Read Life Drawing for Beginners Online
Authors: Roisin Meaney
H
e watched as Audrey pushed open the door. He waited for her reaction to his lack of beard.
She stopped dead. “Oh—” her hand reaching up to press against her chest “—goodness.”
Nobody used “goodness” in a sentence like that. Michael had seen it written in old-fashioned children’s books, but he’d never heard anyone use it in that way. It suited her perfectly.
He was too old, much too old to be experiencing silly little darts of pleasure, but there they were, hopping around inside him. For God’s sake.
“It’s
so
much better,” she said, a warm smile spreading across her face. “I must admit I never really liked your beard.”
“Me neither,” he said. He discovered a smile on his own face, completely uncalled for. “I came to my senses,” he said, “and shaved it off.”
They stood grinning at each other for a while. He hoped no wretched customers would come in. She wore a green-and-white skirt and a yellow blouse. She reminded him of a daffodil.
“So,” she said at last, “you’re having a sale.” She looked around. “I don’t see any signs.”
It had been all he could think of to get her to come back. He should have made some signs, he hadn’t thought it through at all. He’d never had a sale in his life. He had no idea how they should look.
“No signs,” he said. “Just twenty percent off everything, keep it simple. You mentioned a kennel.”
“Yes, so Dolly can be outside while I’m at work. I teach art,” she said, her smile widening again. “I’m on holidays this week, midterm break. And last night my life drawing evening class ended, so I’m completely free.”
She stopped abruptly, as if she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t.
“In that case,” he said, his heart thudding like a two-year-old’s, “perhaps I could persuade you to let me take you to dinner some evening.”
“Oh—” the hand flew to her chest again “—oh, well…”
She was going to turn him down. She had no interest in him. He was the rudest man she’d ever met. He was far too old, he must be a good fifteen years older than her. His chin was like a sheep’s shorn arse.
“Well,” she said, “I must say, that would be quite delightful.”
Michael regarded her round, pleased-looking face. Not at all what he’d thought he’d go for. Nothing like Ruth, who’d been small and slight, and not given to particularly loud clothing.
“Wonderful,” he replied, leading the way to his supply of kennels, which was located on the farthest left-hand aisle. “Wonderful.”
—————
She’d known he’d look so much better without the beard. She wondered what had prompted him to do it. He had a good strong chin too, a bit Rock-Hudson-ish.
He’d just asked her out to dinner. She’d just said yes.
She was pleased with the green-and-white skirt. It had been worth the ridiculously high price. She wasn’t entirely sure her yellow blouse was right with it though; she suspected it made her look a bit like a daffodil. Maybe she’d drop into the boutique again on her way home, see what tops they had.
He was taking her out on a date. He was going to bring her to a restaurant and they were going to sit opposite each other and eat food. And afterwards he was going to drive her home, and when he parked the car she was going to suggest that he come in for coffee, or maybe a nightcap.
And she had no earthly idea what was going to happen after that.
He bore no resemblance to the men who’d peopled her dreams for as long as she could remember, men with broad chests and full heads of dark hair who crushed her in passionate embraces and knelt in front of her with little velvet-lined boxes, and who eventually walked her down the aisle, looking adoringly at her. He was as far removed from those men as it was humanly possible to be.
But he was real. And he wanted to take her out to dinner. And she was looking forward to it with an enthusiasm that amazed her.
She followed him down the aisle, past the bird feeders and dog collars and little tubs of goldfish food, her heart flooding with happiness.
To Sara Weiss, Jen Musico, and all at Grand Central Publishing for their help and attention.
To my Irish stalwarts Ciara Doorley and Faith O’Grady, for always being there when I called.
To the Tyrone Guthrie Centre in County Monaghan, my all-time favourite writers’ and artists’ retreat, for taking me in whenever I need a week of pure uninterrupted writing.
To my life drawing tutor Paul, God bless him, who always found something positive to say about my, er, artistic efforts.
To my family, as supportive as ever.
To everyone who bought a copy of
Semi-Sweet
, my first U.S.–published novel, and to all who left a lovely message on my website afterwards.
To you, for doing me the honour of buying this book. Thank you so much, and I do hope it pleases you.
Roisin x
www.roisinmeaney.com
by Roisin Meaney
The notion of life drawing has long fascinated me. I’m intrigued by the idea of a group of people coming together with the sole purpose of studying someone else’s nude body for a couple of hours. Who, I wondered, would be sufficiently confident to pose for strangers in all their unclothed glory? I knew it wasn’t something I could ever do, not if my life depended on it—thanks, I suspect, to my Irish Catholic upbringing.
And what about the students in such a class? How could anyone sit there and not feel like some kind of a voyeur? I wasn’t at all sure I could even do that, shy and retiring little creature that I am, but the longer I spent pondering it all, the more curious I became.
An evening class in itself was such fruitful ground for a writer—strangers meeting up, colliding regularly for a few weeks. Things had to happen. And I suppose I could have chosen to write about an evening class in, say, car maintenance or flower arranging, but life drawing, by its very nature, seemed more open to all sorts of delicious possibilities. (I hasten to add that no offense is intended to car mechanics or florists, whose lives may well be full of scandals!)
So in the end I decided I had to investigate. I hunted down a life drawing class and went along to enrollment night. On meeting Paul, the teacher, I told him what I was up to. I had decided to come clean, as I thought my cover would be blown anyway when the book eventually got published. Paul seemed amused at the idea of his class being used for research purposes but was happy to go along with it, so I duly presented myself on the first night, armed with my pencils and putty rubber. (Paul generously provided the paper, unlike Audrey, but let’s forgive her as she was such a novice in the whole area of evening classes.)
