First Pages With Lindsay Maple: Writing Rom Coms, Increasing Tension & Grounding Through The Senses The Manuscript Academy

We are so happy to welcome author Lindsay Maple, who generously offered to fill a last-minute opening in our first pages podcast (we love the last-minute stepping up!).

Today, we’re going over her romantic comedy first page, talking about her process, her research, and the things she’s learned along the way.

You can learn more about Lindsay on Twitter (@LindsayRaeWrit1) and on her website, https://lindsaymaple.com/.

Here’s her page:

CHAPTER ONE 

I always had a plan. Always. The empty seat next to me was definitely not in the plan. Even worse, it was a painful reminder of the emptiness I was about to face for the entirety of my Mexican vacation weekend. Not that it was really a vacation. If it were possible to cancel, I would have.  
Ah, who was I kidding. I’d take any excuse to get out of work for a few extra days and trade Vancouver’s incessant winter rain for some sun.  
I fidgeted with my unclasped seatbelt. Travel anxiety. I’m usually more relaxed by the time I’ve boarded. I did, after all, get there an hour early and have a beer (or two) at the airport lounge. My anxiety was still high because of the unknown factor: who would be sitting in the row with me. Knowing my luck, I’d be stuck sitting next to the chattiest person in British Columbia.  
If only I had the window seat. It’s easy to ignore people from the window, watching the landscapes fly by. Unfortunately, I was stuck in the aisle as people stuffed their winter coats into the overhead compartments and jostled their luggage past.  
Now began the tradition of guessing who would be sitting next to me.  
An old lady approached with her ancient carpetbag, sun hat already on her head, fake pastel flowers along the brim matching her blouse. She smiled at me, and for a moment I resigned myself to having to talk about all ten of her cats for the entire five-and-a-half-hour flight ahead. She checked her printed ticket, squinted at the numbers above her head, and kept moving.  
Next was a young mother traveling alone with a rambunctious little boy, who was already whining and fighting with her. As much as I love kids, I don’t love being confined in a tiny space with them for hours at a time. Sitting next to a toddler would also make my empty seat barrier moot, and zero defense against the screams of tiny ears popping or the smell of dirty diapers. A relieved sigh escaped my lips as the mom worked her way past. I hoped whoever she sat next to would be helpful.  
Oh no. Worst case scenario. An older guy approached, coughing into his hands and sniffling through his red, runny nose. It was too early in the season for allergies. It would be just my luck to leave on vacation and return home with the flu. I had sanitizer in my bag, but there wasn’t enough sanitizer in the world to help me here. Luckily, he kept moving, his germs some other unfortunate person’s problem. 
My breath caught in my throat at the next passenger. Tall. Dark. Handsome. All of the clichés. His black hair shined, perfectly combed atop his head. His beard faded into his sideburns and expertly trimmed along his jawline, as if it wasn’t angular enough already. 
Time slowed as he checked his phone, and then looked up at me. His gorgeous, deep brown eyes were pools of hot, sweaty summers and mysterious backstory. The quirk of his mouth hinted at various talents other than just containing his perfectly straight teeth, their pristine whiteness a stark contrast against the warm color of his skin.  I couldn’t help but smile, warmth flushing my cheeks.  
He said words.  
“Hmm?”  
He pointed past me. “That’s my seat.”  
“Oh!”