Monsters Read Free Page B

mean, he is a movie star, but right now he looks like something out of a movie, and he winks and says, “I don’t travel so well.” I laugh, and he holds his hand out and takes mine. “Tommy. And you’re Stacey.” He’s still holding my hand, not so much shaking it as just holding it, and I really, really hope I’m not blushing.
    â€œI loved your book, by the way. Obviously, or we wouldn’t be here. But really, it’s beautiful. Awful, but beautiful. And it really challengesthe whole idea of what monstrous is. What makes a monster? And who or what is responsible? Or are we all? It’s just great. I loved it.”
    â€œWow.” I hate it when I don’t know what to say. I mean, I’m a writer. I should be good with words, and instead I’m like,
Wow
. “I’m flattered. I didn’t realize many people had bothered to read it, much less get that much out of it, so that’s really generous of you.”
    â€œOh, a lot more people will read it now. Once the publicity machine starts rolling for the movie, people will get interested in the book. Your sales should pick up quite a bit.”
    Daniel reappears with the espressos and sets one down in front of me. “Here you go, sweetie.” He looks at Tommy. “And you, fucking degenerate.”
    â€œI should fire you. I swear to god, man.” He takes a sip of the espresso. “That is good though. Really good.” He closes his eyes, leans his head back, and rubs his jaw. “It’s bright out. You have my glasses?” Daniel pulls a leather case out of his bag and hands the dark glasses to Tommy, who puts them on over his closed eyes. “Jesus, I could die. Do we have anything to eat?” He gives my leg the little apology pat again. “Sorry. I’m not usually this bad.”
    Daniel’s already on his way to the kitchen, but he calls back over his shoulder, “It’s true. He’s usually worse.”
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    The script is much, much worse than not very good. We’re sitting on the terrace, and I’m thumbing through the hard copy in my lap. I’m the only one still reading, though I’m not reading so much as stalling. I’m not sure where to start. “I think one problem is that you’ve sort of taken the poems and turned them into dialogue. I mean, you’ve plucked out all the good lines and given them to different characters.”
    Joe nods. “Obviously, we’ll have to add to it.” He looks older than me, which probably means we’re the same age, mid-thirties. I’m always surprised by my own age. Sometimes I feel older, sometimes younger. I never feel right.
    I glance at Tommy. He’s stretched back on the couch next to me. He has his head tipped back, his glasses on. I mean, he could be asleep.
    Alan is definitely not asleep. He’s watching everyone. I’m not sure how this all works, if he works for Tommy, if Tommy works for him. I do know that I don’t want to piss either of them off, but I don’t want to let them break my book either.
    â€œRight. But it’s more than that. I mean, this basically reads like kind of a typical Frankenstein movie,” I say, holding up the script.
    â€œYour book is Frankenstein,” Joe says. “Kinky Frankenstein with this Frederick psycho building himself a girl.”
    Tommy makes this grunting laugh. I guess he is awake.
    â€œOkay, but this isn’t based on the movies. This is based on the book, the whole nature-of-man discussion?”
    Joe looks at me blankly.
    I feel myself slowing down, pausing between words, waiting for some recognition to show on his face. “So, where Frankenstein’s creature has a fully human soul in a physically corrupted form, my monster has a beautiful exterior, but she’s evil.”
    â€œI thought the monster was always bad?” Joe looks at Alan and