Second Draft · Chapter 8 of 8
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The worst part of editing your ex-boyfriend’s novel was that it was good.
Nneka had been prepared for bad. She’d been looking forward to bad, honestly. She’d cleared her Saturday and made a pot of tea specifically to enjoy how bad it would be. Instead, by page forty, the tea was cold and she was crying at a scene about a man teaching his daughter to swim.
She added a comment in the margin: This is wonderful. Then deleted it. Then typed: Pacing slows here. Then deleted that, too, because it didn’t.
Her phone buzzed. Tunde. Of course. Be honest, the text said. You always were.
“That,” Nneka told the empty kitchen, “is exactly the problem.”
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Second Draft
Nneka edits books for a living. Her ex just sent her his. It’s good, which is the worst possible outcome.
Comments
The tea going cold by page forty is the most relatable thing I’ve read all year.
Tunde, you do not get to text “be honest.” Absolutely not.