Escape From Reality Read Online Free PDF Page B

Dominick entered carrying two covered dishes, setting
them in front of the women. He reached for the bottle of wine, filling Leila’s
glass.
    “Anything
else?” He hesitated. Leila shook her head, as did Cheryl, and he retreated.
    “I’ll review
your assignment and you’ll receive my written critique in the morning, the same
place where you left your pages.” Cheryl removed the cover from her plate. Leila
followed suit, the aroma of roasted Cornish game hen making her mouth water. The
plump golden bird was nestled on a bed of wild rice, with steamed vegetables
alongside.
    “This looked
delicious. I guess I’m hungrier than I realized.” Leila picked up her knife and
fork, cutting into the delicate hen. She lifted the fork to her mouth, closing
her eyes in bliss, almost unaware that Cheryl was speaking. Opening her eyes,
she chewed while focusing on the woman to her right.
    “We’ll jump
right in. You’re going to write a romance while you’re here. To make this
really your novel, you’re going to be the heroine. You’ll write from your
perspective. Your first assignment will be to bring your hero to life.”
    Leila took a
sip of wine. Crafting her hero had been one of the things that had come up in
the conference critique as a resounding negative.
    “Heroes are the
throbbing pulse of your manuscript, the person the heroine falls in love with,
and the person your reader falls in love with. Make him someone you fall
in love with as well. You’re going to be with him for many pages – make
it a good relationship.”
    Cheryl paused,
eyeing Leila critically. “If I remember from your critique, your hero was one
dimensional, lacking depth. Also, your external conflict was weak; the event
that continually pulls our couple apart was almost nonexistent. It’s almost as
if you’re afraid to give your characters any challenges.”
    Leila cringed.
“Those were the exact words. Your exact words, Cheryl.”
    Cheryl smiled.
“Then you know what you need to work on. Throw everything you can at them,
anything that pulls them apart. Test them over and over. There should be
internal conflict as well, emotional issues that keep them apart, and a
romantic conflict, why they believe they’ll never be together as lovers even
though everything about their minds and bodies tells them that they should be.”
    Leila sighed.
“It’s all confusing sometimes, which is internal or romantic.”
    “It gets
easier, believe me. For now, write who your hero is, what he is. Everything
– his physical description, what he smells like, what he sounds like when
he makes love. Eyes closed as he takes his heroine – you – or eyes
open, locked with yours. How he smiles, when he smiles, what he looks like in
his sleep. Imagine your perfect lover.  And then imagine how you’d meet
him.”
    Leila didn’t
think she could attribute the flush in her cheeks to just the wine alone. While
she had the image of her perfect lover locked in her mind’s eye, she’d never
ventured to expose that image on a page.  Cheryl’s words were as if the
woman had read Leila’s mind, sensed her deepest secrets and desires.
    “Leila, if
you’re embarrassed or hesitant or can’t describe a love scene as though you are
caught right in the middle of it, your readers will notice and your book
becomes a wall banger.”
    “Wall banger?”
    “When your
reader closes the book in disgust and throws it against the wall,” she replied
with a laugh before quickly growing serious. “If you’re not honest with your
readers, they’ll know and you’ll lose them.”
    “Oh.”
    “Don’t worry.
Your romance will be anything but a wall banger.” Cheryl leaned forward,
resting her hand on Leila’s. “You’re selling yourself short. You have it in
you. You just need to let go of your fears, and it’ll flow.”
    Leila leaned
back, pushing her empty plate away. “This is an amazing opportunity, Cheryl,
and I want to thank you for giving me this