Two hours after Mathew started to scratch his words down, his pencil suddenly stopped writing his words into his spiral red notepad decorated with his favorite maple leafs. Mathew took in a deep breath, and laid the pencil down onto the wooden table before him. Placing it neatly beside the papers he had just been working on, making sure that they were parallel to each other. He leaned back in his chair, stretching out the kinks he had gotten from sitting still for so long.
'That was unusual, normally I don't write for that long of a time but, that was almost like I wasn't even thinking about writing at all. I just wrote. It wasn't hard to keep going at all.'
Mathew shook out his hand a bit and pinched at the meaty part of it where the muscles had all seized up, turning his hand numb and almost unusable.
'That was really strange'
Mathew stood up from his writing desk and reviewed what he'd just written.
'I like this though, I guess this is going to be my next novel then. This is going to be interesting, I've never written a love story before, just younger teen fantasy.'
Mathew walked away from his writing desk and went downstairs to his kitchen to eat before he continued to write. Before bed he would type it all out then go to sleep.
This was the pattern of his days and it continued the same as always for the next few winter and spring months. Mathew would wake up, write, eat, write again, eat his small lunch, then write some more before he started his supper and typed it all up before bed. The same every day.
It was almost scary how easily the words seemed to come to him though. He wasn't even thinking about it at all. It was like he wasn't even the one putting the words down onto his paper, he was just the one writing it. It didn't really make sense, but the gist of it was that it all seemed new to him, like he had never seen it before, when he read it up later while he was typing.
Besides his apparent lack of control over his own hand, and writing, the only thing that worried him was how he didn't know how well his book was going to be received later in its completion.
People were being really accepting now but, who would want to read a novel about a gay romance? Despite how much people accepted it nowadays, there would be no market for it at all. People would probably criticise it. They would probably say that they expected much better from the popular novelist Mathew Williams.
Wow, he was already starting to freak himself out. It must be because he felt like he was almost done with the book. Mathew honestly didn't know if there would be another book in this style. He didn't think so. It felt like this would be it.The first romance novel he had ever written would be about two guys falling in love together. It didn't seem to have an ending, not yet at least. The only way he knew he was going to finish the novel soon was that mixed feeling of tiredness and elation you get near the end of a competition, award, or anything else that takes a long time to work up towards.
The ending he felt would happen was that he was going to stop it just before they got together, before they officially became lovers. The book would start with their attraction to each other. And it would end with their confession.
Mathew liked it this way, it left it up to the readers to decide whether they got together in the end or not.
The two guys he was writing about seemed like an odd pairing for him to write together, that was for sure. They didn't seem to match up, with their opposite personalities and attitudes. Who would have thought he'd write a book about a surly Brit paired with a shy Canadian?
