"So you'll let us know if you hear from Anne again?" Katie's mother asked as Katie and Eoin were on their way out the door, a Tupperware full of leftover pasta under his arm.
"As long as you tell Jason what's going on, and tell him to hold off on the divorce and custody and everything."
Her mother frowned, and started to say something, but Angela nodded. "We'll talk to him. But we can't guarantee anything."
"As long as you try." Katie hugged her aunt, and her mother. "That's all we can do. We have to keep trying."
Her mother nodded, and promised to talk to Jason. But as they made their way back to the subway, hands clasped tight, Katie and Eoin couldn't help but worry that once the tearful reunion was over, her mother wouldn't just turn right around and lose faith all over again.
***
"Err. Katie. There's someone here to see you." Natasha The Intern's voice was very hesitant over the phone.
Anne! Katie's heart leaped. "It's your brother in law?" Natasha said. "Jason? He'd like to see you?"
"Right." What did he want? "I'll be right out."
Katie closed her sketchbook, where she'd been working on some artwork for Rebecca's ad campaign, and went to find Jason.
"Jason!" Katie made her voice bright, cheerful. She was going to pretend this was a social call until he made her think otherwise. "What a nice surprise. Do you want to go get a coffee? There's a little cafe next door." He was sitting in the middle of the lobby's giant sofa, his hands clasped over his khaki-ed knees.
"No, I don't want a coffee." He glanced at Natasha, and stood up. "Can we go to your office? I'd like to talk with you privately."
"Oh, I don't have an office. It's an open-concept workspace."
Jason frowned. "Your mother told me you were some big deal hot-shot now. I would have thought you'd've gotten a door with your promotion, at least."
Katie never could figure out what Anne saw in this guy. She stayed quiet, waiting it out.
"Fine. We can go downstairs," Jason relented; Katie knew she'd be paying for the lattes.
They rode down in the elevator in silence. Katie contemplated asking him about Jonah, her nephew, who she hadn't seen in weeks. She thought he and Eoin might get along quite well, in that they had a shared love of Cheezies and breaking the rules.
Ten minutes later, Katie and Jason were sitting across from one another with a couple of lattes neither one of them particularly wanted.
"Okay. So what's going on?" Please please please let it be something good, thought Katie.
"I talked to your mother, Katie. She called me and asked me -- no, told me -- to suspend the divorce proceedings."
"She did?" Katie had asked her mother to contact Jason, to let him know how close they were to finding Anne, but she hadn't really thought she'd do it so soon. (Or at all.)
"She did. She told me that you've looking for Anne. She told me that you think you're 'close to finding her'." Jason did these annoying air quotes. "She told me that I needed to back off on the divorce and the full-custody stuff because Anne is a dog walker."
Wow. Her mother was totally on board. It was a miracle!
"She told you about Anne's job?"
"It's hardly a job," Jason snorted. "It's what teenaged girls do so they can buy cigarettes and concert tickets."
"Jason, I don't know why you're so upset about all of this. This is good news."
"No, it isn't. I had your parents on my side, Katie. They were going to write letters of support to the court, testifying that they believed their own daughter was unfit to raise Jonah. And now you're meddling in my business, and you've convinced your parents to back off!"
"What? That is not at all what happened."
"Then you tell me what did happen. How did your parents go from being one hundred percent behind me to totally pulling their support?"
"They are supporting you! They're supporting your marriage to their daughter! They're supporting your wife! They've finally seen sense, they want me to find her, they want her to --" Suddenly Katie stopped, stared at Jason, stared at his stupid navy blue pullover and his stupid gelled hair. "You don't want Anne to come back. You don't want us to find her." Katie felt herself shaking. "You're seeing someone else."
"What? That's crazy." Jason was turning red.
"You are. You've got a girlfriend, or something, and you want to marry her, you want to move her in to become Jonah's new mother, and you need Anne out of the picture." Katie, still shaking, stood up, held onto the table for support. "Tell me it's not true."
