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Post by abby on Apr 10, 2011 23:46:55 GMT -5
Abigail J. Lane as she was known as to the public sat in the back of the Borders at the mall, sitting at the table provided with a pen handy, ready to sign books for all of her fans. She loved book signings though, and meeting all of her fans and getting complements on her books. Normally she didn’t like attention, but this was different for some reason, she could just smile all day and get hand cramps.
One by one her adoring fan came up, holding her latest book that they recently purchased, jittering as they waited for her to personally sign their hard-copy book. ”Hello dolly,” she greeted one of her fans who had finally reached the front of the line and could finally get their book signed. The girl smiled back at Abby and sad hello. ”And who shall I make this out to?’ Abby asked with a smile plastered on her face. The fan said her name was Nora, and Abigail complimented it before opening up the cover of the book and writing. To Nora, best of my love, xoxo, Abigail G. Lane,” with a heart after it. It was in cursive, though she tried to make it legible and good penmanship.
Abby wore a black, white, and blue abstract-patterned silk tunic top, tucked into a tight pencil skirt. The skirt itself went about mid thigh, perfect for the book signing. She wore black patent leather pumps; not too high or low.
Another person came up to the table, waiting with a book for her to sign away at. She wrote the same message, but addressed to a different person. She smiled to her fan as she waved goodbye and the next person came up. Most the people in line were girls, though some boyfriends or husbands could be seen in the crowd. Abby couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for a guy, but then thought that it was sweet of him to wait in line with his girlfriend and go through all the trouble.
The manager of the store came up, explaining that Abigail J. Lane needed to go on break and that she would return in ten minutes. Abby then stood up, did a three finger wave to her adoring fans, and walked to the back of the store where a bottle of water and a cliff bar was placed. She drowned the water, and then ate one third of the cliff bar before doing finger exercises. She told the manager that she was ready, and then returned to the table, signing away at more books.
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Post by dallas on Apr 11, 2011 0:47:43 GMT -5
Dallas walked into the bookstore and looked around. He'd really been craving to read up on more Edgar Allen Poe poetry. Maybe it was subconsciously to impress the girl he'd just met, but he really did love Edgar Allen Poe. He stopped in his track's though, as a gratuitous line of drooling boys and giggling girls who all appeared to be clutching the same novel completely blocked off his path.
Dallas mentally smacked himself, he'd forgotten that he'd seen a sign for some author meet and greet today being held at Borders. Oh well, he would have to squeeze his way through anyway, since he'd come all the way here already.
"Excuse me, excuse me, I just need to get through here, promise I'm not cutting!" Dallas called out, trying to be polite while really stamping on peoples toes and elbowing others out of the way. He made his way to the poetry section, glancing back only for a split second to see blond hair mopped over a book of a giggling girl,clearly signing it.
He grabbed a three books, two hard cover and one soft. Two were indeed Edgar Allen Poe poetry books, and the other was a book on random writing prompts. He'd been stuck in a rut with his stories lately, and he needed to fix that. Sitting at a table as far away from the commotion as possible, he decided he'd better try the book before he bought it.
Always prepared, he pulled the notebook and a pen that was all chewed up at the end out of his laptop bag. Sure, he could just type...but he liked the feeling of writing something out longhand. He felt more free to edit it. But before he even flipped the page open, another book sitting in the middle of his table caught his eye. There was an add on top of it, clearly noting that this was the book being signed today. Curious, he grabbed the story and began to thumb through a few pages.
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Post by abby on Apr 11, 2011 1:02:36 GMT -5
Abigail did a few finger exercises between signing books, as her hand and fingers began to cramp. By now she should be used to it, since she normally hand writes the chapters of her novels before typing it. Though, each chapter takes hours upon hours to write, so it wasn’t like getting cramps all at once.
”Thank you sweetie,” she said politely to the tween girl who had read her book. Abby tried to look at how long the line was without anyone noticing, just moving her eyes, but it was hard to tell. As far as she was concerned it was just an endless line.
A never-been-opened bottle of water was placed in front of her, compliments of Borders. She opened it as the next fan walked up to the table, taking a short sip to keep herself hydrated. She keep signing book after book, smiling at her fans, and really having fun. Abby was so touched that this many people had read her book, and this was just in a little chunk of Los Angeles. It was so nice to know that people actually liked her book and style of writing.
