twenty-two: don't control me

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"Good Morning, Ellie," Clive greets as I enter his office Monday morning

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"Good Morning, Ellie," Clive greets as I enter his office Monday morning. "I expect you've read the manuscripts I requested."

I take a seat. "Yes, sir."

"And your thoughts?"

"Have been emailed if you'd like to pull them up."

He bats my instructions away with the simple flick of his hand. "Don't be coy. What did you think?"

He's requesting my opinion of his lover's manuscript. My answer won't appease him, so I postpone it for the more positive analysis. "The Sci-Fi novel is a great piece; very in-depth and entertaining. Overall, it's a wonderful reading experience. I just made a few minor plot suggestions and touched up the grammar. All my notes are in your inbox."

Clive sighs and rubs his temple, as if my entire Saturday of unpaid work on that manuscript is an annoyance. So much for appreciation. "And Nia's?"

I bite the inside of my cheek.

"Ellie?"

"It needs work."

"Clarify."

If we were discussing a general author's future novel, this wouldn't be difficult, but with Clive's relation to this particular author, he's not going to be pleased with my opinion. Still, this is my job and while I can't tell him the entire piece needs to be rewritten, I can guide him and ultimately Nia in the right direction.

"The concept is pretty straight-forward and it works, but her main character has serious flaws I'm unsure readers will be able to overlook."

"Those being?"

I fold my hands together in my lap and just blurt it out. "She's unlikable."

Clive purses his lips, taking the moment to fumble with an unimportant folder on his desk. As he begins flipping through its contents as though I'm not in his presence, I elaborate. "She lacks a backbone and allows not only the male protagonist to walk all over her but the sub-characters as well. Female readers want a heroine they can relate to and find inspiring. Nia dropped the ball in that sense."

"What makes you so certain readers won't find her inspiring?" He still doesn't grace me with his attention as he pulls a sheet of paper from the folder and lifts it to read.

Seriously? I'm trying to help out his girlfriend or bed partner or whatever she is and I can't even warrant his full attention? I lean forward in an attempt to amplify my presence. "Because I didn't."

"And you're qualified to speak for the masses because?"

I should keep my mouth shut. It's what I've done for the past two years, but I consider Nia's character and the annoyance I fostered every time she didn't speak up for herself. I won't be a walking depiction of that spineless sap.

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