Wherein Bry plots her first novel.

It is no secret that I one day hope to publish a book. Lord knows my dear little, junky, yard-sale-reject typewriter is dubious that I will succeed, but it is a work in progress.

The first book I ever tried to write was a romance novel. I was about 13 and I was spending the weekend in the bustling metropolis of Missoula, MT with AG. In between trips to Ole's, McCormick Park, hands of Rummy, and dance parties, our favorite past-time was reading super-trashy romance serials.
The kinds with titles like Tempted by the Titan Tycoon and The Russian Prince's Prize.

I really wish I had saved the story, which could not have been more than 5 pages. I don't remember much but I do remember one line (I am paraphrasing, I don't want to get James Frey-ed later in life). "He was such a stud."

Clearly, this is the writing of a future, successful, Pulitzer-Prize winning author.

While conversing with a coworker, today we decided these romance novels are more the work of a template where you put in words like a Mad-lib. "There is a Thesaurus for the different words used to describe your nethers," I said.

Then my coworker said something about "touching in the swimsuit place" and I completely lost it. I'm pretty sure small children cried and birds flew enmasse from their perches, miles away, scarred by the cackling.