Chapter 5

It took James several days to work up his courage. He had thought about several different ways to do it, but, in the end, the direct method seemed the least painful. One night after dinner, while Zack was in his room supposedly studying, he poured them both a glass of wine and just blurted it out.

“I’m ready,” he said.

“Ready to do what?” Donna asked.

“Ready to start writing a new book,” he explained.

Donna just looked at him as if she were too amused to hold him in contempt.

“Your new book.”

“Yeah. I think I’ve got a pretty good plot,” he said defensively.

“Better than the last three? Something you not only might finish, but think you stand a snowball’s chance in hell of selling?”

“Thanks, darling. I appreciate the vote of confidence. Yeah, I think it’s got a lot of possibilities.”

“That’s what you said about the last three. Not to mention the numerous articles you’ve written without getting anything published. Why should this one be different?”

“Well, this one’s a murder mystery, to begin with.”

“So?”

“Well, that’s a real popular genre. Murder mysteries always sell, no matter how bad, because there’s so much demand for plots with both the book and movie audiences. You see them in the stores all the time, right? Not just book stores; supermarkets, drugstores, convenience stores. It seems like every little store on the block’s got at least one book rack standing in a corner, and what are most of the stories?”

“I don’t know. Who’s got time to read them?”

“Lots of people. Housewives, business people who commute in carpools or on BART, normal people. Maybe not too many high-powered female business executives. And you know what most of those books are?”

“Mysteries?”

“Yeah. Well, most of them are those cheap romance novels. You know, the one’s that all have the same plots but change the names and social settings of the characters. But a lot of them are mysteries. And one of the reasons is, besides the demand for books themselves, there are so many more low-budget movies made these days. Again, a lot of murder mysteries or thrillers. And the movie people need all of these plots to choose from. No matter how bad they are, sometimes the movie people just use the basic plot. Even the title, for God’s sake.”

“Oh, come on. Give me one example of a book where the movie industry bought the right just to use the title.”

“Remember that football movie, ‘Necessary Roughness?’”

“No.”

“Well, that was one.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“Well, you should. I know there were others, too, but I just can’t remember any right now.”

Donna wisely decided to drop the line of questioning. Unfortunately, she chose a more embarrassing track.

“So what are the odds of this one getting finished, let alone published?”

James rattled off some numbers, most of which he had made up. He figured Donna wouldn’t know any better.

“Well, I must confess you’re pretty good at computing those odds. Like a regular Vegas bookie.”

“Yeah, it was like when I was a kid. They used to call me “Jimmy the Geek.”

“I see you haven’t grown up much.”

“Maybe that’s why I chose a woman with a permanent mother complex.”

“Oh, ho! So you’re admitting how immature and childish you are?”

“I will when you admit to acting like a crotchety old woman.”

Donna made a face by pulling her lips over her teeth and squinting her eyes. James laughed at the thought of his beautiful wife someday looking like that. Donna laughed as well.

“So what did you mean you ‘were ready’ to tell me about this?” she said, breaking the spell. “How long have you been thinking about this story.”

“About six weeks now.”

“So why did it take you so long to tell me about it? You usually want to ‘share’ your new ideas with me right away.”

“Well, frankly, it was partly because I was sure you’d react more or less as you are, scoffing at the idea of me writing another book. I wanted to put the plot line together pretty well, make sure it would work, come up with a few twists and some good characters so that you might agree it had a chance. I do value your opinion, you know.”

“I’m not scoffing, James. I’m just ... wondering if you’re really sure you want to go to all the work you have in the past and not have anything come out of it. You know I support you, no matter what.”

“Thank you, darling. I know you do. That’s why I wanted to ask for your help.”

“Fine. So what do you want from me?” Donna asked as she idly picked up the TV guide and started flipping through it.

“I’d like you to do the research I need from L.A.”

“You mean in my spare time? You sound like Zack.”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous, Donna. I know how much time is involved in working for a living, you know, even if I don’t get quite as well paid for it as you do.”

“So why can’t you do it yourself?”

“Well, I suppose I could, but it would be a lot easier for you to do it. After all, it’s only stuff you would have to know anyhow – well, mostly. Most of it is just taking notes, not actually having to go somewhere and do hard core research.”

“Sure, right. Such as?”

“Such as flight times from both San Francisco and Oakland. Not yours; in the evening when the murderer would be flying. It’ll be easy for you; you can get your company’s travel agency to look it all up. My little firm doesn’t have a travel agency. Then there’s the name of the hotel you usually stay at, the route there from LAX and approximate travel times, the general layout of the streets around the hotel, the address of the nearest Mailboxes, Etc., names of taxicab companies, that kind of thing.”