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Post by dallas on Apr 11, 2011 9:45:49 GMT -5
Though Dallas was never one to get star struck, he was pretty impressed with the first few chapters of girls book. Hesitantly at first, he grabbed the book and walked to the line where a group of people were waiting to get their novels autographed. There was far less people now then there had been originally, so it must be either getting close to the end of the signing, or the author was planning on taking a break soon.
He might not get star struck, but he was not stupid enough to not recognize good literature, and this book deserved to be signed, since the author was here anyway. He'd read the short "about the author" section, and was thoroughly impressed that she was only 21 but had a very steady career start- two books on the New York Times best sellers list. It gave him a little hope that maybe if he ever finally finished one of the 30 novels he'd started, that maybe he could get published young too.
He'd finally reached the front of the line, and he held the book out to the blond haired author who was quite pretty. Most young authors, if they made it big, looked half starved and wore ragged clothes, the whole "starving artist" look. On the contrary, she was quite put together, looking very professional indeed. "It's refreshing to see someone young, and seemingly normal, signing a book here. Usually they only get a cluster of old geysers or 40 year old women who write about perfect romances to sign here." Dallas smiled as he held the book to her, waiting for her to take it and sign away.
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Post by abby on Apr 11, 2011 23:15:54 GMT -5
Abigail kept scribbling her name on each of her books; most of the books had never been opened. She smiled for the pictures, the flash on and making her eyes go buggy. She tried to really smile, but it was hard to do on command, so most the time it was a fake smile she practiced that looked at least semi-natural.
The line was dying down, which was a good sign because she could go home soon and relax in her hammock and read a book. The next person to come up was a guy, around her age. It was odd though, as he wasn’t with a girlfriend or anything, just himself. Abby listened as this guy spoke about how he was thankful that she wasn’t an old lady, and seemed normal. In all it was a backwards compliment.
Abby reached for the book and gripped it in her hand before placing it on the table in front of her and opening the front cover. ”Oh, well thank you for coming. I sure hope I’m normal, but I get what you’re talking about. I mean, my book is a modern romance, but no Romeo and Juliet, that’s for sure.” she smiled, as she began to write “to” before noticing she didn’t know his name. ”Oh, and who shall I make this out to?” she asked, waiting for him to respond. In the mean time she wrote a nice little message and signed her name. ”I can’t believe you read my book,” she blushed, honored that a guy actually took the time to read it.
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Post by dallas on Apr 11, 2011 23:52:17 GMT -5
Dallas glanced at the words she was scribbling on the page, before saying "My name is Dallas. It's kind of a big deal to draw me into a romance novel, you know, but I really like your writing style. Detailed, but without over complicating things." He loved writing, it was his true passion in life, and he tended to get along with most anyone who shared this passion.
"You should be proud, because like I said, I'm not normally one for a romance novel, but somehow you drew me in." Dallas noted that she had nice handwriting, unlike his. "And it says in the about me you write everything out long hand first, which is exactly what do." He loved that it was so easy to edit his work while using just a pen and notebook. He could see his original work, and his edits, and the edits of his edits. He appreciated that she too, could apparently see the logic behind his madness. People often laughed at him for not just typing up his work first thing.
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Post by abby on Apr 12, 2011 0:25:22 GMT -5
Abby nodded when he said that his name was Dallas, as in Dallas, Texas. ”Well I for one am happy you liked it,” she said, looking down to finish writing the message. It read: To Dallas, finally a guy who has enough sense to read a modern romance novel. It really is an honor that a guy actually read my book without anyone forcing you to. (So I hope). Xoxo, Abigail G. Lane. she finished; looking at her handwriting to make sure it was legible. It was very girly cursive, but it looked good. ”Here,” she said, handing him back the book. There were only five people left in line, but she wanted to keep talking to this Dallas guy.
