“What do you want me to say? I’ll write whatever you want.”
“Come on,” Rick says. “Tell me what to write.”
I imagine sweet little lies. Empty words of praise that might look good on paper but ring false to anyone with a heartbeat.
Pauline Campos is the best writer I’ve ever met!
Pauline Campos will be more famous than me!
Pauline Campos is so good I’m going to ask her to become part of my Hollywood team and she can work from home because it’s just safer that way!
The man might be a comedic genius and a highly respected actor/writer/director who told me my work has serious potential doesn’t suck, but he only met me 24 hours earlier. To ask him to lie to me verbally is one thing.
That’s just sacrilegious.
“I really have no idea,” I said out loud. “I don’t want it to be bullshit.”
Rick stood there for a moment, probably amazed by both my lack of a filter and the fact that I didn’t want him to whisper meaningless sweet nothings that would just piss me off when he handed the book back. I hadn’t planned on buying anything else that would add to my already busting-at-the-seams suitcase, but we all got yelled at by the higher-ups at the conference for not supporting our fellow writers during the first book sale/book signing. So I bucked up, bought the smallest book there, handed it to Rick, and made a mental note to send my receipt for having a 55-pound suitcase back to the conference organizers for guilting me into buying more books (I already had five on the nook written by conference faculty that I paid for) with a demand for reimbursement.
I almost asked what he had been asked to sign in other people’s books, but decided I really didn’t want to know.
“Let’s try another route,” Rick said. “Where do you want to be a year from now?”
Ding, ding, ding!
That one was easy and I answered without hesitating.
“I want my book on the New York Times best seller list and America Ferrera pegged to play me in the movie based on my book.”
Rick smiled and began to write. This is what he “put out into the universe.” Which, he says, means it has to come true…
This break is brought to you by our sponsors, Chicken Scratch and Man Writing, as the author of this post tries to decipher what was written. Please, ladies and gentlemen, your patience is appreciated…
Um…I think it says:
This book was my beginning. Yours will end up on New York Times with America playing the lead. Best, Rick Najera
Disclaimer: And I only got that far because he read it out loud to me before handing back my book. There’s something to be said for memory retention, people.