But Jason couldn't. He shook his head, he was speaking, but he wasn't denying it, not one bit. Instead he said things like, "It's not like that, the marriage would be over anyway, Anne and I haven't been right for a long time." And, "Sonya has her own kids, it's not like I'm replacing Anne, and she and Jonah really get along great," and "Please don't tell your parents, I don't want them to know, not yet," but Katie wasn't listening, instead she was walking out of the coffee shop and thinking about what she could do to get to Anne fast. No more of this waiting around -- it was time. Clearly Anne wasn't coming to Katie -- Katie had to go to her.
You Decide!
1. Katie heads back to the squatter's house, where she moves in and waits for Anne while living with the homeless.
OR
2. Katie borrows a dog from Mr. Ambrose so that she can arrange for Anne to walk it.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Chapter 38: In which Katie's Feelings About Her Blossoming Career Very Closely Mirror The Author's, and A Family Supper Is Attended
"Katie is telling you, Rebecca, that she's our Bansky. Katie Christensen is the artist you're looking for."
Rebecca narrowed her eyes at them. "Really? Do you have any proof?"
Katie pulled out her portfolio, and pushed it across to Rebecca, who spent ten minutes going through it. At the end she took the twisted beret from Katie's hands, and put it firmly on Katie's head.
"Bien sur," she said. "You are definitely une artiste!" And then she smiled, and Katie laughed, an honest, relieved laugh.
"So you're cool with this? With me?"
"Absolutely!" Rebecca was emphatic. "In fact, I was thinking this would take weeks to get off the ground. But now we can get right down to work. It's perfect!"
Four hours later Katie emerged from the meeting with an anxious tummy, a headache, and a feeling that life was finally starting. She was equal parts energized and nauseous, which Eoin assured her was the way she should be feeling.
"This is your first commission, Katie." Eoin squeezed her hand. She loved how he called what was essentially a work project a commission. "You should totally be freaked out."
"Well, I am that." Katie squeezed back, then slid into him as the subway took a sharp turn. They were on their way to her aunt's place to have supper with her and her mother. (Her father had taken Jonah, Anne's son, to a Blue Jay game.) She'd gotten a text as she was leaving work:
Having sup w yr aunt. u 2? bring Owen?
She could have bailed. She could have made up a lie, or she could have kept Eoin out of this. But she was finally feeling like she was getting her life together. "Plus, you get to show me off," Eoin had said, when she'd called to ask if he wanted to go with her. "It's about time."
She'd met him on the Bathurst subway platform; he was wearing a lime green hoodie with yellow jeans and paint-stained canvas sneakers. Yes, it was definitely time to show off this man who dressed like a stop light.
Her aunt was house-sitting a new place now, this one in North York. It was a condo, actually, and came with two geriatric dogs. "Welcome!" Angela flung open the door to the condo, and Katie and Eoin made their way inside. Angela hugged them both. From the sofa, Katie's mother gave a little wave, then stood up.
"Eoin. It's lovely to meet you. I've heard so much about you." As they shook hands, Katie racked her brain, trying to remember when she'd ever talked with her mother about Eoin. "From Katie's aunt." Her mother amended, jerking a thumb in Angela's direction. "My daughter tells me nothing."
"Right!" Katie clapped her hands together. "Anyone up for a drink?" She hefted a bottle of Irish whiskey. (Seriously, dating an Irishman meant you had your hostess gifts totally covered. No more hemming and hawing over what wine to pick up. As long as you brought Guiness or whiskey, you could do no wrong).
"Well, she's got lots to tell you tonight." Eoin guided Katie's mother back to the sofa, as Katie and Angela went to the kitchen to pour everyone a whiskey and soda.
"Well, isn't he just the most charming man?" Angela hip-checked her neice playfully.
"I know. He's kind of too perfect. I know he msut have flaws, but I can't really see them. Not yet."
"Then honey, you must be blind," said Angela, and they watched as Eoin unzipped his limegreen hoodie to reveal a shocking pink tshirt. "Because I don't know if I could last more than one date with someone who dressed like a bag of higlighters."
"I just wear sunglasses," Katie smiled, and hugged her aunt. "Honestly, Angela, I'm feeling really happy. Florescent boyfriend and all." And she was. For once. For finally.
* * *
"I've had some pretty good news about work," Katie started in during the fig and goat cheese tarts. "I've been given the opportunity to use some of my original artwork for a major client's ad campaign."
