Ansley. She’s an aspiring author, but to tell you the truth, her writing is a little...basic. She’s toying with modern romances but she keeps returning to words like ‘heaving’, ‘throbbing’ and ‘pulsing’. Since she was a teen, Ansley has tried to smell fear but has found it to be odorless. She stares intensely into people’s eyes trying to detect anything other than what they’re conveying - fear? Love? Mischief? Are their eyes sparkling or did they just sneeze? What are all these books actually talking about??? Last month she ran into a friend at a party who had been watching her from across the room for an hour, trying to get her attention. The hairs on the back of her neck hadn’t even stood up!!! 🙄 She is convinced that her senses are failing her - how is she ever to become the next J.K. Rowling or E.L. James random first-time-author genius at this rate? Never mind her pen name would have to be A.F. McGilicutty and that doesn’t have the same ring to it. A.F. McGilicutty is not a name that springs forth an international panty-dropping bestseller about a teenage girl wrapped up in a love triangle between a zombie and a talking polar bear. HAWT! Nor does it sound right for a novel about a ball-busting female attorney who encounters a brash construction worker outside of her office and develops a contentious, and eventually heartwarming romance with him. What an unlikely duo!! She really loves how he doesn’t put up with her crap - how refreshing! Maybe she should think about a book series revolving around a detective that turns into a unicorn by the light of the moon and falls in love with a deer that has cancer... -
As Courtney was handed the rule pamphlet, she swore she saw the Da Vinci code. Symbols swirled around, English words became foreign and strange. She somehow now knows how to set up a VCR after reading them, but still does not quite understand how to win atMahjong.
Last week she ordered each of them one of those gadgets that shatters your car window in case of a full water immersion. She also ordered a wind up radio. You know, in case the power grid goes down. She changed the air filters in the house last month, and commented that Olive Garden is a heck of a deal if you get a family sized pan with a five dollar take-home add-on. She’s been cracking open a Bud heavy after yoga class lately, and finally decided to try out a MyPillow.
But here she sits, six years after her appointment with WIDK reporting on milk prices, beauty pageants, the occasional car theft, Alderman election scandals, and downtown green space clean up efforts. This stupid little town doesn’t deserve her. She’s meant for greatness, and she despises their perky greetings on the streets....
