When I finished the reading, I was rather confused. I surfaced from the story and it took a moment for me to realize where I was and what I was doing. When I recalled my purpose for holding a microphone in front of a coffee shop full of people, I was greeted with a smattering of applause. It was no standing ovation, but it was not rotten fruit being hurled at me either.
Most meaningful to me were the looks on the faces of the writers’ group. Audrey still looked as if she might prefer a big pile of garbage to me, but even she was clapping. I felt as if I was ready to take on the world. To do that, I was going to have to welcome criticism as equally as I welcomed praise.
I had started my journey as a writer.
When I returned to the table, Estrella was waiting for me with a fresh cup of coffee.
“Wow, that was an experience.” I looked nervously at the table of writers.
“It was more than an experience. It was a declaration.” Estrella reached out and squeezed one of my hands. “Now, about the book.”
“What about it?”
“I have a friend that can edit it for you.” She handed me a business card. “She’s ruthless, but she’s good. What you have here, Samantha, is fantastic, but it needs polishing. It’s always good to have someone with no personal interest take a look and clean it up.”
“Okay.”
I tried not to feel too crushed. I didn’t think the story needed editing. After all, I’d read it over and corrected it, what felt like a million times. I’d hoped that she would jump up and down and cheer for me. Anything less made me feel like a failure. She must have noticed the shift in my expression, because her own softened.
“Samantha, this really is good work. If you’re going to put it out for the world to read, it’s important to take this little extra step. That way nothing takes away from the beautiful content that you have created.” She patted my shoulder reassuringly. “Trust me, darling, if you are going to be a writer you have to develop a thick skin and be as grateful for the critiques as you are for the compliments.”
“I am.” I felt a little humbled by her words. “I just wonder what she’ll do to it. I mean, will she change everything about it? It is a very personal story.”
“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t suggest her if she wasn’t the best person for the job.”
“Thank you, Estrella. You’ve really made this happen for me.”
“No, sweetheart, you did this. It’s your achievement. Don’t forget that.”
As we left the coffee shop I felt a mixture of emotions. On the one hand, I was excited that I’d been brave enough to read the first few chapters in front of an audience. On the other hand, I was terrified of what this editor might do to my book.
There was one more piece to the puzzle that I had to check on as well.
When I arrived at the apartment, I sent my book off to the editor. I didn’t even allow myself to call her first, as I didn’t want to change my mind. I trusted Estrella.
Once the story was flying through cyberspace I began preparing myself for what it might come back to me as. I had a feeling that it would be chopped to bits. I was still a little terrified of exposing myself and my writing to a stranger. Then I realized how absurd that was. I was about to share my writing with anyone who could download it and I was worried about having an editor comb through it? But there was a good reason to be worried. This wasn’t just some fiction I had slapped together.
This was me, typed out sentence by sentence, about to be ripped to shreds by the damning red pen.
To try to take my mind off the editing, I checked in with the artist I’d chosen to create my book cover. It was supposed to be sent to me the day before, but she was running behind. I sent her a quick e-mail letting her know that I was about ready to publish but needed the book cover as soon as possible.
After that I tidied up the kitchen to keep my mind off what the editor might be doing to my book.
About thirty minutes later my computer chimed, letting me know that I had a new e-mail. I walked over to find that it was from the artist. She had sent my book cover. I was very excited to see it. I’d given her some details about Zara, but I wanted her to use her creativity.
Chapter 8
I opened the file and a gigantic half-naked woman splashed across my screen.
At first I thought I might have stumbled onto one of those awful viruses that infect a perfectly innocent computer with pornographic images, but then I saw the title splashed across the bottom of the image. Becoming Zara.
Apparently Zara was only overweight in her breasts and had so much confidence that she thought a bikini was proper attire for walking down the street. I was absolutely repulsed by what I saw.
This was not Zara at all.
It showed none of her full body, none of her stylish taste in clothes, none of her air of confidence.
I closed the file and took a deep breath. I knew that people didn’t always get things right the first time. I didn’t want to send off a scathing e-mail. I needed this artist to create what I wanted, so I didn’t want to upset or offend her.
Once I’d typed out a reasonable e-mail pointing out the distinct differences between what I’d requested and what she had provided, I felt a little better. I still didn’t see how she could have come up with such a strange image of Zara. I began to doubt whether my description of her was clear enough in the book.
After lunch I checked my e-mail again and found that the artist had sent me another file, along with an apology.
Samantha,
I’m sorry for the mix-up. To be honest with you, I’m so used to creating these kinds of covers. Most of my customers want a certain type of cover that they feel will sell much better. I did create an image using your specifications but I thought you would reject it because—well, it looked rather average. I’ve included it here. Please feel free to request any modifications.
I opened the file, prepared for the worst. I was half-expecting Zara to be sprawled across a pile of hay or the white sand of a beach. Instead, the image that popped up took my breath away.
