'Bout that Writing Life

Cleo struggled to type a single word. At this point, she was beyond stressed. With twenty-four hours left to turn in her first draft, she kept saying, “it’s only an outline, it’s only an outline.”

“Only an outline?” Freddy, her manager, yelled through the phone. He had called to inquire about her status and nearly blew a vein when he learned that Cleo was having a severe case of writer’s block. “Darling, I know it’s been a rough couple of weeks but we have a lot on the line,” he said to her as he tried to mask his frustration.

“We? You mean me, right? It’s my reputation on the line. They’re waiting for me to choke,” she snapped back.

“No one wins if you blow this. You don’t. I don’t. The publishers don’t. We’re trying to be as supportive as we can.”

“They think SEED is a fluke. That I’m a one-hit wonder,” Cleo argued back.

Freddy remained silent. Cleo’s insecurities were getting the best of her and he knew that he had to choose his words carefully.

Almost in tears, Cleo admitted her fear, “It’s too much pressure.”

Freddy responded earnestly, “My dear, you wrote SEED without caring if anyone else would like it or not. That was the beauty of it. The reason it was so unique. You told a story that only you could tell. I know there is a story in your head that is dying to get out. Let those words spill on to the page. Don’t worry if anyone else will like it or not.

Cleo heard Freddy and understood that he was trying to reassure her. She wanted his words to penetrate her soul and chase away her paralyzing doubt. Elyse listened to the back and forth and realized that Cleo hadn’t learned anything from the last two weeks. She shook her head and walked out of the room, leaving Cleo to have her meltdown on the phone in private. She’d seen enough of her mother giving her power away to men and other people.