conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What could be a title for a book about with the genre: Literature & Fiction, Short Stories & Anthologies?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A title for this book could be 'All This Heavenly Glory'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide the first five paragraphs for this book.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: All This Heavenly Glory
  A few minutes into their date, Charlotte Anne is already frustrated by Jenna's absence of any sort of edge, and yet, a few minutes after that, will be charmed as most are, given the opportunity, by Jenna's unrelenting niceness (even in the face of Charlotte Anne's overt ho-hum attitude), her sense of humor/ability to laugh at herself, and ironically, the very unironic overall quality Charlotte Anne claims to detest. Going into the friendship, there are certain unknowns of a similar nature that for better and worse will help forge a bond/dependence between them that will take a lot of therapy and twelve-step work to remodel twenty and then some years into the future. It turns out that Jenna's mysterious sixth-grade absence/correctly-diagnosed depression by unlicensed-therapist-in-training Charlotte Anne was due as much as anything to a letter from her former best friend/only real friend (in this case also best building friend) Debbie Alsop, who more or less explained that she had obtained a new best all-around friend and would no longer be needing Jenna's association. Charlotte Anne, who still has a best building friend and a couple of other newish school friends since the move up to seventh, is still smarting from the malicious list from her former best school friend Clarisse calling her a bitch and implying that sex and drugs might be of use. (Charlotte Anne would have a lifelong issue with non-dog-oriented use of this word from this point forward, even in jest. Her general good sense of humor, even about herself, as a rule tends to show no signs of its existence in incidents of name-calling or even when gently teased, say as by her mother and stepfather, who do it kind of a lot.)
  In April of that year, Jenna invites Charlotte Anne to her family's house on Fire Island for a weekend. Charlotte Anne has heard of Fire Island but has never been there. Jenna and Charlotte Anne create a new routine, modified from their city routine, wherein their day consists of going to the beach, doing Mad Libs (somewhat less fun for the girls, who fancy themselves of a sophisticated wit, when Jenna's younger brother plays and much like C.A.'s own stepbrothers is inclined to use adjectives and nouns relating mostly to things found in, near, or around the toilet), playing pinball in "town" (neighboring community that has several small shops, bars, and restaurants), and riding bikes (during which Jenna modifies the "lose Charlotte Anne in the building" game to "lose Charlotte Anne on Fire Island" game, by leading Charlotte Anne leisurely through several neighboring communities and then riding away really fast to see if Charlotte Anne will find her way back, which she always does, which always results in Jenna being slightly miffed. Neither of them bothers to think through what might occur if Charlotte Anne really did get lost, but Fire Island is a fairly easy place to get around, being three or four blocks wide in most places and having alphabetically lettered streets. Not to mention that Charlotte Anne is not at all stupid and easily able to navigate the simple courses Jenna has attempted to lose her in. Another thing neither of them is bothering to think through is why Jenna is doing this in the first place—neither is particularly competitive, and Jenna insists she just thinks it's funny. Charlotte Anne isn't morally outraged, probably because she does always find her way back, but neither does she think it's terribly funny, writing off Jenna's lapse in sophisticated humor to her having brothers). One of the best outcomes of the weekend in Fire Island is that they return to school with tans (or in Charlotte Anne's case, a sunburn and a lot of freckles), which elevates them socially, if only the tiniest notch. Charlotte Anne will spend several more weekends at the Ritters' on Fire Island during the spring and summer, before she leaves for Iowa to see her real dad.
  So after the prayer, Charlotte became friendly with this guy Russell, who she saw at first as just a friend, a very casual friend, someone she was getting to know in a strictly platonic, see-you-at-the-next-party kind of thing. It went on like that for a few months and she felt certain that there was no attraction of any kind, because of his overall style (big thick sweaters she might have really liked in 1990) and because of his overall looks (cute enough but not in a way that personally appealed to her at all) and because of his overall having a regular job and especially because of his overall political views, which she understood to be slightly right-leaning, and although this led to some lively conversations, Charlotte felt that there was no way she could ever be involved with someone who planned to vote for a candidate who had an overall demeanor not unlike that of a four-year-old who just found out he was getting skipped into second grade. When the election came, Russell admitted to having come to his senses and changing his vote, for a candidate who was at least smart, if not necessarily more promising, which brings up a lesser-of-two-evils sort of issue, not that it would matter in the end anyway, in any case, Russell's vote change served as his reentry into a genus of people she could in some theoretical universe date, as opposed to someone she could in no universe of any kind date.
