Yes, it's true. The main character in Flying the Nest is a MAN. You might not think that’s a big deal, however it created a bit of angst in getting this book about relationships and connections onto shelves as stories like this are most often classified 'women's fiction.'
As one agent told me: "this would sell much better if you changed the main character into a woman." But honestly, as a reader I'm tired of reading about insecure women, and confidence is a big part of what my main character struggles with.
And so I give you Chad, a slightly insecure, slightly unlucky member of the male species who has truckloads of potential. I'm super fond of Chad and his emotional journey in Flying the Nest, and I hope you will enjoy him too.
Here is a sneak peak, a little look-see into who Chad is at the beginning of Flying the Nest.
I tried not to stare, tried not to commit the dreaded male gaze by keeping my head tilted toward the window across from me. It was a battle keeping my eyes from wandering back to her. Every movement she made seemed graceful and elegant. I’d watched from afar for weeks yet had barely been able to maintain eye contact when she filled my coffee cup. And now here I was. Sitting nearly beside her on the number six bus.
A strange warmth filled me. Optimism? Hope? Who the hell knew, but what was certain: I was not about to waste this opportunity. Should I suggest going for a drink? As I tried to work up the courage, I found myself distracted by the way she bit her lower lip while thumb-typing into her phone. I could practically feel her tongue tracing a line along my clavicle. My ex, Kate, had once said my collarbone looked just like Jake Gyllenhaal’s and I reminded myself of that every time I got out of the shower and caught my reflection in the bathroom mirror. It was, perhaps, the kindest gift she’d given me.
Lila reached over to the chrome rail and pushed the button to indicate she wanted the bus driver to pull over at the next stop. “It was nice to meet you, Chuck.”
“Oh right. Chad. See ya’ around.”
I barely got out a goodbye before she ambled up to the front and got off. The bus pulled away and she didn’t look back. Not once. I know because I watched as she turned and walked down Seventeenth Avenue, the bus rumbling away.
What's an Unblog?
I've been told that blogs need to be updated regularly and consistently. So let's be clear: this is not a blog.