I felt as if I was staring directly at Zara, a woman who I’d never met, but who I’d gotten to know quite intimately as I wrote her story. She looked beautiful with her carefully chosen outfit that accented her curves and downplayed her problem areas. She had a confident smile on her lips. I was sure that from the image she was ready to take on the world. That was the Zara that I knew.
I quickly sent back an e-mail with glowing praise to the artist. I was quite happy with the book cover. Maybe her other customers were right, and the first cover would have sold better, but those were not the women I was trying to reach. I knew that if I was shopping for a book and saw Zara on the cover, I would want to give it a chance. I had no idea if anyone else would feel the same way.
Now there was only one thing left to wait for—the final edit. Would my story even still be my story when I received it back?
I tried to lose myself in a movie. I tried to get wrapped up in a new blog post. I tried everything I could to take my mind off my book being on the chopping block. I even texted with Max in an attempt to keep myself calm.
Are we still on for tomorrow?
Are you ready to tell me what we’re celebrating?
Not yet.
I’ll be there.
I’m taking you to a fancy restaurant, so you’ll have to try not to embarrass me.
Me embarrass you? Let’s hope they have sippy cups.
Ha ha.
Are you going to get all dolled up?
For you? Of course.
Can’t wait.
By the time I finished the conversation my mind was still on the book.
I forced myself to eat some dinner. I straightened and re-straightened my living room. I began reading over the book and picking out parts that I was sure she would cut out completely. It was nearly eight o’clock when my phone rang. I picked it up, expecting it to be Max, as he was one of the few people to call me later in the evening
.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is this Samantha?”
“Yes it is.” I grimaced as I wondered if I had just answered a sales call. I was usually very careful about not doing that.
“This is Tonya, I just finished going over your book.”
My heart dropped. I wasn’t expecting her to finish so fast.
“Oh, really? Thank you.”
“It was my pleasure. Really. I’m excited about what you’ve created here. I did change a few things, but nothing to do with the story. I think that it’s ready to publish. I’ve sent the edited file back to you. Please let me know when it’s available for purchase. I have a few friends who I’m sure would love to read it.”
“Wow, thanks so much. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that.”
“Just remember, get it out there—no second guessing.”
“I will.”
I hung up the phone and headed straight for my computer. When I checked my e-mail I saw that I had a file waiting for me. I opened it up and began to read it over. As I did, I noticed some of the changes that she’d made. I expected to be defensive or offended, but instead I was surprised. The subtle shifts in text and sentence structure she’d made caused the entire story to flow much better. I was very glad that I’d listened to Estrella and had someone edit it before publishing it.
I knew that now it was ready for publishing. There was only one more step. To actually put it out there. I wasn’t sure if I was really going to be brave enough to do it.
I decided to wait until the morning, so that I would have a fresh mind while selecting all of the options on the website.
As I headed for bed, I felt as if my dream was coming true.
Zara was soon going to be not just my personal hero, but a hero to many.
Chapter 9
First thing the next morning I put the final touches on the book, formatted it, added the cover, and submitted it as an e-book. I did it all without stopping to think about it. I knew that if I did, I would come up with a million reasons not to go through with it.
When I clicked the button, I felt as if I was now on the Internet completely naked. Okay, maybe not quite that exposed, but close enough.
Now my words would be out there for anyone to read. It wasn’t the same as the blog that only a few people would stumble upon. This was a book that represented my most intimate feelings and my secret fantasies. It was everything I held inside and everything that I was afraid of expressing. I had no idea if anyone would really read it, but I did know that I couldn’t hide from the truth any longer.
Zara was my inner self, breaking free from all the limitations that I’d imposed upon myself. She was going to take the world by storm, while I did my best to hide behind my computer.
I remembered what Blue had said about not allowing myself to disappear.
I picked up my phone and sent Max a text to confirm our dinner plans, then I went shopping. I bought myself a brand new dress for the occasion. It wasn’t quite what Zara would wear, but it was much bolder than what I usually wore. It was strapless with a low-cut snug bodice and a slimming skirt.
I could see places where I felt my imperfection showed, but instead of criticizing that, I focused on the areas of my body that had changed so much with my new diet plan. I had made so much progress and my body had already changed quite a bit. I was looking forward to how it would continue to change along my weight-loss journey.
But as of that moment, I was going to love my body as it was. I was going to show it off with pride.
After a light lunch so as to give myself the freedom to indulge at dinner, I spent some time on my hair and make-up. I didn’t often take so much time to get ready, but it was a special occasion.
Not long after, Max texted me to let me know he was on his way. I decided to meet him outside. I knew that if I waited inside I might chicken out and change my clothes. More than once in the past, I’d scrubbed off all of my make-up before walking out the door because of feeling insecure.
Max pulled up into the parking lot with his radio blaring. I smiled at the sound. We’d spent many days just rolling through the city listening to good music and sharing our stories. Max was the kind of person I could be comfortable around, no matter what. That was something I treasured above all else.
