Hopeful Fairy

I wonder if big authors ever buy their own books once they are in print. I wonder if they sit with a cookie and a coffee and savor the story like I do. One day, when I am published, I am going to have a book club. In that club, we will read my books and stories by other writers, published or not. Because wouldn’t it be nice for others to see that a famous published author is still human and still reads and still doesn’t understand every metaphor in every story?

You know, dear reader, a club like that might be necessary now, after what I saw a few evenings ago.

It was entirely too good outside for me to stay in. So, like one of the characters I have been playing around with in my head, I made the bold choice to go outside and just meet somebody. As luck would have it, Danika had her door open to clear the air from her failed pie. I know this because she got the jump on me and called me in.

Before it really settled that I was in a stranger’s house (albeit a very friendly stranger), she had me batting the air with a dish towel and spilling the usual meeting-a-new-person facts about myself. And then Tyrone came in. And Chandler and Kelly and Spectra (that is really her name) and Amy and….

It was a dinner party. And it was...amazing. I like people and all, but I like them more when they are fictional. That evening made me think that maybe, possibly, I should get out just a little more.

But what I saw that spurred this post: Danika, the life of the party, even in spite of her lackluster baking efforts, got a moment alone to start cleaning up dishes (she is the perfect hostess and would NOT allow guests to do anything but enjoy themselves). Her face was different, though. The energy was gone (and I know it wasn’t the dishes that took it). She is probably only a couple of years older than me, but she looked like a lifetime of struggle had etched itself into her face and shoulders.

For whatever reason, one of her random comments from when she burned the pie came to me: “Gaah, I never, ever get this right.”

It seemed normal enough. I’m sure I said something affirming in reply. But I wonder now how long she’s been struggling to get that pie right, looking at the perfect picture and missing each time. I wonder what else she is struggling to do. Or be.

I bet that hers would be one of the more interesting stories in my book club. Maybe it would even be her break into act two of her life, where things finally start to change for her. Especially when she sees that she’s not the only struggler.  

.Lily