Work Text:
The room is buzzing with anticipation and overlapping conversations. Henry can’t hear anything specific from the green room he’s waiting in, but he can feel the crowd’s excitement, and it’s increasing his own excitement to hear it. He’d spent hours before the crowd arrived signing books to prepare for today’s event. Of course, his anxiety had a brief moment of ‘what if no one shows?’ but Alex and June had both assured him that the pre-orders and the tickets for the event had proven otherwise, as had the buzz on social media. “Also,” Alex had added, “it doesn’t matter if no one else wants it, because I think you’re an amazing writer, and I’m your biggest fan.”
“You good, babe?” Alex asks now, bringing Henry back to the present. “We have about 10 minutes. Walker will introduce you and Bug, and then we’ll go out there.”
“You’re hiding in the back, right?” June checks.
“Definitely. I was gonna sit with Nora, but I dunno where she went. Anyway, this is his event. I don’t want any attention on me,” Alex confirms.
“For once,” June teases, and Alex just rolls his eyes.
“I know how to let others take the spotlight!” he protests.
“But do you?” June asks, squinting at him.
In response, Alex flips her off. Henry just ignores them; he’s used to the way they are after all these years. He looks down at the book in his hands. It’s his first novel, but not his first publication. He already has a collection of short stories, a book of poetry, and he also contributed to an anthology with other queer writers. He’s rather proud of this accomplishment, and excited for this event – he's never had a public launch event like this before. He’s glad it’s June who will be moderating the discussion; he trusts her more than any other writer who could have done the talk.
The crowd quiets down as Walker gets on the mic. “Hi everyone!” they start. “We’ll get started here in just a few minutes, but just a few housekeeping things before then. First, I want to welcome you to The Strand Bookstore; we have been in business since 1927, when we were part of many bookstores on what was called Book Row. Out of forty-eight stores, we are the only one left.” They continue on, letting everyone know how the signing will go after the discussion.
Walker introduces themself as the events manager, and gives a quick rundown of June’s credentials and Henry’s published works. For years, when Henry made a public appearance, it was always related to royalty. Even when he does press for the shelters, he’s still often introduced as His Royal Highness, even though he always requests explicitly not to be. The more daring journalists even try to press him about the crown’s official stance on his accomplishments. He’s so happy to hear Walker just talk about his work as an author; it’s a nice change to focus on the facet of himself that’s relevant.
“Please give a warm welcome to June Claremont-Diaz and Henry Fox!” Walker finishes, and the crowd erupts as June and Henry walk out, smiling and waving as they take their seats in the front.
“Hi, Henry,” June says into the mic. “I’m so happy to be here with you, discussing your new book.”
“Thank you, June,” Henry replies. “It’s lovely to be here with you as well.”
“So this is your first full-length novel, but not your first release,” June begins.
“It’s also my first launch event,” Henry says. “I’m a little nervous,” he admits into the mic, and the audience lets out a collective “aw.”
“Why don’t we start by talking about your writing history,” June prompts. “When did you start writing?”
Henry tilts his head up in thought. “I honestly can’t remember a time when I didn’t write. I was making up stories as a young boy, and writing them down once I learned how to do that. I had journals and notebooks filling my rooms. I studied literature in uni, and have always loved stories, whether I was reading them or creating them.”
“Let’s spend a little time getting to know your works up until now, before we get to the nitty-gritty of your new novel. What can you tell us about your book of poetry? Looking for Orion ? The poems went from yearning to seemingly being directed at someone specific.”
Henry chuckles lightly. “Yes. That’s hardly a secret. The poems are all dedicated to my husband. Some of them were from the Henry Fox archives, having been written before I met him.”
“And now with Dreaming of You . Is there anything of your relationship in there as well?”
Henry considers the question. “I think any writer puts a bit of themself into all of their works, as do all creative people. However, I want to stress that this is a work of fiction, and it is not a retelling of any of my relationships.”
“Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental?” June quotes the standard disclaimer with a quirk of a smile.
“I see you hear from the same lawyer I do,” Henry quips.
“Well, he talks a lot, but he’s not the one we want to hear from today,” June says.
“Yes, we do!” comes a voice from the audience, and everyone laughs.
“Then you’ll have to attend one of his interviews,” Henry returns good-naturedly. He knows Alex is in the back laughing, probably with Nora.
“Why did you decide to make the main character French? Why not British, like you, or American?”
“Well,” Henry says thoughtfully. “I’m not certain it was a deliberate decision. When I was crafting the story and Pierre’s personality, he just seemed French. I spent so many hours researching names that I think Alex grew a bit nervous!”
The crowd laughs, and Henry smiles. “I’ve spent quite a bit of time in France, specifically Paris, over the years, and something about that place tends to inspire the creativity in me, so perhaps that’s part of the reason.”
