Hyacinth (Suitors of Seattle) Read Free Page B

seemed to be for her.
    He nodded.  "Do you know I've even had people tell me that I should pay them for their ideas?  It's crazy to me.  I mean, no matter how good the idea is, I have enough of my own.  Ideas are not the hard part of the job.  It's the hour after hour of sitting, pen in hand, writing the words that come to mind, and then having to go back and cross off some of the words, because you realize later they made no sense to start with."  He sighed.  "It's a long hard process, and people think it's easy for me."  He shook his head, wishing writing really was as easy as others believed it to be.
    "It's still not?  How long ago did you have your first book published?"   Hyacinth had believed writing would get easier with time.
    Lawrence smiled.  "I was still at school when I wrote my first book.  Honestly?  I don't know how it ever got published.  It was more about my idea of what the West would be like than what it's really like.  The publisher should have laughed in my face.  Instead, they gently helped me change the parts of my book that made no sense into something that was readable.  The book was published when I was just nineteen." He leaned back in his chair.  "I've gotten better over time.  My style is more polished, and I do a much better job at researching my characters, but the work is still hard work and just as slow."
    Hyacinth did some quick mental math.  Eight years ago.  He'd been a published writer for eight years.  She thought about that while the waiter took their order, setting a glass of water in front of her that she quickly picked up and sipped from.  After the waiter left, she asked, "So how long does it generally take you to write a book?"
    He shrugged.  "Anywhere from nine months to fifteen months, depending on how much research I have to do.  I've found the best way to research something is to go to the source, so I have done extensive traveling throughout the West to talk to different people, look at different Indian tribes, and observe how things are done in various places."  He took a drink of his own water, watching her over the top of the glass.  "Thank God for trains.  Imagine how long it would take me to get from one place to another by covered wagon.  Modern transportation has made my job so much easier."
    She laughed.  "I know!  You know, they say that soon automobiles will be everywhere.  I've seen photographs of a few of them, and they don't seem all that safe to me, but I love the idea that they could go anywhere, even without a track!"   Her eyes lit up at the idea.  Of course, the idea of traveling in an automobile was as much science fiction to her as any Jules Verne novel.
    He nodded.  "I was in Germany a few years ago, and I was able to see a couple of the automobiles there.  They're just amazing."  He shrugged.  "They seem like an awful lot of work to use, though.  I think we'll be using horses for many more years to come."
    Hyacinth thought about his words for a moment and then shook her head.  "I'd bet that by the time either of us has a grandchild, motor cars will be in almost constant use."  She shrugged.  "Horses will still be used to plow fields, I'm certain, because inventors never seem to think about the work that the common man does."
    "Oh, I don't know about that!  You certainly do have an imagination, though.  It's a good thing to see in a writer."   He beamed at her, as if her imagination was something he'd personally had something to do with developing.
    Hyacinth mad e a face, feeling like he was patronizing her, and she wasn't about to put up with that.  "I do have a brain, you know."
    Lawrence squeezed the hand he still held.  "There's no doubt in my mind of that.  You seem like a very bright woman.  I think you can do just about anything you put your mind to."
    Hyacinth wasn't certain how to respond to that, so she said nothing.  Their meals arrived, and she had the pot roast put in front of her.  She picked