"But isn't that what your job is? To design ad campaigns? You often make the drawings." Though Katie hated to admit it, her mother asked a valid question.
"Yeah, kind of. But this is different. This is me making art I want to, instead of me making the art they ask of me. I have total creative control." Katie felt herself swell with pride, and Eoin clutched her hand under the table. "This is going to be just me, doing my thing."
"That's amazing, Katie. Well done," Aunt Angela clapped her hands together.
"Hmm." Her mother's voice was less enthusiastic. "And this is fine with your boss? This won't detract from your other responsibilities?"
"It's all fine." Katie assured her. "I swear it."
"So how did this come about?" Her mother sounded anxious. "You didn't go over anyone's head to get this ... opportunity ... did you?"
Katie quashed a feeling of irritation and smiled hard. "No, I didn't do anything remotely wrong." (Except for spray paint bridges. That nearly got me arrested. But only nearly!)
"So tell us about it. Tell us how it all came about," her mother pressed, and Katie took a deep breath.
"Okay. The thing is..." And Katie told them. About Anne. About her hunt for her sister, about the art she put up. She glossed over the spray-painting-on-bridges story but emphasized her widespread tackling of the city using art to get to Anne. "Eoin helped. But it was mostly me. And I think we might be closer to finding her. I think we might get her back soon." She told them about finding the house where Anne had been staying, about meeting her friend. "She says Anne's in AA. She says Anne is walking dogs for money."
At this the geriatric canines looked up from the carpet. It was the only action they'd had all night.
"Dogs!" Katie's mother scoffed. "Surely this isn't our Annie. She hates dogs." The geriatric dogs hung their heads.
"She hated dogs. Past tense. But now she's doing what she needs to do to come back. She's going to be fine."
"Oh, that's great news. What a good-news night we're having!" said Aunt Angela, but Katie's mother's frown only deepened.
"But you haven't actually seen her, or talked to her. You don't actually know if any of this is true. For all you know these other homeless people could be crazy, or on drugs. They could be talking about someone else."
Katie didn't have a response for her mother. She only sat and stared at her; next to her, she could tell Angela was gearing up for a response of her own.
It was Eoin (of course) who stepped in and stopped the fight that he knew was brewing inside her, inside all of them.
"I don't know Anne," he said, slowly. "I don't know any of you, really, except for Katie, and I'll admit I don't even know her that well. But I do know love. Sorry if this sounds corny, or whatever, but I do know what a family that loves one another looks like and that's you lot right here. You definitely love Anne, I know that. And Katie is only trying to bring you good news. So why would you reject it?"
He put a hand, a large, warm, art-callused hand over Katie's mother's. "I know it's scary. What if this isn't true? What if it isn't for keeps? What if this will all just fade away?"
Yes. Exactly. Katie felt this way about everything.
"It might. This might not be the answer. We might never find her --" Eoin paused as Katie's mother choked on a sob. "--We might never find her. But we will keep looking. We will do it together." Katie's mother started to cry, and Katie slid off her chair and went to her, holding her tight.
"I'm doing what I can, mum. And you have to believe me, I'm doing this for all of us. I can't just accept that she's gone."
"It would be easier if she were," her mother said.
"Maybe for you," Katie said, her anger rising again. "But not for me."
"It's not that I want her to be gone. I just think we'd get some peace if we could just...." She looked up at Katie. "Oh, Katie. I'm so ashamed. I'm a terrible mother."
"I wouldn't say terrible," Katie hugged her mother, hard. "Just a bit mixed up."
* * *
By the time they'd finished dessert, (and crying), all the details had been shared, including the story about the police station. "If I'm going to be honest, I have to be totally honest," Katie said.
"No more illegal activity," Katie's mother said.
"Of course," Katie said, at the same time Eoin shook his head and said, "We can't promise that."
"So you'll let us know if you hear from her again?" Katie's mother asked as Katie and Eoin were on their way out the door, a tupperware full of leftover pasta under his arm.
"As long as you tell Jason what's going on, and tell him to hold off on the divorce and custody and everything."
Her mother frowned, and started to say something, but Angela nodded. "We'll talk to him. But we can't guarantee anything."
