Reaching Out to the Stars

by Donna DeMaio Hunt

  I am excited about this project and have been querying agents since November of ’08. As I am happy to say that my work is being reviewed by a literary agency, I am hoping that you would support my project as well upon representation and possible publication.

  As I have always admired you as my favorite American Idol, you have been an inspiration to me in more ways than one. I am hoping for your support in putting in a good word, as I know you understand what it is like for an ordinary person to fulfill a dream.

  Dear Paula,

  I have been a fan of yours since childhood and have also been a fan of American Idol since 2003.

  As I have been inspired by this show, I have also been inspired by some of its popular contestants.

  As a devoted fan of Clay Aiken, I began to grapple with the reality of the relationship between celebrities and their fans after three unanswered fan letters. As the frustration and mystery of it all consumed me, I began writing a book called Reaching Out to the Stars: American Idol Dreams. I was able to complete my book upon the close of Season Seven when I was won over by fourth place runner up Jason Castro.

  As I am excited about the completion of this project, I have been looking for representation since November of ’08. As I am happy to say that my work is being reviewed by a literary agency, I am hoping that you would support my project as well upon possible representation and publication.

  You have always inspired me to follow my dreams as you often inspire the contestants of American Idol. I was recently told by an agent that persistence leads to success. As I am anxious to fulfill and keep my dreams alive, still I keep reaching out to the stars.

  Again, in hopes for some kind of response, I am still waiting.

  With frustration and great persistence, I began to type a new article that I thought I may submit to a local paper.

  If You’re Not A Celebrity……Who Cares???

  American Idol, Season Seven, Top 24, who am I? I am not a celebrity, but just a fan that experienced a romantic encounter with 4th place runner up Jason Castro…and then I woke up. Haven’t we all had that dream before about that one celebrity who makes us a little weak in the knees.

  The truth is, we live in a different world. If you’re not a celebrity then who cares! As a child I always dreamed of being famous, as we all probably have at some time in our lives. As I grew older I wondered if that type of lifestyle that we long for was even a happy one. Just lately

  I finished writing a personal memoir about being a fan and thought, I may not be a star or even want the life of one, but maybe I could be a published author and write about my dreams, my personal obsessions and my passions regarding music.

  I then realized, are you kidding me? It is just as hard to become a published author as it is to become a well-known star. Why is it that nobody wants to hear the real life stories and experiences inside the world of fandom? After all, without the fan, there would be no star.

  I have been querying agents since November. I have had a lot of positive feedback including two requests for my manuscript and still no action. I even had one agent respond to me that “Unless you are famous, memoirs are hard.” Now if that doesn’t prove my point, then what does?

  Once again, I started to become discouraged. Although there were pieces of me that wanted to just give up on my dream, a bigger part of me felt that the more that my voice was not heard, the more persistent I would become on being able to reach for the stars, even though they just may be unreachable. It has never been in my character to give up. Hopefully, that will get me somewhere someday. If you’re reading my book, then my persistence paid off.

  Chapter 17

  A “King” Is Lost but Never Forgotten

  Three months ago, Bryce and I sat watching American Idol during Michael Jackson week. As the show began and they showed a clip, our eyes were fixated on the television as we both got goose bumps up and down our spine. As soon as it ended, Bryce and I looked at each other and said, “Do you remember that?”

  On June 25th we were celebrating Faith’s third birthday. We were sitting on the deck having a cookout with my mom and dad, David and the kids. The kids quickly left the table to play on the swings.

  My dad had come from a golf game and said, “Hey, did you hear that Michael Jackson died?” We all looked at each other and laughed as we thought it was another one of my father’s far-fetched jokes.

  He said, “No, I’m not joking, I’m serious.”

  I said, “Dad, if that was true it would be all over the media because that would be huge.” David actually started yelling at him, as he usually does when he starts to get upset. “That isn’t even funny, Dad. You shouldn’t even joke about things like that.”

  I looked up as Bryce returned to the table, not even knowing that he had left, being so caught up in the conversation. As he sat down, he said, “It’s true, I just looked it up online.” I dropped my fork. I can’t even explain the feeling that went through me. I kept saying, “Are you kidding me, are you kidding me?” I could not even eat the rest of my meal. I could tell that David was upset, too. I was not prepared for the huge effect this was going to have on me as a fan and as an individual.

  Michael Jackson was a huge part of our childhood. I watched news coverage that night and I was still in shock.

  When I woke the next morning, I tuned directly to all of the popular news channels. In five years, I have never started my morning off with anything but PBS Kids. For some reason, I could not tear myself away from the coverage all day.

  Memories started flowing through my mind as I watched clips of Michael through the years. I remember like it was yesterday the year Michael Jackson won eleven Grammy awards after Thriller was released. The red or blue glittery jacket with the sequined glove and his soft, high pitch voice quickly came to mind. I remember how big the making of Thriller was back then.

