Love Scenes

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Yes, yes, there is s-e-x in the novel!

There. Okay. So have I gotten your attention? ๐Ÿ˜‰


Presumably, intimacy in a story revolving mostly around 20-somethings is not going to induce reader fainting spells. In one scene in particular, what is going on is obvious. But it is not portrayed in a manner I would consider gratuitous; I believe it is well-contextualized and suits the tale.

That said, little is tougher than producing a novel like this, which weaves fact into the fiction …. and, uh, your wife reading it. And if your wife is English (as mine is), she has a particular way of asking questions coolly when text catches her …. attention:

“So I play the heroine who meets you her hero and her dress falls off? As in Hollywood?”

Wife: “Where did you get that scene from?”


“Yes, an American man we met in the Empire State Building…. In the line he wanted to know if I was there to meet my future husband. That must be him, he said….”

Wife: “Fiction, huh? Who’s she based on?”


“Oh, yes, I was the French au pair. Other friends had Swedish, Dutch or Irish. But I was the Frrrrrrench one.โ€

Wife: “Have you known a French au pair?”


“I promise when they come for to arrest me, I will say you have changed my mind! I shall tell them, โ€˜I love Bill Clinton!โ€™โ€

Wife: “Care to explain more about her?”


“The breathless, brainless nitwit in Europe sort… You know the type. โ€˜Gosh, Daddy…. it’s not like back home in Oregon. Golly, you know these Italians painted amazing stuff. I can speak Italian now! Buongiorno! Come stai? Ciao!โ€™”

Wife: “That English girl’s invented?”
Me: “Absolutely. Well, uh, mostly.”
Wife: “Knew it. And that American student in Italy she’s making fun of? It’s pretty obvious who that girl’s supposed to be.”
Me: “That American girl is a personal editorial statement of mine.”
Wife: “Fine. That you’re allowed.”


So if you ever pen a book like this, prepare yourself for…. the inquisition. ๐Ÿ™‚

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