"As long as you try." Katie hugged her aunt, and her mother. "That's all we can do. We have to keep trying."
Her mother nodded, and promised to talk to Jason. But as they made their way back to the subway, hands clasped tight, Katie and Eoin couldn't help but worry that once the tearful reunion was over, her mother wouldn't just turn right around and lose faith all over again.
You Decide!
1. Katie and Melissa have a meeting with their boss, Mr. Ambrose, about her project, and he's not so keen on their ideas.
or
2. Jason turns up at Katie's workplace, upset that she's meddling in his affairs by trying to track down Anne and stop the divorce.
Rebecca narrowed her eyes at them. "Really? Do you have any proof?"
Katie pulled out her portfolio, and pushed it across to Rebecca, who spent ten minutes going through it. At the end she took the twisted beret from Katie's hands, and put it firmly on Katie's head.
"Bien sur," she said. "You are definitely une artiste!" And then she smiled, and Katie laughed, an honest, relieved laugh.
"So you're cool with this? With me?"
"Absolutely!" Rebecca was emphatic. "In fact, I was thinking this would take weeks to get off the ground. But now we can get right down to work. It's perfect!"
Four hours later Katie emerged from the meeting with an anxious tummy, a headache, and a feeling that life was finally starting. She was equal parts energized and nauseous, which Eoin assured her was the way she should be feeling.
"This is your first commission, Katie." Eoin squeezed her hand. She loved how he called what was essentially a work project a commission. "You should totally be freaked out."
"Well, I am that." Katie squeezed back, then slid into him as the subway took a sharp turn. They were on their way to her aunt's place to have supper with her and her mother. (Her father had taken Jonah, Anne's son, to a Blue Jay game.) She'd gotten a text as she was leaving work:
Having sup w yr aunt. u 2? bring Owen?
She could have bailed. She could have made up a lie, or she could have kept Eoin out of this. But she was finally feeling like she was getting her life together. "Plus, you get to show me off," Eoin had said, when she'd called to ask if he wanted to go with her. "It's about time."
She'd met him on the Bathurst subway platform; he was wearing a lime green hoodie with yellow jeans and paint-stained canvas sneakers. Yes, it was definitely time to show off this man who dressed like a stop light.
Her aunt was house-sitting a new place now, this one in North York. It was a condo, actually, and came with two geriatric dogs. "Welcome!" Angela flung open the door to the condo, and Katie and Eoin made their way inside. Angela hugged them both. From the sofa, Katie's mother gave a little wave, then stood up.
"Eoin. It's lovely to meet you. I've heard so much about you." As they shook hands, Katie racked her brain, trying to remember when she'd ever talked with her mother about Eoin. "From Katie's aunt." Her mother amended, jerking a thumb in Angela's direction. "My daughter tells me nothing."
"Right!" Katie clapped her hands together. "Anyone up for a drink?" She hefted a bottle of Irish whiskey. (Seriously, dating an Irishman meant you had your hostess gifts totally covered. No more hemming and hawing over what wine to pick up. As long as you brought Guiness or whiskey, you could do no wrong).
"Well, she's got lots to tell you tonight." Eoin guided Katie's mother back to the sofa, as Katie and Angela went to the kitchen to pour everyone a whiskey and soda.
"Well, isn't he just the most charming man?" Angela hip-checked her neice playfully.
"I know. He's kind of too perfect. I know he msut have flaws, but I can't really see them. Not yet."
"Then honey, you must be blind," said Angela, and they watched as Eoin unzipped his limegreen hoodie to reveal a shocking pink tshirt. "Because I don't know if I could last more than one date with someone who dressed like a bag of higlighters."
"I just wear sunglasses," Katie smiled, and hugged her aunt. "Honestly, Angela, I'm feeling really happy. Florescent boyfriend and all." And she was. For once. For finally.
* * *
"I've had some pretty good news about work," Katie started in during the fig and goat cheese tarts. "I've been given the opportunity to use some of my original artwork for a major client's ad campaign."
"But isn't that what your job is? To design ad campaigns? You often make the drawings." Though Katie hated to admit it, her mother asked a valid question.
