Amy Falls Down by Willett Jincy

Author:Willett, Jincy [Willett, Jincy]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Humor, General Fiction
ISBN: 9781250028273
Publisher: Thomas Dunne
Published: 2013-01-01T06:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

No Goggling

Amy became a weekly fixture on Maudine’s show, driving down to the KPBS station each Friday morning for a new “round table.” She had agreed to do this providing that no topic be set ahead of time. She and the rest of the writers would come up with something spontaneously. Maxine said they were worried about dead air. “So the worst thing that could happen is a few seconds of silence?” said Amy. “Tell them to take the long view.” “What are you,” asked Maxine, “a Buddhist?” But Amy prevailed, and although some weeks were better than others, the discussions were lively and often very funny. Whenever a writer would get momentarily self-conscious, Amy would say, “Nobody’s listening anyway. It’s just us,” and the speaker’s tongue would get untied. Maudine sputtered about this a few times but before long decided to go with it, and the title of the show, which had been “Writers Speak!” became “Just Us.”

“Everything you touch,” complained Maxine, “turns to bronze.” Maxine had called with news. “The Munster piece is running this Sunday.”

“Munsterpiece!” Startling herself into a laugh, Amy choked on an apple slice, holding the phone away from her ear, and when she put it back, Maxine was saying something about Constance Lent. “Maxine, I thought the ARB story was dead in the water, what with my radio antics with Jenny Marzen. Wasn’t she the one who put me up for the list in the first place?”

“You don’t listen,” said Maxine. “I just said.” Maxine really sounded put out. “Not only is Marzen still in your corner, but there’s a bunch more, including half the writers you’ve been talking with on the radio. Munster’s cutting the list from ten to five, giving the five writers-to-rediscover more space, and you’re going to lead off the list, so you’ll get top billing and more space than everybody else. This is huge.” When had people started using “huge” like this?

“Huge is the new awesome,” said Amy. “What about the five who got cut? That’s it for them, then?”

“God damn it,” said Maxine. “I knew you’d do that. I just handed you the keys to the El Dorado and you’re worrying about the poor saps you trampled over on your way to the top. Excuse me. The pathetic losers flattened by your inert carcass as I dragged you—”

“Mixed metaphor.”

“Kiss my ass,” said Maxine, and hung up.

When she didn’t ring right back, Amy called to apologize. She couldn’t remember Maxine ever being this touchy.

“For your information,” said Maxine, “and not that I believe for a minute that you’re really all that worked up about it, the other five writers will get space two weeks from now in the ARB’s next issue. You didn’t hurt anybody. You know, I really do feel like I’m pushing a truck uphill. And those are the good days.”

* * *

When the mid-June ARB edition came out, Amy didn’t buy it or read it online. Neither apparently did anyone else in San Diego, so she wasn’t pestered by awed calls from well-wishers.

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