The previous post edited slightly and with some more added at the end.  This is a big scene and I’ve got a lot more for it coming, probably tonight.

He heard the sound of Diamond Dogs coming from the bedroom.  He looked in and saw that she was lying on the floor with her eyes closed.  He sat down at his desk and opened some mail and started answering some correspondence.  Suddenly she spoke.  “It’s like a terrible weight is pressing down on me.” she said.  “Like a big, empty bathtub sitting on my chest.  All the stories of everything I ever thought could happen are dissolving away.”

He put down his pen and looked over at her.  “Well you have to stay with me.”

She opened her eyes and returned his gaze.  “I’m totally with you Vicky.  Even if I were just in love with you, I would be totally with you, but being in love with you and having this going on, there really isn’t anything but you in my world.”

“I feel the same way, my love. I wish … I wish that the reason for that was different, but I’m very glad.  And we do have an advantage, don’t we, over couples who haven’t known each other so long.”

“That’s right,” she got up and crossed the room to sit on his lap.  “I know just how awful you are, and I’m ready for you."  She kissed him gently.  "There are some things, though, that ought to be dealt with.”

“Like what?”

She frowned and stared at the floor.  He could feel her withdrawing into herself. 

“It’s difficult.  I never talk about it to anyone, but now that we’re married I feel like I can’t get away from it.”

“Anything, darling.  You can tell me anything.”

“Victor, I want to ask you about something …”

“There isn’t one subject on this Earth I wouldn’t talk to you about."  He held his breath, trying to think what it could be, preparing for the worst.

"Do you hate the book business as much as I utterly despise the music business?"  she asked.  "You see, now that its sinking in that I’m not going to play for any more audiences the whole last thirty years of my career is starting to seem completely insane to me.”

He laughed, releived.  “I don’t think I hate the business as much as you seem to, but it’s true we’ve never talked about it, have we?”

“I’m almost afraid to because I’m starting to realize that I had this total loathing of the entertainment business in the back of my mind for decades.  I couldn’t afford to notice it, so it receded to the background so far that I didn’t know I still had it.  I’m worried that if I talk about it I might remind you of something similar you’re doing and mess you up.”

He sighed helplessly and tried to search his feelings for an answer for her.  “I knew the entertainment business was total crap after I was in it for a year.  Becky and I had been seriously interested in literature at school.  We used to compete to see who could read the most obscure 19th century authors.  We were totally deluded that if we really cared about serious literature we could somehow keep it alive.  But it was like a mirage, the deeper I got into the publishing industry the more I knew, absolutely and beyond a shadow of a doubt, that there’s nothing left of literature at all.  There’s no serious writing, just trends and posturing.  And if I were a better person I might have quit and gone off to work with lepers in India or something but I settled for making people feel a little better.  I always knew I had it easy, shut up by myself for weeks on end.  I only ever had to do book signings and such.”