"Yeah, kind of. But this is different. This is me making art I want to, instead of me making the art they ask of me. I have total creative control." Katie felt herself swell with pride, and Eoin clutched her hand under the table. "This is going to be just me, doing my thing."
"That's amazing, Katie. Well done," Aunt Angela clapped her hands together.
"Hmm." Her mother's voice was less enthusiastic. "And this is fine with your boss? This won't detract from your other responsibilities?"
"It's all fine." Katie assured her. "I swear it."
"So how did this come about?" Her mother sounded anxious. "You didn't go over anyone's head to get this ... opportunity ... did you?"
Katie quashed a feeling of irritation and smiled hard. "No, I didn't do anything remotely wrong." (Except for spray paint bridges. That nearly got me arrested. But only nearly!)
"So tell us about it. Tell us how it all came about," her mother pressed, and Katie took a deep breath.
"Okay. The thing is..." And Katie told them. About Anne. About her hunt for her sister, about the art she put up. She glossed over the spray-painting-on-bridges story but emphasized her widespread tackling of the city using art to get to Anne. "Eoin helped. But it was mostly me. And I think we might be closer to finding her. I think we might get her back soon." She told them about finding the house where Anne had been staying, about meeting her friend. "She says Anne's in AA. She says Anne is walking dogs for money."
At this the geriatric canines looked up from the carpet. It was the only action they'd had all night.
"Dogs!" Katie's mother scoffed. "Surely this isn't our Annie. She hates dogs." The geriatric dogs hung their heads.
"She hated dogs. Past tense. But now she's doing what she needs to do to come back. She's going to be fine."
"Oh, that's great news. What a good-news night we're having!" said Aunt Angela, but Katie's mother's frown only deepened.
"But you haven't actually seen her, or talked to her. You don't actually know if any of this is true. For all you know these other homeless people could be crazy, or on drugs. They could be talking about someone else."
Katie didn't have a response for her mother. She only sat and stared at her; next to her, she could tell Angela was gearing up for a response of her own.
It was Eoin (of course) who stepped in and stopped the fight that he knew was brewing inside her, inside all of them.
"I don't know Anne," he said, slowly. "I don't know any of you, really, except for Katie, and I'll admit I don't even know her that well. But I do know love. Sorry if this sounds corny, or whatever, but I do know what a family that loves one another looks like and that's you lot right here. You definitely love Anne, I know that. And Katie is only trying to bring you good news. So why would you reject it?"
He put a hand, a large, warm, art-callused hand over Katie's mother's. "I know it's scary. What if this isn't true? What if it isn't for keeps? What if this will all just fade away?"
Yes. Exactly. Katie felt this way about everything.
"It might. This might not be the answer. We might never find her --" Eoin paused as Katie's mother choked on a sob. "--We might never find her. But we will keep looking. We will do it together." Katie's mother started to cry, and Katie slid off her chair and went to her, holding her tight.
"I'm doing what I can, mum. And you have to believe me, I'm doing this for all of us. I can't just accept that she's gone."
"It would be easier if she were," her mother said.
"Maybe for you," Katie said, her anger rising again. "But not for me."
"It's not that I want her to be gone. I just think we'd get some peace if we could just...." She looked up at Katie. "Oh, Katie. I'm so ashamed. I'm a terrible mother."
"I wouldn't say terrible," Katie hugged her mother, hard. "Just a bit mixed up."
* * *
By the time they'd finished dessert, (and crying), all the details had been shared, including the story about the police station. "If I'm going to be honest, I have to be totally honest," Katie said.
"No more illegal activity," Katie's mother said.
"Of course," Katie said, at the same time Eoin shook his head and said, "We can't promise that."
"So you'll let us know if you hear from her again?" Katie's mother asked as Katie and Eoin were on their way out the door, a tupperware full of leftover pasta under his arm.
"As long as you tell Jason what's going on, and tell him to hold off on the divorce and custody and everything."
Her mother frowned, and started to say something, but Angela nodded. "We'll talk to him. But we can't guarantee anything."
"As long as you try." Katie hugged her aunt, and her mother. "That's all we can do. We have to keep trying."
Her mother nodded, and promised to talk to Jason. But as they made their way back to the subway, hands clasped tight, Katie and Eoin couldn't help but worry that once the tearful reunion was over, her mother wouldn't just turn right around and lose faith all over again.