  Finally, I called my mom at work. When she answered the phone, I started to get weepy. She asked me what was wrong. I replied, “I know it sounds crazy but I am so upset about Michael Jackson. I can’t stop watching it on television and I keep crying. Is this normal?” She then said in a soothing and understanding voice, “Yes, it is normal. We all did the same thing when Elvis died. Your Michael Jackson is our Elvis.”

  As I hung up the phone, I felt a little relieved to hear my mom say that it was alright to feel as I was feeling. I then began to play my Michael Jackson CDs and as a tribute to the King of Pop, I danced and sang with my children. I listened to nonstop Michael until it was time to go to bed. It made me feel so much better.

  The death of Michael Jackson has made an impact on me in many ways. This terrible tragedy started my endless thinking again. The morning of the 26th of June, as I tuned into The Today Show, I remembered Matt Lauer briefly talking with a woman who they immediately cut short. She was bashing Michael Jackson and I remembered her saying that Michael was obsessed with fame.

  Matt Lauer quickly shot back at her with the words, “Was he obsessed with it or was he a victim of it?”

  Thinking back on that interview, I was a bit angry.

  We as children grow up with idols like Michael Jackson. We look up to them, want to be like them and we cherish the art of the music they bring into our lives that we will never forget. They become a part of us. Artists such as MJ are born with a God given talent that gives us the joy of being able to know it and love it. We think that being famous is a great thing and as children and even as adults, sometimes we don’t understand it.

  Even though Michael loved being a performer, that is all he knew about life. He did not have a choice. He would never know what it is to have a normal life any more than most of us will know what it is like to walk a day in his shoes. Sometimes I feel like someone of his legacy almost makes a sacrifice to deliver an incredible artistry to all mankind.

  We have normal everyday lives and even though we all think that dream, we can somehow live it through them. In a reverse situation, sometimes I think that Michael’s other
passion was to help children to appreciate their childhood, as he never had a normal one of his own.

  Unfortunately, labeled as strange, it’s too bad that a lot of people forget about all the good he did as a human being along with his talent just because of false accusations that some people chose to believe.

  Maybe experiencing the life of a fan, we would like to keep our normalcy but be a little more like them. Maybe they would like to continue their careers as artists and to be a little more like us, unless wanting what we can’t have is just part of being human.

  With regard to a life of fame as opposed to a life of normalcy, I think I should start to be more thankful for what I have. At least when I am sporting a headset while playing Karaoke Play Station and drooling over my favorite Idol contestant, the only ones who can label me as strange are my family and friends. I’m not a celebrity and I don’t care.

  Michael Jackson has left an imprint in my heart forever, not only as a legendary artist, but also as a human being.

  Chapter 18

  Mohegan Sun

  It is July 30th, 2009 and I can’t believe that Bryce and I are going to be celebrating our tenth Anniversary. As we never get away with the kids, we originally had thought for our tenth that we would go back to New York City. Laney had even offered to hook us up with an awesome place. We had been looking forward to it. The only problem was, we should have known from the get go that it was not going to happen.

  We have children who do not sleep! Therefore, nobody was jumping off the edge of their seats to take them for an overnight. We had pretty much given up when my friend Katie had offered to stay with the kids here at the house with her two kids. Katie and I met a year ago when Ethan started preschool at age three. Her son, John, and Ethan were in the same class.

  Ethan was definitely suffering from some major separation anxiety. I don’t know who took it worse, Ethan or me. So far, one of the hardest experiences for me as a mother was my son crying, “Mommy don’t go” and having to turn my back and walk away from him. I’m not sure who cried harder. So when the year ended, Katie called me over the summer to get the boys together. They ended up being friends and so did we. She also had a daughter, Avery, who was only a year younger than Faith.

  I was unsure at first whether to take her up on her offer. I had nothing but complete trust but did not want to leave her with a possible nightmare. As New York seemed a little far for us to be away from the kids, in case we were needed back home, we settled for a night at Mohegan Sun which was only one hour away. Although it was not New York, it was a lot of fun.

  When we said goodbye to the kids, they seemed excited about their sleepover. I had bought them new sleeping bags and tried to talk it up a lot. As I knew I would miss them, I was also looking forward to a night amongst adults.

  As we entered into the valet parking lot at the casino, the attendant took our car and we entered the hotel lobby. I had been to Mohegan only two other times, Clay Aiken and Clay Aiken. I was admiring the atmosphere like it was my first time there, and my heart started to grow with excitement.

  We made our way to the check in counter and got the keys to our room, on the seventh floor. We had never stayed overnight so we were not really sure what to expect. As we got into the elevator, I held on to Bryce as if I was jumping out of a helicopter. Anyone who knows me well would probably be surprised that I did not walk up seven flights of stairs. I again recalled when we took our trip to New York City. Uncle Tony teased me about my fear of elevators. Each time we entered and exited our hotel, I would turn as white as a sheet.

  The elevator doors finally opened on the seventh floor, which was in seconds that felt like hours, and we made our way down to our room. As we entered, we saw a small living area and thought, where do we sleep? We looked further and saw there was a bedroom that was separate off the living area with a walk in closet containing a safe and his and her bathrobes. Then we made our way to this amazing bathroom.

