Toda esa gente romántica que piensa si la otra persona está mirando la luna al mismo tiempo que su amante, o que están escuchando la misma canción en la radio, no se dan cuenta que esto es lo que más tienen en común las personas que se gustan: mirar al mismo techo con la misma incertidumbre rondándolos. Es más difícil hacer un poema con eso.


Emily Schultz is an important part of The Composites team and you may have heard of her own Tumblr about the financial benefits of mistaken literary identity, Spending the Stephen King Money. King himself said of the site,”Emily Schultz is my new hero” and there’s been lot of great attention for Emily’s upcoming novel from St. Martin’s Press, The Blondes, which is now available for pre-order.

We’re happy today to host the first chapter of Emily’s novel about a rabies-like epidemic that only affects blonde women, which has been called “feminist Don DeLillo.” 


Chapter 1

Women have stupid dreams. We laud each other only to tear each other down. We are not like men; men shake hands with hate between them all the time and have public arguments that are an obvious jostling for power and position. They compete for dominance—if not over money, then over mating. They know this, each and every one. But women are civilized animals. We have something to prove too, but we’ll swirl our anger with straws in the bottom of our drinks and suck it up, leaving behind a lipstick stain. We’ll comment on your hair or your dress only to land a backhanded compliment, make you feel pathetic and poor, too fat or too thin, too young or too old, unsophisticated, unqualified, unwanted. For women, power comes by subtle degrees. I could write a thesis on such women—and I nearly did.

         Don’t get me wrong. I am one of them too. I’ve had stupid dreams, and you yourself are the result.   

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