have to, um, what?”

“
Johnny, your, um, love scenes are …”
Spit it out!
“Johnny, I don’t normally read romances, but I think you have to make your love scenes more, um, sexual.”

“
Sexual?” Johnny said the word as if it was foreign to him. Johnny blinked but not from the pollen. “Sexual.” Johnny really liked Gloria now, and not just because she was so cute. He liked her because he could talk to her about anything without blushing. “I’m, um, not that experienced, Gloria. I don’t really know what sexual, um, is.”

I knew it! Wait a minute.
“You did have two adults acting like millipedes.”

“
I was kind of going for a metaphor there. Eternity. A ring. Something perfect. They wouldn’t need a lot of room for that, would they? They could use that position right outside the front door, right there on the welcome mat. Might startle the neighbors or the UPS man or a pizza delivery guy, but …”

I do not understand how this man’s mind works. I may never understand.
She picked up a section of the manuscript and found a page of dialogue. She moved closer to Johnny so their hips touched.

I think I’ve found something to get addicted to,
Johnny thought.
Her hip is quite warm to my form.

“
See this conversation?” Gloria asked.

Johnny looked. “Uh-huh.”