“Yet the book doesn’t take place in Paris or anywhere in France?” June prompts.
“No. I set it in Britain, mostly because if I set it in France, the perfectionist in me would have to write the entire book in French, and while I do speak the language decently–”
“Decently?” June interrupts.
“Mostly fluently,” Henry allows. “Regardless, I’m not comfortable enough to write an entire novel in French. Although, I will say that I’ve been speaking with my writing agent about translations, and I might work directly with a translator on the French version, though nothing is guaranteed yet.”
“There’s been some questions about the target audience. This is an adult novel, but is it safe for teens to read?” June asks.
Henry nods. “Yes, it’s written with adult characters, for adult readers, but there is no explicit sex in there. Perhaps my next novel!” He does have a small collection of erotica in a journal at home, but that's for Alex's eyes only. He hasn't decided yet if his next work will be “spicier,” as he's heard it called in book discussions.
“Are you working on anything new?” June asks, as if she can read his mind, or perhaps they're just that attuned to each other.
“A writer is always writing, June; you should know this,” Henry says. “I’m just not sure what it will be. Perhaps a short story, or another novel. It won’t be a direct sequel to Dreaming of You ; that’s all I can tell you.”
“Can you tell us anything about it?” She prompts. “A tagline, something about the characters? Where it takes place?”
Henry shakes his head. “I'm much too in the early stages to discuss it.”
“Totally get it. When I have an idea for an article, I rarely tell anyone until I'm ready to pitch it,” June agrees. “What can you tell us about this novel, then? What can people expect when they get home from this event and immediately crack it open?”
“Well, as you may have guessed from the title, Pierre is a dreamer. His daydreams and fantasies feature heavily in the book, and I can’t tell you whether or not any of his dreams come true.” Henry gives the audience a teasing smile. “There is also a romance, though it’s not the story's main focus.”
“Now, you said fantasies,” says June, “but it’s not a fantasy novel, right?”
“Not the dragons and fairies type of fantasy, no. Although some of my short stories did feature those, but this novel does not feature those otherworldly creatures.” His favourite short stories he'd published were ones where a dragon was defeated – and very few people knew he'd taken inspiration for the dragon from his own life. He'd changed enough, and outright made up even more, that not even MI6 would be able to tell that the dragon had a real-life counterpart.
“I think we’re just about wrapping up here, so before we open it up to audience questions, I want to talk about the queer themes in your writing, specifically this book.”
Henry smiles, one for himself. “Thank you so much for that question, June. It’s so important to me to include queerness in my works. As some of you may know, I also work with LGBTQIA+ youth shelters, and seeing those children every day just drives home the importance of showing them they’re not alone. Also, since going public–” Henry hesitates on this, as ‘going public’ is not exactly what happened, but it is the nicest way he can think of to refer to what happened. “Since going public, my partner and I strive to be positive examples of queer joy. For so long, our collective history as queer people was downplayed at best, or more likely, erased. We are in a queer renaissance. More and more stories are being told, and I’m thrilled to be able to contribute.”
“Thank you so much! This has been such a great chat.” June smiles and pockets her notes.
“Thank you as well, June. This was lovely,” Henry replies.
“We’re gonna open it up to the audience now!” June looks around and her gaze lands on Walker and another Strand employee ready with mics. “Just as a reminder, please keep the questions author-related; Henry will not be answering any personal or private questions. With that said, raise your hand, and someone will come over to you with a mic.”
While he's waiting for the audience questions to start, Henry reflects. He’d been a little apprehensive about this event, to begin with, but it had turned out to be a lovely time. He should have known he’d be in good hands with June.
The readers surprisingly have insightful questions, and Henry does his best to answer them thoughtfully. Some are about his writing process, and the ones he likes the most are the questions about his characters. He’s surprised to learn a few people here have read advanced copies of his novel thanks to the publisher releasing a few copies on NetGalley. He saw the notifications about being tagged on social media. However, even though he has a separate account for his writings, he’s still wary about checking tags from anyone but his friends.
Before long, Walker lets everyone know the next question is the last one, “So make it a good one,” they warn, half-joking.
The last question for Henry is about the future of his writing and if he has any plans to write more about Pierre and the other characters in Dreaming of You . “I do have quite a few deleted passages,” he shares. “I don’t know that I have a full-length sequel in me, though you never know.”
“Thank you so much to Henry and to June for spending time with us tonight,” Walker says. “Give us a few minutes to get set up, and then we’ll start calling you over for personalisation by groups – your books should have a post-it note with a number on them. Remember that Henry is not posing for pictures, though you may have a friend take candids while he is signing.”