  A few months went by where they passed at parties and such and exchanged occasional hello or goodbye hugs but overall Charlotte still wasn't feeling him (and therefore, she hadn't really been taking any kind of notes on whether or not he was feeling her) and went about her business and then one day at another party Russell made a comment to Charlotte about how she struck him as being really kind of healthy, in an emotional way, which wasn't completely surprising—she knew she was fairly adroit at making people think she had it going on in that way (which gets into another whole thing about whether that was really a useful trait, which in fact she was pretty sure it wasn't, considering that maybe she could actually get some help from people, if she were willing to admit she needed any). Still, it was nice to hear, and had the effect of transforming Russell somewhat suddenly into possibly being a new and nice type. Possibly a normal type. Possibly the type she had prayed for. His niceness very suddenly transformed him into being someone she might ever want to kiss; it became a desirable quality to her, the niceness, and she felt that whether or not anything even took place with the nice possibly normal type, that she could possibly like some other normal type. The following day she received news that her first film had been financed, which, recall, she had also prayed for, and while Charlotte was not fully convinced that her prayers were directly related to these events, seeing as how she did take the necessary action to put the career success in order (i.e., writing the script, sending out the script, enduring many rejections of the script, rewriting the script, resubmitting the script, enduring several more rejections of the script, considering financing the script with her own money, remembering she had no money, submitting the script again, simultaneously fetching lots of coffee on lots of movie sets for lots of people until the financing finally came through), it certainly encouraged her as far as any other prayers possibly coming true, it certainly caused her to consider praying for the perfect coffee table and maybe also a little less post—El Niño snow, which seemed reasonable considering that it would be harder for her to get out and do god's work if she couldn't get out at all, even though really, she was still never entirely sure of what sort of work it was she was supposed to be doing for god, and overall, although the seeming results of the prayers were pleasant, it still didn't do much to pinpoint her understanding of god, which continued to be fuzzy. (Including: capitalize, or no? What about the gender issue? Male? Female? Other? Why am I here? Are you in touch with my mom by any chance? Like this.)
  They had some lengthy and informative conversation about their families wherein it was uncovered that they had a few things in common, enough for a potential understanding but not so much that it was freaky and therefore causing them to have that premature intense soul-mate thing imperative in most of Charlotte's past relationships, which never failed to burn out within sixty to ninety days, which almost always resulted in vehement denial by one party or the other, but never both, that there was ever an intense soul-mate thing going on in the first place. Russell had five actual and whole siblings all from the same parents; Charlotte, as an only child, with a stepfamily that grew up in a different home, found this information to be almost impossible to process.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: All This Heavenly Glory
  A few minutes into their date, Charlotte Anne is already frustrated by Jenna's absence of any sort of edge, and yet, a few minutes after that, will be charmed as most are, given the opportunity, by Jenna's unrelenting niceness (even in the face of Charlotte Anne's overt ho-hum attitude), her sense of humor/ability to laugh at herself, and ironically, the very unironic overall quality Charlotte Anne claims to detest. Going into the friendship, there are certain unknowns of a similar nature that for better and worse will help forge a bond/dependence between them that will take a lot of therapy and twelve-step work to remodel twenty and then some years into the future. It turns out that Jenna's mysterious sixth-grade absence/correctly-diagnosed depression by unlicensed-therapist-in-training Charlotte Anne was due as much as anything to a letter from her former best friend/only real friend (in this case also best building friend) Debbie Alsop, who more or less explained that she had obtained a new best all-around friend and would no longer be needing Jenna's association. Charlotte Anne, who still has a best building friend and a couple of other newish school friends since the move up to seventh, is still smarting from the malicious list from her former best school friend Clarisse calling her a bitch and implying that sex and drugs might be of use. (Charlotte Anne would have a lifelong issue with non-dog-oriented use of this word from this point forward, even in jest. Her general good sense of humor, even about herself, as a rule tends to show no signs of its existence in incidents of name-calling or even when gently teased, say as by her mother and stepfather, who do it kind of a lot.)