  Looking straight into the bathroom from the doorway was a huge glass shower stall, the toilet tucked in its own private area to the left of the stall. Upon entering, on the right was a double sink vanity and on the left a jetted tub with a full paned, one way view window overlooking the casino.

  When I looked at Bryce with my jaw dropped to the floor, it was like looking into a mirror because he looked the same way. I could not help but feel somewhat important, and then I thought, is this how they live times one million? It then, at that moment, hit me like a ton of bricks.

  I think I felt I had a glimpse into the life of a star for a second. Even though I am not a celebrity, having a little more than I was used to, it was all relevant. With how excited and happy I felt at that moment, I started to think that maybe just having a little more than we are used to every once in awhile was all it took. There was no need for a life of stardom. As a matter of fact, having the most you could possibly have every day in your life would probably get boring after awhile and then to what would you have to look forward? I think sometimes we lose appreciation for things when we get too spoiled. Maybe that is why it is also best to keep our favorite celebrities at an arm’s length and to be careful for what we wished.

  That night we won five hundred bucks on a slot machine. Bryce is the one who won it which was weird because I am usually the lucky one. He said he did not understand because he never wins anything, as he wore a smile from ear to ear. Then I noticed that he was also wearing Uncle Tony’s ring. I know that Uncle Tony was sitting on his shoulder that night. With that money, we paid for the repairs on our Chevy Blazer, the car that Aunt Carol and Uncle Tony had given us. Maybe he knew we needed a little help at that moment.

  We enjoyed ourselves that night, not turning in to bed until 2 a.m. I was a little worried about being too tired when we got home the next day where the great every day responsibilities awaited us. We drove home in buckets of rain and picked up the kids at Katie’s house. Faith greeted us with a smile but Ethan clearly had missed us as he got very emotional when we walked in. I think he was angry at us for leaving. He kept crying on the way home.

  Our next adventure out would be in a couple of weeks to see American Idols Live, Season Eight, in Boston on August 18th. Although it would not be an overnight, I knew Ethan would not be pleased. I thought it may just be best to leave the kids with my parents as we mostly did on the rare occasions when we would actually go somewhere. That is where the kids are most comfortable and that is who I am most comfortable leaving them with.

  Chapter 19

  Life Is What You Make It

  August 19, the day after another American Idol adventure, and I was off to record a new song at my brother’s house. David had agreed to let me record another song as long as I used my own karaoke music and he did not have to create any of the music for me. I had just found out prior to leaving home that Jason Castro was releasing a single from his new album that was still in the works.

  I drove and listened to “Light On” by David Cook, trying to learn the song that I was going to be recording in forty minutes. I also kept rewinding the night of the show in my head. It was like another experience that I was trying to keep alive through constant thought because I never wanted it to end.

  Bryce got home early the night of the concert so that I could shower and get ready for the show. He walked in the door at 3:30 and we were supposed to leave for Boston at 4:30. It did not quite work out as we planned.

  My parents were supposed to be over the house for 4:30 but got held up at the hospital where my dad was having a follow up appointment for his fractured shoulder which he got in a motorcycle accident in the beginning of July. The doctor was running three hours behind and they had called to say they would be late. At 4:35, I started to panic. I was getting anxious because I knew that if we did not leave by five we would miss the beginning of the show. After paing a large sum of money to get phenomenal seats, I really did not want to be late.

  I started to think about who the first two contestants were to be elimi
nated this season, who we would most likely miss. I was not concerned at all about missing Megan Joy but I did like Michael Sarver. Therefore, my goal was to get there on time. We had planned to eat before the show but then I thought, If we get there in time we could catch Michael and go eat while the horrific caw-calling girl performed.

  I had called my neighbor to see if there was any way she could come over with the kids until my parents arrived. As she too was on her way home, she said that she thought she would be able to get here to save us a little time. She showed up around 5:10 and we kissed the kids goodbye and hurried on our way.

  We began our drive to the Boston Garden, I was anxious to get there. I was really stressed out because I was in charge of reading the directions, and when you’re the directions manager on a trip to Boston, you need to be quick because anyone knows that if you miss a turn in Boston, holy shit, you are screwed.

  In college, I remember riding with my friend Jake in the Anna Maria College van to the Boston Art Museum for a field trip for our religion class senior year. We ended up taking a wrong turn and we were so lost that we didn’t get there until the tour was three quarters over.

  Forgive me my fellow Bostonians, but I have only been to New York City once in my life and could probably figure out my way there better than in my own capital city. There are seven million exits, all close together, tunnels everywhere surrounded by seven million one way streets and somehow, none of them are connected. It has to be the most confusing city ever and it is scary shit.

  I managed to get us to the Government Center garage in one piece. When we parked and walked out of the garage, Bryce and I looked at each other at the same time after looking around and had no clue where the Boston Garden even was. Flipping up the cell phone, the time read 6:48. We tried to ask the garage attendant directions but ‘no speaka da englas.’ I spotted some woman with a glittery American Idol t-shirt and as I grabbed Bryce I said softly, “Follow that woman…she knows the way.”