Shifting Sands at the Beach House: Feel Good Beachy Women's Fiction (Diamond Beach Book 2) by Maggie Miller

Author:Maggie Miller [Miller, Maggie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-06-29T16:00:00+00:00

Margo and Conrad took their time wandering through the Maritime Art Museum, reading all the placards, discussing the most remarkable pieces, and even watching a presentation on watercolor painting.

“That was interesting,” she told Conrad as they strolled through the final gallery. “I thought the use of color was especially nice.”

“It was,” he agreed. “Thinking about picking up a brush? Taking a crack at something yourself?”

“Oh, no. I don’t have the slightest bit of artistic talent in me.”

He frowned. “I highly doubt that. Plus, you’re an intelligent woman. I’m sure you could pick it up in no time.”

She wasn’t sure intelligence and creativity necessarily went together. “Have you ever tried it?”

“Not watercolors, but I’ve tried my hand at painting.” He smiled. “Enough to know that I do my best work with words. Have you ever tried writing?”

“Since school? No. Nothing more than letters to friends. Although…” She stopped talking and shook her head. There really wasn’t anything more she wanted to share.

“Although what? Come on, finish what you were going to say.”

It wasn’t in her nature to disclose such closely held thoughts. Especially not when it came to things that were really just daydreams. But Conrad was proving himself over and over again to be a safe place for such conversations. “I will confess that I’ve always wondered if I could write a book.”

“So why don’t you?”

“At my age?”

“What does age have to do with it? Words don’t age. Good stories don’t, either. I say go for it.”

“You say that about everything.” He was so encouraging. In that, he reminded her of her late husbands. They’d both been that way, too.

“Because I don’t think anyone should put limitations on themselves. What’s the downside to attempting to write a book?”

She shrugged. “I wouldn’t know the first thing about such an endeavor. Where to start. How to write something that long. Any of it.”

He smiled. “I don’t think that’s true. I already know you’re an avid reader. I believe reading as much as you do has implanted the basics of how to craft a story in your subconscious. I’ll go a step further: I think you already have a story in mind.”

She glared at him because, somehow, he knew too much. “What makes you say that?”

“That’s just who you are. You pay attention to things, and you internalize anything you might think is important. Am I right?”

She exhaled. He wasn’t wrong. “I still wouldn’t know how to start.”

“What genre would you write? If you were going to write.”

They headed for the gift shop but stopped by a display outside of it. A giant anchor covered in tiny mosaic tiles. It was beautiful.

Reluctantly, she answered as she studied the intricate patterns covering the metal surface. “Something with a murder.” She smiled a bit. “I feel like that’s something I could write competently about.”

All those shows she’d watched had definitely left their mark.

He cut his eyes at her, but they gleamed with mischief. “Should that concern me?”

Her smile inched further toward her cheeks. “Have you ever thought about writing a book?”

He nodded.

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