  In April of that year, Jenna invites Charlotte Anne to her family's house on Fire Island for a weekend. Charlotte Anne has heard of Fire Island but has never been there. Jenna and Charlotte Anne create a new routine, modified from their city routine, wherein their day consists of going to the beach, doing Mad Libs (somewhat less fun for the girls, who fancy themselves of a sophisticated wit, when Jenna's younger brother plays and much like C.A.'s own stepbrothers is inclined to use adjectives and nouns relating mostly to things found in, near, or around the toilet), playing pinball in "town" (neighboring community that has several small shops, bars, and restaurants), and riding bikes (during which Jenna modifies the "lose Charlotte Anne in the building" game to "lose Charlotte Anne on Fire Island" game, by leading Charlotte Anne leisurely through several neighboring communities and then riding away really fast to see if Charlotte Anne will find her way back, which she always does, which always results in Jenna being slightly miffed. Neither of them bothers to think through what might occur if Charlotte Anne really did get lost, but Fire Island is a fairly easy place to get around, being three or four blocks wide in most places and having alphabetically lettered streets. Not to mention that Charlotte Anne is not at all stupid and easily able to navigate the simple courses Jenna has attempted to lose her in. Another thing neither of them is bothering to think through is why Jenna is doing this in the first place—neither is particularly competitive, and Jenna insists she just thinks it's funny. Charlotte Anne isn't morally outraged, probably because she does always find her way back, but neither does she think it's terribly funny, writing off Jenna's lapse in sophisticated humor to her having brothers). One of the best outcomes of the weekend in Fire Island is that they return to school with tans (or in Charlotte Anne's case, a sunburn and a lot of freckles), which elevates them socially, if only the tiniest notch. Charlotte Anne will spend several more weekends at the Ritters' on Fire Island during the spring and summer, before she leaves for Iowa to see her real dad.
  So after the prayer, Charlotte became friendly with this guy Russell, who she saw at first as just a friend, a very casual friend, someone she was getting to know in a strictly platonic, see-you-at-the-next-party kind of thing. It went on like that for a few months and she felt certain that there was no attraction of any kind, because of his overall style (big thick sweaters she might have really liked in 1990) and because of his overall looks (cute enough but not in a way that personally appealed to her at all) and because of his overall having a regular job and especially because of his overall political views, which she understood to be slightly right-leaning, and although this led to some lively conversations, Charlotte felt that there was no way she could ever be involved with someone who planned to vote for a candidate who had an overall demeanor not unlike that of a four-year-old who just found out he was getting skipped into second grade. When the election came, Russell admitted to having come to his senses and changing his vote, for a candidate who was at least smart, if not necessarily more promising, which brings up a lesser-of-two-evils sort of issue, not that it would matter in the end anyway, in any case, Russell's vote change served as his reentry into a genus of people she could in some theoretical universe date, as opposed to someone she could in no universe of any kind date.
  A few months went by where they passed at parties and such and exchanged occasional hello or goodbye hugs but overall Charlotte still wasn't feeling him (and therefore, she hadn't really been taking any kind of notes on whether or not he was feeling her) and went about her business and then one day at another party Russell made a comment to Charlotte about how she struck him as being really kind of healthy, in an emotional way, which wasn't completely surprising—she knew she was fairly adroit at making people think she had it going on in that way (which gets into another whole thing about whether that was really a useful trait, which in fact she was pretty sure it wasn't, considering that maybe she could actually get some help from people, if she were willing to admit she needed any). Still, it was nice to hear, and had the effect of transforming Russell somewhat suddenly into possibly being a new and nice type. Possibly a normal type. Possibly the type she had prayed for. His niceness very suddenly transformed him into being someone she might ever want to kiss; it became a desirable quality to her, the niceness, and she felt that whether or not anything even took place with the nice possibly normal type, that she could possibly like some other normal type. The following day she received news that her first film had been financed, which, recall, she had also prayed for, and while Charlotte was not fully convinced that her prayers were directly related to these events, seeing as how she did take the necessary action to put the career success in order (i.e., writing the script, sending out the script, enduring many rejections of the script, rewriting the script, resubmitting the script, enduring several more rejections of the script, considering financing the script with her own money, remembering she had no money, submitting the script again, simultaneously fetching lots of coffee on lots of movie sets for lots of people until the financing finally came through), it certainly encouraged her as far as any other prayers possibly coming true, it certainly caused her to consider praying for the perfect coffee table and maybe also a little less post—El Niño snow, which seemed reasonable considering that it would be harder for her to get out and do god's work if she couldn't get out at all, even though really, she was still never entirely sure of what sort of work it was she was supposed to be doing for god, and overall, although the seeming results of the prayers were pleasant, it still didn't do much to pinpoint her understanding of god, which continued to be fuzzy. (Including: capitalize, or no? What about the gender issue? Male? Female? Other? Why am I here? Are you in touch with my mom by any chance? Like this.)
