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PCoop: I have the feeling that you didn’t think this through.
FinnG: Not one bit.
PCoop: Are you over eighteen?
FinnG: That’s a ridiculous question.
PCoop: Yes, but I feel that I’m speaking with someone without experience. For all I know, you’re in high school writing your first novel.
FinnG: You caught me.
PCoop: You’re fourteen? I need to speak to your parents.
FinnG: :ROFL: emoji
PCoop: This might be funny to you, but I can’t continue talking to a minor.
FinnG: I assure you, I’m not underage, Ms. Cooperson.
FinnG: My lack of experience with the adult world is a disability. I lost my memory a few years ago. There are things I’m just learning.
PCoop: My apologies for being so insensitive.
FinnG: You didn’t know.
PCoop: So, how old are you?
FinnG: I don’t know. According to my doctors, I’m between the ages of twenty-five and twenty-eight.
PCoop: That’s a wide range.
FinnG: :shrug: emoji
PCoop: Is this why you want to remain anonymous?
FinnG: No. It has a lot to do with my family.
PCoop: And they don’t know how old you are.
FinnG: They’re my adoptive family. I came to them after losing my memory.
PCoop: You’re a very complicated man.
FinnG: It’s difficult to be me, but I’m learning to enjoy it.
PCoop: Now that I know a little more about your background—nothing—I’ll check with acquisitions and legal to see what we can do for you.
FinnG: Thank you for considering my book. As I said earlier, it’s good to know I don’t suck.
PCoop: Don’t forget to send me the draft of your sci-fi book and the changes to the thriller.
ChapterForty-One
October 6th
My conversation with Ms. Cooperson was productive. The first craft book I read made me ask myself a lot of questions, including the background of my hero. I realized I’m writing about Derek. I don’t know if it’s a way to revindicate him or if I’m writing about him because I miss him.
My sci-fi book is based on the girl of my dreams.
