Stories Coming Soon!

Given that none of my writing is available for you to read and that there is nearly no market for my short stories, I’m going to start posting some here! Keep your eyes peeled!

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“Daddy”

Thursday night I attended “Pitchapalooza” which was advertised as an event where aspiring authors have exactly one minute to pitch their book idea to a panel, including an author and a New York Literary Agent. The best pitch wins a meeting with said agent. I didn’t hear about the event until the morning of, and while I knew I should do it, I hate the idea of going up in front of people like that and having something so big riding on my shoulders. My sister proclaimed herself to be Cinna from the Hunger Games and kept me on task, reciting and honing in my pitch until it was perfect and 58 seconds long. I tried to quit several times but she cracked the whip! Cinna then consulted me on my outfit and we headed downtown.

To try to take the edge off, I decided that we were actually on our way to get ice cream at Coldstone and that Pitchapalooza was just a stop we had to make on the way.

The event was held at our local independent bookstore and though we arrived twenty minutes early, every seat was taken. There were so many contestants that we had to sign up on a sheet to be put into a lottery. The catch was that the only way you could get your name on the list was to buy the author on the panel’s book. I grabbed a copy of the book (after snapping “I didn’t come here to buy that guy’s frickin’ book” only to discover a man who looked suspiciously like the author standing right behind me. Thankfully, he was just a guy running the event) and figured I could always return it later. As my mom, sister and I marched towards the cashier, a man who looked lie a Hell’s Angel biker stopped us. “Excuse me, baby, are you gonna buy that book to try to get on the list?”

“Yeah, we’re thinking about it.”

He nodded. “Okay, let me know if you do. I’ll make sure you get on the list. I have connections.”

I assumed he worked for the event and thanked him, then he added, “I’m weird, but in a good way.”

Confused, we bought the book then found a place to stand where we could vaguely observe the going ons. The biker sidled up to us and said “I’m gonna bless you, baby. I get these messages from Daddy. I don’t know what else to call him other than that, probably because I needed a daddy at the time he revealed himself to me. But he told me to bless you. I think you’re the reason I came here tonight. You’re gonna write such wonderful stories. The words will flow through you with such love, and that’s all we need in this world.Love. The rest is just distractions. You will write stories with such love. All you need is a little push to make it. I’ll do what I can for you tonight but after that, I can’t tell you what will happen.” He then placed a hand on my shoulder, looked into my eyes, and wept as he blessed me.

I’m no Christian and I’m always wary of older men asking if they can touch you, but this man fully believed in what he was doing, so the least I could do was help him feel like he’d made a difference. I smiled, and when he asked me if I could feel the energy that he did, I said “I feel warmth,” which was true.

After he tried to keep conversation going for a while, distracting us from the opening of the event, he left to check his parking meter and never came back.

Name after name was called off a list until finally, my name was spoken. It had worked! Daddy had got me onto the list! Either that or the fact that I printed my name very clearly since the rest were scrawled on the page helped. I went up, nervous as hell, and pitched. The author among the group loved my pitch and idea and emphasized how hot this genre is right now. The other three were a little less enamored. After my pitch I had all but run away and as they gave me feedback, and I realized I was hiding behind the man waiting to go after me so I forced myself to come back out.

As I walked away after their feedback, a little old lady snagged my hand and squeezed. “You did so good,” she gushed with a grin. “Thank you,” I said. “I was so nervous.” “Oh, so am I,” she replied. Another lady followed me and stopped me to tell me how wonderful she thought my book sounded, and as I turned to face her, I gritted my teeth. Not because of her, but because every time I give a reading, people follow me afterward and ask where they can buy the book. Yet I can’t get published. I’m so grateful to have their support, but it’s starting to get frustrating since I know I have an audience.

Another woman won the contest, and afterwards, we all lined up to receive the author and agent’s business cards. When it was my turn, the author held out the card, opened his mouth, and froze staring at me for a good five seconds. I thought he was trying to remember what my pitch was and I was about to remind him when he said, “I feel like you have a really good book.”

“I hope so.”

“Why don’t you send me an e-mail and we’ll see what we can do about getting it out there.”

“Thank you, I will.”

I walked away stunned. I hadn’t won yet here was an offer of assistance. And the way he had frozen… was that “Daddy” possessing him? Nudging him saying, “Psst! That’s her! That’s the blessed one!” Or maybe it was just the author thinking, “Do I really wanna tell her that I’ll try to help?”

Who knows. Maybe Daddy knows. I sure didn’t. For that was just the start of a series of curious incidents. Find out what happened the next day in my post tomorrow!

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