Velvet (45 page)

HW: So, we selected the book and gave you the call, and then you got my huge edit letter with the “Don’t panic, I love your book, really!” e-mail. What was that like?

TW: I was really nervous. I was really, really nervous. While I had edited it as much as possible, I hadn’t really touched
Velvet
in a long time, so I knew there were things about it that I wasn’t satisfied with when I submitted it to Swoon Reads. I was really nervous to have your notes come in, knowing that there were things that even
I
didn’t like about it. And then I actually read your notes, and I think I literally laughed out loud at the fact that I agreed with all of them and that they were so kind. I was expecting this scathing, “This is wrong, this is wrong,” and it was just so sweet and kind. I won’t spoil it, but your notes about adding that one scene to the ending, I know I literally laughed out loud and said, “Of course, yeah. That definitely needs to happen.” I just thought it was so funny. So, it was a very good experience, the editing process.

HW: When you get your edit notes, how does the revision process work?

TW: What I like to do is read the notes, talk them over with you if I have any questions, and go through and just be like, “Page 147, go make that change. Page 287, go make that change,” whatever it is, kind of spot-check it, and then go back and read through the entire thing cover to cover and make sure that those changes work. With some of the deadlines we had, I couldn’t do that every time, but that’s how I like to do it just to make sure that things are flowing correctly and that the old material works with the new material. A lot of times, it doesn’t. The changes are good changes, but it’s just not quite flowing.

“The Writing Life”

HW: Where do you write? Do you have a writing ritual, or have to be in a certain place?

TW: That’s a good question. When I wrote
Velvet
, I’d write it in my dorm room. My roommates and I had three people in our room, so the other bunk bed was just like bed-bed, but mine was like bed-desk, with the desk underneath my bed, so I had this little writing cave. I could pull my blanket over and make a space. It was awesome. I wrote
Velvet
there, at least the first draft. Nowadays, I try to write from home and it sometimes works, but I often get really distracted, so if I really need to power through and get stuff done, I go to a café. And have coffee.

HW: Coffee always helps.

TW: It really does. I think it’s like a Pavlovian response now. If I have coffee, I want to write, and if I write, I want to have coffee.

HW: What’s your process? Do you outline everything or do you just start at the beginning and make it up as you go?

TW: I have tried to make myself become an outline person, but it has not really worked so far. Most of the time when I get an idea for a story, I just sit down and write for as long as I can on that spark of an idea. So for
Velvet
, I think that was like the first chapter. I think I wrote the first chapter in one go. Generally, it’s a scene, a bit of dialogue, something. And then I’ll stop and kind of think, “Okay, what genre is this in, what story am I telling, where is this going?” And I’ll try to kind of think through it a little more and that’ll generate more ideas and I’ll write those into a scene. So, I kind of go back and forth between thinking about the story and just vomiting the story onto the page.

HW: If you could give a piece of writing advice to someone, what would it be?

TW: I would say study your favorite stories, whether it’s a movie or a book or whatever, and figure out what makes that story work. Why do you like it? Why is it satisfying? What did they include in the story that makes it satisfying? Basically studying other stories, dissecting them analytically. And obviously just keep writing. That’s a given, just keep writing all the time.

Velvet

Discussion Questions

1.  Are
Velvet
’s vampires different from what you would typically picture for a vampire? If so, in what ways? Did you like them more or less than other vampire characters you’ve read about?

2.  What is the significance of the title,
Velvet
? Would you have given the book a different title, and if so, what would it have been?

3.  After Caitlin loses her mother, she’s forced to move from her home in Connecticut to her aunt’s house in New York. After such a terrible loss, do you think it would be better to get a fresh start somewhere else, or to remain in a comfortable and familiar place?

4.  What did you think of Caitlin’s reaction to Adrian’s vampire-ness? How would you have reacted?

5.  Is the explanation of vampire physiology/need for blood satisfying or distracting? Would you prefer to know or not know how vampires work?

6.  Caitlin’s friends go behind her back to buy the Green Thing for her to wear for Adrian. Do you think they were out of line? How would you have felt if your friends did that for you?

7.  Adrian says he found solace in fiction, and that he learned about bravery, friendship, compassion, and loyalty from books. Have you ever had a similar feeling toward a book or books? Which one(s)?

8.  In Chapter 16, Caitlin says velvet is a difficult fabric to work with because, “If you messed up, you had to cut it off and start all over. That’s just how velvet was.” How do you think this relates to the story?

9.  Mariana is over a hundred years old, and has become a skilled cook in that time. If you could live forever, what skills would you want to perfect?

10. Have you ever played Obscure Hangman? If you haven’t, go do that right now.

What if you were fated to
NEVER
fall in love?

When Fallon Dupree's (100% accurate) love fortune from Zita's Love Charms says that she will never find love, she's devastated. But a rebellion is brewing and other students, including notorious heartbreaker Sebastian, are fighting back.

A
LINE
SNAKED
THROUGH
V
ERBEKE
S
QUARE
, curving through a maze of café tables and around vendor stalls. The line began in front of Zita’s Lovely Love Charms shop, the only shop in a row of old brick buildings that sold something other than lace.