  They had some lengthy and informative conversation about their families wherein it was uncovered that they had a few things in common, enough for a potential understanding but not so much that it was freaky and therefore causing them to have that premature intense soul-mate thing imperative in most of Charlotte's past relationships, which never failed to burn out within sixty to ninety days, which almost always resulted in vehement denial by one party or the other, but never both, that there was ever an intense soul-mate thing going on in the first place.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide three more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Day 52: Make attempts to understand and accept the simple meaning of someone not calling after a date. Delete MATTEO CELL from phone.
  Day 65: Over the course of a week, exchange glances, smiles, or "hi"s with at least four different cute strangers on the street, inducing a mini-meltdown, in considering these as possible missed opportunities. As they pass by, think, Was that him? What if I never see him again? What if it's the one who smiled at me at Atomix? Or the guy from the farmer's market? Or the guy on Huron and Hoyne? What if it really is Owen Wilson? What if any one of them could have been the one, what if it's just a matter of starting an actual conversation and any one of these guys was the one and I just didn't talk to them because they were strangers? HOW DOES ANYONE MEET ANYONE IF THEY DON'T DRINK? How is it I'm only asking this question now that I've been sober for ten years?
  Day 70: Meet with the other cute filmmaker to discuss a collaboration. Feel excited about the project. Carry on with life.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide the last five paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Is it so great to be you? It must be so great to be you. If I were to interview you, that might be the only question I would ask. I would say, Ben Folds, is it so great to be you? And you, I imagine, would say, It is really really great and I would say Thank you very much, that was Ben Folds. I cannot imagine that when you're at the keyboard, bangin', that you don't think, Wow, it is so totally fucking great to be me!
  Listening to your music, what I think is so great about you, is that rather than wishing I were you (which is something I have been known to do, historically, having wished on occasion that I were, yes, Billy Joel, Fred Astaire, Shawn Colvin, Edward Gorey, and David Foster Wallace, to name just a few who come to mind) I find myself, thinking, wow, it is totally fucking great to be me. Which is not at all mutually exclusive of thinking it must also be fucking great to be you. It's just that for the first time, thinking along these lines, I also thought, you know, although it must be fucking great to be Ben Folds, since I am not Ben Folds, I am glad there is a Ben Folds to be Ben Folds, so that I feel the indescribably full feelings I am made to feel when listening to Ben Folds.
  I would like to say, however, Ben Folds, that if you ever need someone to sing Aaaah, or Bop-aah, that sort of thing, that I am qualified to do exactly that, in tune and in harmony, not just because I have sung along many times over to Carpenter and Partridge records in a similar fashion, but because I do have an actual musical resume, albeit a short one. Plus I would make a cute addition to your backup singers, and I am willing and available to travel starting immediately. I realize my current CV does not exactly qualify me for this position, but I think it would give you an extra cachet to have a short-story writer in your backup band. I have been called both "literary darling" and "short-story mastermind." That could be cool, right? I only ask because although it is truly great to be me (my husband and I have a hammock), writing is a different kind of thrill than making music, not to get too esoteric, but although the process of writing can be immensely satisfying, as is the ability to connect with a reader, physically, well, it's lacking. I don't get to bang on my keyboard, and even if I did, kick-ass melodies wouldn't come out. I'm just putting the offer out there.
  Yours most sincerely with not even a little bit of irony in case that's what you think because it is 100 percent for sure with all sincerity,
  Here are the events that make up a life: a junior high school fashion crisis, a best friend's betrayal, substance abuse, recovery, finding a satisfying career, dating fiascoes, the perfect relationship, the burdens of familial duty. The particular life that comes into focus in these pages is that of Charlotte Anne Byers, one gloriously flawed human being who's constantly struggling to fit in - a character in whom every reader will likely see herself reflected. Charlotte's dogged pursuit of happiness becomes hilariously and achingly real in a work that mixes whimsy, skepticism, emotional frankness, and grace.