You Decide!
1. Katie and Melissa have a meeting with their boss, Mr. Ambrose, about her project, and he's not so keen on their ideas.
or
2. Jason turns up at Katie's workplace, upset that she's meddling in his affairs by trying to track down Anne and stop the divorce.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Another Article!
Hey guys,
Here is a fun little article I wrote about the whole "interactive Ebook" thing we've got going on over here at You Were Going To Be Fantastic...
Pioneers of Cyberspace: Collaborative Novel Writing
Coincidentally, it was published the same day as my new YA interactive novel, Falling Backwards, started publishing over at Fiction Express!
Here is a fun little article I wrote about the whole "interactive Ebook" thing we've got going on over here at You Were Going To Be Fantastic...
Pioneers of Cyberspace: Collaborative Novel Writing
Coincidentally, it was published the same day as my new YA interactive novel, Falling Backwards, started publishing over at Fiction Express!
Monday, November 14, 2011
Chapter 37: In Which Someone Finally Tells The Truth
"I don't know if you've noticed, but there's some pretty creative graffiti around town lately. Some interesting posters, too, and the other day my assistant came across a set of postcards left in a phone booth. I think it's all the same artist -- there's always the word fantastic mixed in. It's really inspired."
Katie grabbed Eoin's hand and squeezed hard. "You hearing this, Eoin?"
"I sure am." He squeezed back.
"I want that artist, whoever it is. I want that artist to design my campaign." Rebecca pointed a finger in Katie's face. "Find me that fantastic person or I walk."
And then she staggered away.
"Oh my God, Katie." Eoin grabbed her by the shoulders (having first put his drink down, of course). "This is it! This is your big moment!"
His eyes were all lit up and sparkly -- if she hadn't overheard him tell Bobby that he loved her, she'd've known it now, anyway. "Isn't this just amazing?"
"Yeah, it's..." Katie felt a little surge of panic. "It's terrible, Eoin!"
"But why?" He had to shout to be heard over the loud dance music pumping through the Rococo Room's speakers.
"It's just...Can we go outside?" She shouted into Eoin's ear.
"Sure!" He nodded, then pointed over his shoulder. "I'm just nipping to the washroom! Meet me out there?"
Katie nodded, and headed outside, pleased to be alone with her thoughts for a moment.
Only when she got outside, she wasn't alone. Melissa was there, sneaking a cigarette with Nora.
"Melissa!" Katie scolded. "I thought you quit."
Melissa looked guilty, and shrugged. "I did. I have. This is just..."
"Oh would you lay off, Katie?" Nora took a long drag on her cigarette. Leaning up against the wall in her cool brown leather jacket, one high-heeled foot propped up against the bricks, she looked like a serious femme fatale. "This is her birthday. Shouldn't a girl be allowed to smoke on her birthday?"
"I guess, if she wants to limit the number of birthdays in her future," Katie muttered. Melissa heard her, and she laughed. She took one last drag on the smoke and then crushed it out.
"So where's that funny-looking Irishman you're hanging out with?" Nora asked.
Katie gave her a long, cold look. "He's inside," she said, evenly, not rising to the bait.
"Well, that's it for me," Nora said. Melissa went to follow her into the club but Katie pulled on her sleeve, holding her back.
"What's up?" Melissa asked, quietly; Katie waited until Nora was inside before she talked.
"So the thing is I've been putting up art all over the city, as a way to reach out to my sister. Like, guerrilla-style. And now Rebecca -- your client -- has asked me if I can find the artist who's been making the graffiti and posters and stuff and hire them to work for her campaign."
"So that's awesome," said Melissa.
"Is it? Because I'm. the. artist." Katie said it slowly, carefully, as though Melissa hadn't heard.
"And?"
"And I'm not sure....what happens when she finds out it's me?"
"She hires you and you finally get recognition for your work?" Melissa prompted. At this point Eoin had appeared.
"Are you saying you don't know if you can handle it?" He asked, pointedly.
