“You want to know what demons I wrestle with.”

“To say the least. To be shown what you think, why you do what you do. There is nothing in the text that allows the reader to get close to you.”

“Who gets close to anyone? Who in my alcoholic family ever got close to anyone? I’m co-dependent. Wouldn’t it make sense for me to rely on the narrator, for the narrator to choose my destiny? If the narrator is happy, then I’m happy. If I’m happy, Vida is happy. If I’m not, she’s not. It’s symbiotic.”

“But in literature character’s have depth.”

“Literature is a slide rule these days. Education is a given, not a privilege. The poor are educated and co-exist with the unread poor. A degree is no longer an escape. Fiction is.”

“There is a distinct difference between literature and supermarket fiction. The amount of truth revealed in literature . . . ”

“ . . . is sometimes far misleading than what you call fluff.”

“Resolutions don’t have to be tied up in pink and blue ribbons.”

“But they can be.”

“A formulated story denies the characters a life of their own. Predictability eliminates and denies the creative process and the universal truths that connect us all. You never know where a story will lead in literature.”

“Order vs. Chaos.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Order is predictable.”

“You’re turning my words for your own purpose.”

“Suppose romance is so popular in life and fiction because it’s archaic.”

“I suggest trite.”

“Try divine.”

“That’s preposterous!”

“Is it? Perhaps pink and blue ribbons are the everyday miracles that people won’t accept.”

“Can’t. It’s fantasy. Escapism.”

“Opium of the masses.”

“Exactly.”

“Perhaps only for the simple, not the wise.”

Eartha glared. “Perhaps Ms. Essel did perform a divine service in not allowing your ego to dominate the pages. I scarcely believe I would have moved beyond the first chapter!”

(To be continued.)