My fellow students, about a dozen, were a mixed bunch, ranging in age from eighteen to about seventy, and the gender split was around half and half. I discovered from chatting to them before the class progressed that when it came to life drawing, I was actually the only total beginner, which made me feel slightly more like an imposter.
I probably should mention at this stage that I hadn’t exactly been blessed with artistic ability. I’d studied art in secondary school (high school to you), and I could copy someone else’s cartoon drawing fairly well, but that was about the extent of my talent. I had no idea how my attempts to reproduce a real person would go, but I wasn’t hopeful. I reminded myself why I was there—to see how a class operated and to pick up a few tricks of the trade for Audrey to pass on—and I set out my tools, trying to look as if I knew what I was doing.
In due course our model entered the room, wearing a dressing gown. She looked about nineteen or twenty, and was tall and attractive. I glanced around at my partners in crime—sorry, I mean fellow students—but none of them looked in the slightest bit embarrassed as she undid the belt of the dressing gown, quite nonchalantly, and bundled it onto a chair. Paul indicated the pose he wanted her to take up, in exactly the same tone of voice he would use, I imagined, if he was giving her the weather forecast, or telling her when the next bus was due. And off we went.
Needless to say, my efforts were disastrous. The poor girl on my page looked as if she was in dire need of immediate surgery to correct her crooked spine, misshapen legs, and distorted hips—not to mention breasts that were separated from each other by at least two sizes. My initial self-consciousness at being less than four feet from a naked female paled in comparison to the mortification I felt every time Paul passed my way and glanced at the fruits of my labor.
But he was kindness itself, bless him. His murmured comments were beautifully judged, his praise not so fulsome as to sound insincere, his criticism constructive and helpful. When he used the word “energy” at one stage, it sounded like such a positive way of looking at my offerings that I immediately filed it away and gave it to Audrey to use for James, whose artistic endeavors mirrored my own, God help him.
At break I cornered the model and interrogated her, and discovered that she was a student in the local art college, and well used to posing for life drawing groups. She admitted, when I probed, that the first time was a challenge, but she quickly became accustomed to it, and now it didn’t bother her in the slightest. I made a mental note not to use an art student as the model in my story—I needed poor Jackie to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown on her first night.
I stayed the course, despite my obvious lack of talent, and I thoroughly enjoyed the classes, thanks to a combination of Paul’s tact, his music choice (Neil Young, Willie Nelson, Diana Krall) and the nicely laid-back atmosphere in the room. Everyone seemed intent on the task in hand, but in a lovely, casual, non-pressurized way. This was an evening class, after all.
I can’t say I progressed very much in terms of being able to reproduce a human body in 2-D form, but when it came to plotting the book, Paul and the classes were invaluable. I loved writing this one—I know I say that about all my books, but I grew very fond of Audrey, with her bright colors, enormous heart, and enduring certainty that love will find her—and I’m thrilled that
Life Drawing for Beginners
is joining
Semi-Sweet
on U.S. bookshelves.
I really hope you enjoy reading it; do visit my website and let me know if you do. Even if my artistic skills are sadly lacking, it’s always lovely to hear that my literary efforts are going down well somewhere!
Discussion Questions
ROISIN MEANEY
began her career when she won the Tivoli Write a Bestseller competition for
The Daisy Picker
and has written seven novels since. She has lived in the United States, Canada, Africa, and Europe, and currently resides in Limerick, Ireland. You can visit her website at
www.roisinmeaney.com
.
Semi-Sweet
“I savored every bit of this romantic and deeply true novel, right up to the surprising ending.”
—Susan Wiggs,
New York Times
bestselling author
“A charming tale…Author Roisin Meaney cleverly captures the sweet, semi-sweet, and bittersweet manifestations of love in its many forms…[She] has created a delightful version of life’s recipe, by blending together ingredients that range from the mundane to the earth shattering, and everything in between. A visit to this small Irish town is a trip worth taking.”
—FreshFiction.com
“An endearing, insightful story of self-discovery, empowerment, love, and yes, most deliciously, cupcakes.”
—Erica Bauermeister, author of
The School of Essential Ingredients
“Meaney definitely knows how to bake up a tasty story from scratch. The fact that it was set in a small, idyllic town in Ireland was just the frosting on the cupcake!…Roisin Meaney is being moved up to the top of my authors to watch list!”
—GoodReads.com
“
Semi-Sweet
is a heartwarming tale of the yearning for love, the search for happiness, and the importance of friendship—all served up with tea and cupcakes.”
—Lisa Verge Higgins, author of
The Proper Care and Maintenance of Friendship
“A set of characters you can truly care about and a story that has the ring of authenticity make this a novel that you’ll be totally focused upon from start to finish.”
—BookLoons.com
“Roisin Meaney writes with charm and wit about the characters and stories that make up this community…each story line proves to be engaging, poignant, and appealing to read about…Meaney has truly made this town and its people come alive. This is an entirely pleasurable story to read!”
—RomanceJunkiesReviews.com
“Ms. Meaney has such an easy way of showing fragments of everyday life, both the heartwarming and the unthinkable. She clearly has a marvelous ability for creating distinctive, authentic, and likeable characters…This is one of those books that stays in your thoughts long after you read it. If you are looking for realism, romance, and character growth then this book [is] sure to appeal.”
—All About Romance (LikesBooks.com)