Zita’s shop had been painted a shade of pink lemonade with bow windows and a second story used only as a backlit display of Zita’s finest love charms that glittered with gemstones and gold. Sunlight made the shop gleam beside its drab companions. No one looked at the lace while they waited for their fortunes.

“Nico better be at the front of the line,” Anais said. “My sandals aren’t made for standing.”

Fallon glanced at her friend’s flat, faux-leather shoes. They looked cobbled together by a blind shoemaker, not a factory, and she doubted that the straps would last the walk back without breaking. “I’m sure he’s got us a good spot.”

The majority of the line consisted of Grimbaud High students. Tradition dictated that every high school student get a love fortune before the beginning of each school year. This particular love fortune was different than the other charms sold in Zita’s shop: It foretold your romantic future for the entire school year. Zita’s one hundred percent accuracy kept the townspeople coming back to her shop.

The line moved, releasing a smattering of students trying to process their fortunes. Some cried–good tears or bad–while others stared at their ticker-tape fortunes with stunned disbelief. The students with the best fortunes glowed like stars, one step away from dancing on the cobblestones. Nico stood in the middle of the line, twisting his damp shirt in his tanned fingers. He had brown hair burned gold from the sun and a sinewy body.

“Couldn’t you have gotten here earlier?” Anais said, pinching his arm.

“Hey! It doesn’t make a difference. The line’s been here since dawn. Just be glad you’re not in the back of the line,” Nico said, “because I’m nice enough to let you cut me.”

“Did you eat breakfast?”

“Nah. I can’t stomach it.” Nico rubbed the back of his head; his fingers paused over the thinning hair.

Fallon and Anais squeezed in front of Nico in line, much to the chagrin of the students behind him.

“After we all get wonderful fortunes,” Anais said, “we’ll have to indulge in a good brunch.”

Nico pressed a hand to his mouth. “Please don’t talk about food.”

Fallon worried about the green tinge of his skin. “Sit down right now,” she said, placing her hands on his shoulders. “Put your head between your legs.”

Nico obeyed. He gulped down a few deep breaths before struggling to his feet again.

“Could you be seasick?” Anais teased.

“Not possible. Sailing the canals is nothing like the sea. The water’s smooth, like gliding on mirrors.”

“The better to see your bald spot with.”

Nico rolled his eyes. “I’m just excited, okay? And out-of-my-mind nervous. This could be the year I get Martin’s attention. Or not. Oh God,
or not
.”

“Deep breaths,” Fallon warned.

“You don’t understand,” he said. “Martin broke up with Camille over the summer. I might have a chance.”

Fallon had only known Nico for a month, having been introduced to him through Anais, but she already felt invested in his longtime crush on Martin Pauwels, the student government president. As a sophomore, Nico had secured the unwanted position of treasurer, enabling him to work side by side with Martin during the new school year.

Nico’s full name was Nicolas Barnes, of the Barnes family that owned the most popular canal cruises in town and famous tourist attraction, the Tunnel of Love. Nico spent his days cleaning the boats, manning the Barnes booths spread throughout Grimbaud, and sometimes giving tours when the cruises were booked low. Over the weeks she got to know him, she had learned how to speak above the roar of boat engines. Nico had mastered that skill long ago and had no trouble bemoaning Martin’s now ex-girlfriend and the fact that, to anyone’s knowledge, Martin didn’t like boys.

The line continued to move and each step brought them closer to the moment of truth. Fallon could see Zita’s storefront now, adorned with slanted gold lettering. The windows revealed a shop lit with warm, round lights. Love potions in glass-blown bottles gleamed in the windows. A rack holding prewritten love letters spun like a carousel while charms molded like cupids sat in half-price baskets. Fallon tore her eyes away from the enchanting display.

The love fortune machine was built into the wall on the left-hand side of the shop. Like the storefront, it was painted the same shade of pink and rimmed with golden swirls. A series of cogs kept behind rose-colored glass moved each time the machine printed a new fortune on the paper strips. The boys in front of them shoved their coins one-by-one into the slot; Fallon heard Nico swallow loudly when the last boy, shouting with victory, brandished his good fortune and walked away.

“Who’s going to go first?” Fallon said. Her hands shook.

Anais rolled her eyes. “Me. Otherwise, we’ll be pelted for holding up the line.”

She slipped her coins into the machine and placed her hand on the scallop-edged heart in the wall. The heart pulsed as the cogs turned. No one knew exactly how the love fortune machine worked, but it was clear that the heart read who you were—somehow. Fallon felt a slight tremor under her feet. As if Zita herself was underneath the cobblestones right now, reading Anais’s heartbeat and scrawling her fortune.

The ticker tape slid out of the machine facedown. On the other side, written in red ink, was the fortune.

Anais squealed. “Good news for me. ‘
Your love life will be fruitful as long as you are true to yourself.
’
”

Fallon let go of the breath she didn’t know she was holding.

Nico frowned. “What does that mean?”

“If I’m myself, I’ll get to keep Bear as my boyfriend.”

“If,” Nico said, “you actually let him see you in your work uniform.”

Never.”