”Yeah, there’s something calming about writing my novel first. I mean, I save everything; I never crumple up a single paper. I’m glad someone else does it that way. Everyone does it on the computer, but it’s harder to edit, at least for me.” she smiled; happy someone else in the large world did it the old fashioned way. ”Would you mind staying after for a couple of minutes?” Abby asked, wanting to talk about why on earth he picked up her book in the first place. The next person in line looked egger to get her signature, but she was having a nice chat with Dallas.
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Post by dallas on Apr 12, 2011 9:35:05 GMT -5
Grabbing the book from her hands, he quickly read what she wrote. He thought for a moment that it was quite nice of her to personalize the message in his book, and he wondered if she did that to every single book. That was a lot of "thank you's" to come up with all in one day. Glancing towards the line behind him, he realized tat the other people in line were now quickly losing patience.
Stepping to the side, he commented "I only give credit where it's due. And sure, I'll wait. I'm going to sit over at that table back there for now." Dallas pointed to the table that was covered in his pens, notebooks, and Edgar Allen Poe poetry. Giving her a small wave, he walked away from the noisy, restless crowd and sat down at the table he'd been at. He was a quick reader, and he'd already read the first few chapters of her book, so he picked up from chapter 5 where he'd left off, and waited patiently to talk to the budding author.
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Post by abby on Apr 13, 2011 3:04:21 GMT -5
Abby beamed inside when Dallas agreed to chat with her after she signed books for the last of her fans still waiting in line, growing impatient. She motioned for the next person to come up in line, and then greeted when with a friendly smile as she asked for their name and signed away, looping letter after letter as she did her fine cursive. She posed for the last couple of pictures and finally she had gone through everyone in line, what a relief.
It was finally over and she could do whatever she liked now. Slowly she got up, pushed back her chair, then politely pushed it back in, and walked over to the table where she Dallas. He was seated by Edgar Allen Poe books of poetry and some pens. She gave him a three-finger wave back as she sat down at the table next to him. ”Thanks for staying after,” she said, as he probably had better things to do then talk to her. ”So, I have to ask, what drew you into the book? I want to get a male audience, but as you could probably tell it’s not working…” she said, looking at her charcoal black painted fingernails. Abby really wanted to get a male audience, but it was easier said than done.
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Post by dallas on Apr 13, 2011 21:23:35 GMT -5
Dallas set the book down as the author strode up to his table and sat down. He thought about her question for a second, before responding. "Well, I appreciate the female lead a little more than I do in most romance novels. She's obviously described as pretty, but you don't spend ten pages describing how she's doing her makeup, or what dress she's wearing, or the giddy feeling boys give her. She seems down to earth and laid back, so I guess I relate to her character a bit." He paused for a second, thinking once more.
"I also like that she's not a mary-sue. From what I've read, when she makes mistakes, she fesses up to them and deals with the consequences. And she's far from perfect, like all of us, but she embraces it instead of hiding her imperfections." Dallas smiled over at her, his favorite part about her writing was the way she made characters seem more real. No one in this world can be perfect, not even a character written about in a novel.
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Post by abby on Apr 14, 2011 0:05:58 GMT -5
It seemed that Dallas hadn’t read the whole book, but it was still sweet that he had read some of it. Abby placed her hands together as she listened to his thoughts on the book, mostly talking about the characters. ”Yeah, I try not to make my characters fugly sluts,” she giggled, quoting from the Burn Book in Mean Girls. She normally tried to not swear, but all she was doing was quoting. ”But thank you, I just want to know how you can relate if you don’t mind me asking,” she asked, wanting to know how he was like the man character in the book, even though she was a girl and he was a boy.
”Mary-sues aren’t my thing, but sometimes I make them, just for fun,” she confessed, thinking of all the sue’s she had made. She would make them the popular cheerleader who dated the quarterback and everyone had a crush on. It was quite entertaining for her to make, as it was the girl she was always jealous of in high school, even if the girl was a bitch. She agreed with Dallas that not everyone could be perfect, because if they tried they would fail miserably.