Henry settles in behind a large bookcase set up like a desk with his novel on display and a set of markers next to him. He catches Alex’s eye across the room and smiles at him. Alex, in return, blows him a kiss. With eyes on him, Henry can't do much, but he winks to let his husband know that he “caught” the kiss.
The first person up for an autograph is an attractive young woman with a mane of long, curly, white-blonde hair. “Hi,” she says, her voice steady. “I can’t wait to read this book. I applied on NetGalley for an ARC, but I was turned down. I really loved your other works.”
“Thank you so much,” Henry responds warmly, taking the book from her. “Is this your name here? My sister’s name is Bea.”
“I– I know,” she says, a small laugh breaking free. “I’m BeaS, though, with an S at the end, so kinda similar, but not exactly the same. I’m flattered to have a similar name as your sister, though.” Henry signs “To Beas” above his previously-inked autograph in the book. “Could you– if you don’t mind, I’d love it if you could add a favourite quote from the book or phrase you associate it with,” she requests.
“Oh, what a lovely idea!” Henry says, pen hovering above the title page as he thinks it over. “Are you a writer yourself, Beas?”
“I am,” she confirms, “though my original fiction isn't published.”
Henry smiles at the woman. “See, that's a common misconception, innit? You don't need to be published in order to be a writer. You just need to write.” And with that, it comes to him. “Keep writing and keep dreaming.”
“Thank you so much!” Beas says, and walks away.
“Hello!” Henry greets the next person in line.
The line goes on for quite a while. In between readers, he occasionally glances over to see Alex with his charming smile taking selfies, June holding court with a few people hanging on her every word. Nora is involved in what is no doubt a passionate discussion, judging by the way her hands are exuberantly flying everywhere as she talks. He laughs a little to himself, loving the way they all find their niches at his event.
By the time he finishes with the last person, his face hurts from keeping a friendly smile on, and his hand is also starting to cramp. It’s a good thing he at least pre-signed, he thinks, or he’d certainly be hurting by now. It feels good, though, to know that all these people enjoy his writing enough not only to want the book signed, but also to come in person to hear him talk about it. He stands up and stretches, gathering the few cards people had given him.
He glances around and sees Walker encouraging the last few straggling customers to leave. Henry drifts to where Alex is standing, perusing one of the shelves of rare books. He slips his arms around his husband’s waist and places a small kiss between his neck and shoulder.
“Hey, watch it, pal,” Alex jokes. “I’m married.” He turns in Henry’s arms with a smile.
“Really?” Henry feigns surprise. “What a coincidence. I’m also married.”
“Lucky guy, your husband.”
Henry makes an affirming “mmm,” and leans down to kiss his lucky husband. “Are you about ready to go?”
“Let’s take one picture of you, post-event, here, with your book,” Alex suggests. “Did you have fun?”
“It was quite lovely,” Henry confirms. “I enjoyed meeting the readers and hearing directly what they liked.” He releases Alex after another squeeze and grabs one of his books from the stack. “Tell me where you want me.”
“Well–” Alex smirks.
Henry just rolls his eyes and pecks Alex on the cheek. “Not in public, love,” he whispers.
He starts to move away, but Alex catches his wrist and pulls him into a real kiss. “Hey. I’m really proud of you, sweetheart,” he says quietly. “Tonight was amazing, and you deserve all the accolades. I’ll tell you now, and I’ll tell you for the rest of our lives. I love you, and I’m so fucking proud to be your husband. I’m also proud to be the first reader of all your work.”
Henry blinks a few times, trying to stave back the tears that have come to his eyes. “Why must you say things like that right before I’m about to have my picture taken?”
“Take a second,” Alex instructs. “Think about tonight. What you’re feeling right now? Remember it. Take it with you.”
Henry closes his eyes and breathes in deeply, holding Alex’s hands in his. He thinks about signing the books, and meeting each fan. How it felt to be up there with June, a fellow writer, reader, and sister of the heart.
“Are you two lovebirds done yet?” Nora interrupts the intimate moment. “I’m tired, and the bed in your guest room is calling my name.”
Henry looks at Alex, and they share a nonverbal exchange. He knows she’s right. “Let’s take the picture and go home,” he says.
Alex takes Henry’s phone and physically moves him to the middle of the room. “Hold up the book on display. Just like that, sweetheart, yeah. Okay, that’s good.” He snaps a few pictures. “You look great, baby.”
Henry swipes through the photos that Alex took, and he mentally adds “portrait photography” to the list of his husband’s skills.
June, waiting by the door with her coat on, looks impatient. “Come on, idiot brothers. I love you, but I’m gonna love relaxing even more.”
“June?” Henry says. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
Henry knows she means it, and as he leaves the store, he feels like he’s floating. The memory of tonight will be with him for a long time.
