In What’s the Use of Wondering? Peter is a big fan of musical theater even though he can’t sing a note. That’s true for me, too; I like singing and I can sing a little, but not nearly well enough to ever do so on stage, in front of other people.
(Well, except at karaoke, but you’re basically supposed to sing badly at karaoke. Nobody likes a ringer.)
Anyway, Peter can’t sing at all, but he channels his artistic talent into behind-the-scenes work for the Theater Club. Most of his friends are theater kids. I had a bunch of friends in high school and college who were actors, too, but the idea of acting scares the bejesus out of me. (My one and only turn on film was in an abridged version of Death of a Salesman I participated in for my high school English class. I had to play all the female rolls because I was the only girl in my group. I’m certain I was terrible. Incidentally, one of my best friends was in my group, and he went on to be a real actor who acts on, like, Broadway and TV shows and stuff, and he was on an episode of Law & Order once as a witness, which is how I get to Kevin Bacon in less than six degrees, for what it’s worth.)
Peter paints sets and moves things around during scene changes and is the sort of control freak who kind of takes over when he’s thrown at a task, so he’s gained a reputation as the King of the Tech Crew. Logan’s first impression of him is that he’s a bit of a tyrant, but really, everybody likes Peter.
And I think we can all relate to loving something but not being able to directly participate. Just like Peter (and I) can’t act or sing but still loves musicals, maybe you love classical music but can’t play an instrument, or love sports but can’t run fast or throw a ball (raises hand), or love books but don’t want to write one. That’s all perfectly fine; we can love and appreciate lots of things without directly participating. Peter figures out how to stay involved in the thing he loves, which is something I think we can all relate to, as well.
What’s the Use of Wondering?
WMU: Book Two
Violinist Logan has spent most of his life training for a career in music. But as the pressure mounts during his junior year, he questions whether playing in an orchestra is the future he wants, or one chosen by his parents. His new roommate—that annoying jerk Peter from last year’s production of Guys and Dolls—complicates matters. Crammed into a dorm room with the overconfident but undeniably hot accounting major, Logan can’t stop snarling.
Then Peter sprains his ankle building sets, and Logan grudgingly agrees to play chauffeur. But instead of putting further strain on their relationship, spending time together reveals some common ground—and mutual frustration. Logan discovers he isn’t the only one who doesn’t know what he wants from life, and the animosity between him and Peter changes keys. But just as the possibility of a happier future appears, Logan gets a dream offer that will take him away from Western Massachusetts University—and Peter. Now he has to decide: will he live the solitary life laid out for him, or hold on to Peter and forge his own path?
Kate McMurray writes smart romantic fiction. She likes creating stories that are brainy, funny, and of course sexy, with regular guy characters and urban sensibilities. She advocates for romance stories by and for everyone. When she’s not writing, she edits textbooks, watches baseball, plays violin, crafts things out of yarn, and wears a lot of cute dresses. She’s active in Romance Writers of America, serving for two years on the board of Rainbow Romance Writers, the LGBT romance chapter, and three—including two as president—on the board of the New York City chapter. She lives in Brooklyn, NY, with two cats and too many books.