Reading, plus my new fiction book, Camille

The weekend has been really lovely so far. Yesterday I had a couple of guests at the apartment to show off my artwork (they seemed genuinely impressed) and then later I went with a friend to the museum of modern art on Avenue President Wilson in the 16th District to take in some art.

Today, I am home, relaxing. I am having a cup of hot chocolate because it is grey and chilly today and I am sitting in my coffee chair (it is so snuggly and warm) reading a book called The Paris Wife which is written by Paula McLain about Ernest Hemingway's first wife Hadley Richardson.

Meanwhile, I am working on a few chapters of my own fiction book, Camille. Would you believe that I had forgotten about this book? I started it in 2013 and promptly forgot about it. On friday I decided to delete a lot of old emails and I stumbled across it and I could not believe how good it was. So I have decided to dust it off and continue writing? Between Friday and today, I have come up with 12 more pages, so I am up to 56 pages of this book.  It is so funny because it is all about an English teacher in Paris who gets herself entangled in a contretemps of sorts. I will give you the first page below:

CHAPTER ONE

It was 12 :05 p.m. and Camille Stanhope stifled a hunger-induced yawn. “Where is this guy?” she muttered impatiently. “I’m hungry.” Camille was in fact waiting for her next student who was running five minutes late. This was a new gig to teach English that she had been assigned to at a posh white shoe law firm on Place Vendome in Paris. All in all she had five attorneys on this gig and she had already seen three for the day. The next guy had a thirty minute module and there was a woman after him – a partner – also for thirty minutes.  After that she could leave. One more hour. It would not be a minute too soon since she was on the verge of collapsing from hunger.

“This all-fruit and veggie diet is for the birds,” she mumbled, getting up to pour herself some coffee in a white porcelain tea cup. “I need more carbs.” She plopped a fancy looking sugar cubes from Malawi into the cup, and stirred the mixture briskly with a silver teaspoon.”

“At least they are very civilized here,” she thought, “Even their spoons are expensive. I just wish they realized that air conditioning has been invented.” She took a gulp of the beverage. Just then there was a firm knock on the conference room door. Quickly gulping down the rest of the coffee, she patted her mouth dry.  “Come in,” she said in her most authoritative voice.

 The door opened and she was face to face with Edouard Lageurre.

I can tell you that I am not going to paint today. That is for sure. I painted a couple of things yesterday, including this tender piece called Love. I think this is one of my most favorite things I have painted so far because it is so simple, and so pure. And imperfect. I don't want to perfect this. I want it to stay just as is.

So for today,  I am going to add some henna to my hair and then I am going to sit here and write about Camille and Edouard. (This is not a love story) and maybe later I will go out for a brisk walk in the fresh air.