I walked toward the car as he parked, and he stepped out of the car to greet me.
“Wow.” He swept his gaze with great appreciation over the outfit I had chosen.
I knew that it revealed more than he was used to seeing.
“You look fantastic, Sammy.” He met my eyes and I felt a wave of warmth and excitement wash over me.
“Thanks. You look nice too.” I nodded toward his dark blue thin pinstriped suit and the navy button-down shirt he wore underneath it. “It’s definitely your color.”
“Do you think? Someone picked it out for me.” He opened the passenger door for me.
I tried not to feel a pang of jealousy as I wondered who might have picked it out. I reminded myself I had no right to stake a claim on Max.
I sat down in the car and was immersed in music. It was a nice feeling. When Max pulled out of the parking lot I felt a sense of freedom being out and away from everything. Spending time with Max was one of the few ways I truly relaxed.
“So where are we headed?” Max asked.
“La Villita.” I smiled. “I made reservations.”
“La Villita? They have a wine menu!” Max grinned. “Fancy.”
“I told you, we’re celebrating.” I looked out the window at the passing buildings. It was unreal to me that there was so much changing in my life, but it all felt like very good things.
“Are you going to tell me what we’re celebrating yet?” Max glanced over at me.
“Not just yet.”
He nodded and fell back into silence. I knew that he was dying to find out, but he had enough self-control to allow me my surprise.
It was rather crowded when we walked into the restaurant. I was glad I’d made a reservation.
The waitress led us to the table and handed us our wine menus along with regular menus.
“You pick the wine, Max.”
“Me? But it’s your celebration.”
“I trust your taste.”
“Hm, in that case I’ll go for the most expensive kind.”
“Whatever you desire!” I laughed. Then I looked at the menu. I gulped at the large prices. “Okay, well, maybe whatever you desire under one hundred dollars.”
Max grinned. “Don’t worry, you know I’m a cheap date.”
After we had ordered our food, Max stared steadily at me. I tried to engage him in small talk.
“How was work this week?”
“Boring.”
“How is your mom doing?”
“I have to call her.”
“Did you see that new show on Netflix?”
“Sammy!” He looked at me with exasperation.
“What?” I asked with an innocent expression.
“What exactly are we celebrating?” Max looked across the table at me.
I could see that he was dying to know why I had invited him out to dinner.
Chapter 10
I didn’t want to tell Max just yet. I wanted to prolong the anticipation and the enjoyment of watching him squirm.
“An achievement.” I smiled. “I think it’s something that you will be surprised by.”
“I know if it’s anything that you’ve done, I’ll be proud of you.” Max pushed his chicken across his plate. He swirled it through the sauce. “So why not just tell me?”
“I will, I will.”
I sat back and watched as he took the last bite of his chicken. All through dinner I had been trying to think of how to reveal my big surprise. Now that I was running out of time the pressure was on.
“Sammy?” He met my eyes. “Tell me.”
“How about if I show you?” I smiled.
“What is it?” He leaned forward.
> “I want you to see this book that I think you’ll like.” I began pulling up the website on my phone.
“A book?” He looked at me grimly. “All of this is about some book?”
“Here, take a look at it.” I handed him the phone.
He took it with a look of disappointment.
“Becoming Zara.” He scrunched up his nose. “Is this going to be a romance?”
“Maybe.” I smiled. I was waiting for him to see it.
“Wait a minute.” His eyes widened. Then he looked up from the phone to me. “Did you write this? Is this your book?”
“It is.” I smiled proudly. “That’s why I haven’t been in touch much lately. I was finishing it up and getting it ready to publish.”
“I can’t believe this!”
His wide grin warmed my heart. I could see just how happy he was for me.
“Believe it. I did it.” I smiled.
“Just when I didn’t think you could get any more amazing, you go and prove me wrong.” He raised his glass of wine.
I raised mine as well and we toasted the new book.
“What an amazing day for you, Sammy.” He smiled warmly at me.
It was amazing. Not only did I have a book to celebrate, I had a priceless friendship to enjoy. Life couldn’t get much better. At least that was what I thought, until the waitress brought me out the most decadent cupcake I’d ever seen. There was even a tiny pink candle in it.
“There must be some mistake.” I shook my head.
“The gentleman requested it.” The waitress smiled at Max.
“You did?” I looked at him with surprise.
“You said it was a celebration.” He winked at me.
“I love you, Max!”
“Do you love me enough to share it with me?” He picked up his fork.
“I don’t know about that.” I teased. Then I popped a bit of cupcake into his mouth.
As we dined on our delicious desert I knew that this really was the first day of a new chapter in my life.
Later, when Max dropped me off at my apartment, I thought about taking a daring step with him. I’d done so much to break out of my comfort zone already, that I thought maybe I could handle going a little further.
Single Wide Female: The Bucket List Mega Bundle - 24 Books (Books #1-24) Page 53