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Post by dallas on Apr 14, 2011 10:29:47 GMT -5
He laughed hard when she made the 'fugly sluts' reference, he liked her openness and that she seemed to be unafraid of being herself. Dallas thought about Abby's question for a second, really thinking about his connections with the female lead character of her novel. "I guess, I find myself constantly comparing myself to her. Other than little details, we have very similar personalities. She doesn't make a huge fuss when something goes wrong, she stay's calm and collected, and works out a solution. I'd like to think that that's exactly what I do, while others get frustrated or panicked when things aren't perfect. I love that she seems so down to earth, she's not living in a fantasy land about perfect romances like most female leads are in love stories. She wasn't something real, something that's wonderful because of it's imperfections." He paused for a second, jotting something down in his notebook before continuing.
"I also appreciate that she's willing to work hard at her relationships. I hate when everything is too easy for a character, it's unrealistic. I mean, my life is far from perfect, why would I want to read a story about someone who has a perfect life, and has everything handed to her?" Dallas finished with his rant, finally. Again, he laughed at her mary-sue comment.
"I think that all writer's secretly get a kick out of making perfect characters though. I know I do." Dallas laughed, remembering all the gary and mary sues he'd created in his time. He especially love his character Ricky, a bad boy on the outside, but perfect angel on the inside. He gets the girl, kicks some ass, and doesn't even break a sweat while he does it.
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Post by abby on Apr 14, 2011 18:21:18 GMT -5
Abby appreciated Dallas’s critique, which was really sweet, without a single negative comment slipping out his mouth. Inside her head she could think of lots of different things that she wished she had changed in the book, but Abby was going to keep her mouth quite about that. ”Thank you, your critique means a lot to me,” she gushed with a toothy smile growing on her face.
”In a way, I made my character like me. I mean, between you and me, relationships don’t come easy for me,” she said, biting her bottom lip as she stared at the wood panels of the table. She traced her finger along the side of the panel and then traced it back toward her.
Abby was happy that she wasn’t the only one who made perfect characters; it was fun for writers of all genres to create. She smiled at him and laughed as a way to agree with that everyone got a kick out of making them. Maybe her next book would be a list of all the sues she had made, as the list was long enough to create a book out of it.
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Post by dallas on Apr 14, 2011 21:29:15 GMT -5
Dallas was jotting things down in his notebook once every few minutes while he spoke. He always did this, wrote down parts of conversations, or tidbits of thought as he was talking. He probably enjoyed it so much because once in a while he would write down something that really stuck with him, and he would put it in his newest novel, or a short story.
"Well, unfortunately I don't think relationships for people our age are ever easy. We tend to over complicate things, and jump to conclusions." Dallas gave her a small grin. "And now I have a question for you. How is it that you got a publishing deal like this at such a small age? I mean, your not exactly writing for a small name company here. How'd that happen?" He wasn't trying to pry any secrets out of her, he was only curious.
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Post by abby on Apr 14, 2011 21:43:16 GMT -5
Abby watched as Dallas scribbled down notes into his little compact journal everyone couple of minutes; she couldn’t help but wonder what he could be recording. ”What are you doing?” she asked, trying to sneak a peak of what he was jotting down. It was a big mystery, but yet it seemed to be a good idea at the same time, but it would probably be a better idea if she had a clue to what he was writing down.
”Exactly, what’s wrong with the world today?” Abigail asked, looking up to the ceiling as if a sticky note with the answer could appear there. Of course there was nothing but white paint that coated the ceiling. She looked back at Dallas as he asked her a question. She had to stop and think about this one, as she had been asked it before, but it was sort of a hard thing to explain.
”Well, I grew up reading all the time. My recess was spent with my nose stuck in the book, and after a couple of years I started to appreciate different styles of writing. When we had time in class to write our own stories I jumped at it, and I really started to like writing. I kept up with it, wrote journals, ect. I grew up living in New York City, New York, and I would sometimes skip class to go to the bookstore if my favorite author was in town, But that is between you and me mister,” she paused, letting him absorb all the facts she had given like sponge. ”As I was saying, I would sneak out and go to the lectures and get my booked signed. I would stay afterward like you’re currently doing, and ask them questions like this about how they started. It fascinated me, their answers and history. So when college time rolled around I went in for journalism, as it was the closest thing to writing. I wrote a book during my four years there, L.A. Candy,” the one I am currently promoting. So, when I finished college I sent it to a publisher who really like it and I was hooked. Apparently the New York Times liked it too,” Abby finished, swallowing her saliva.
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