"Maybe? I mean....Rebecca's looking for an artist, and I'm just a girl looking for her sister. I'm not...I never had that show. And we tried to put it on twice. And it was a mess both times. And I took some classes but..." Katie was feeling panicky, she was thinking of those weeks, months, hiding at her aunt's house, after she left Bobby and she came back to "Make It" and all she made was a mess. She was like the kid in Fame who dropped out first semester. (Was there such a character? Who could remember? And did it even matter? (Exactly!!))
"Listen." Melissa bent down so that she was eye to eye with her much shorter friend. "Bobby told me about that talk you had. That you've been, like, crippled with guilt and fear, or something, since you broke up with him." Katie glanced at Eoin, who raised an eyebrow at her. Damn. She knew she should have told him about Bobby when she'd had the chance! "I think, and he thinks, that you have to set yourself free. Right? Otherwise, why did you put yourself, and him, through all that? Jump at this chance!"
Melissa's words were comforting, and they were making Katie brave. But there was another issue. "So let's say I do. Am I selling out?" Katie turned to Eoin, the most "artist" person she knew. "If I do this, if I make my art commercial, am I compromising myself?"
"No!" Eoin said, shaking his head. "Not at all. And there's nothing saying you can't do both. Be a commercial artist and an artist artist. The important thing is you wouldn't be just Office Katie anymore."
Katie looked off into the distance, staring at the twinkling streetlights. Somewhere, Anne was out there. Maybe the reason to do this for Rebecca wasn't fame, or fortune, or a fancy way to think about herself. Maybe it was another way to smoke out Anne.
"Okay." She turned back to her friends. "Let's go find Rebecca."
"Sure." Eoin smiled back. "But first, what's the deal with you and Bobby?"
******
They didn't end up talking with Rebecca at the Rococo Room -- she'd passed out by the time they went back inside. Instead, Katie and Melissa called a meeting for Tuesday afternoon.
Rebecca arrived early, with lattes for everyone, and the three of them sat down around the board room table.
"So." Rebecca sipped her drink. "What have you brought me all the way down here for, ladies?"
Katie's heart froze. Rebecca had forgotten. She'd been so drunk she'd completely put their conversation about the secret street artist out of her mind.
"Don't tell me you've found the Toronto Bansky already?" Rebecca asked, and Katie felt a sigh of relief. And then panic -- she wanted another Bansky? Katie wasn't that good. Katie wasn't talented enough. Bansky was -- And she was --
"That is precisely why you're here." Melissa stepped in and saved the day. She nudged her friend. "Katie? Why don't you tell Rebecca the truth?"
Right. "Right!" Katie took a deep breath. "The truth is, Rebecca, the artist is...." Katie's heart did a little drumroll. She pulled out a black beret and jammed it on her head. "Ta da!"
A long, wide silence filled the board room.
"Excuse me?" Rebecca didn't get it. "What is going on here?"
Katie felt her face growing hot and red, from her peter pan collar to her navy blue tam. She reached up to touch her little hat. "It's me. I'm the artist." Her voice was quite quiet.
"What?" Rebecca's mouth fell open.
"That's what the hat is for....It was a prop...." Katie pulled the beret off her head and squished it up into a little ball. "Sorry, it was stupid. I just wanted to have a fun way to tell you. " Katie glanced over at Melissa, who was stifling a laugh.
"Katie is telling you, Rebecca, that she's our Bansky. Katie Christensen is the artist you're looking for."
Rebecca narrowed her eyes at them. "Really? Do you have any proof?"
Katie pulled out her portfolio, and pushed it across to Rebecca, who spent ten minutes going through it. At the end she took the twisted beret from Katie's hands, and put it firmly on Katie's head.
"Bien sur," she said. "You are definitely une artiste!"
You Decide!
Katie and Eoin have supper with her mother and her aunt, so that they can finally meet her boyfriend and hear about what's going on with Anne
or
Eoin's project is finally unveiled at a gallery downtown and Katie and Eoin talk about love
GUEST WRITERS!
Anyone else want to help write this story?
I am looking for people who can write a chapter sometime during the next 3 months as I'll be busy with my book being published by FictionExpress. I won't be able to be as regular with my Katie posts as I've been in the past, so I'm asking readers of this blog to help write Katie's story, if they'd like!
So far Ann, my sister Keri, and Bruna have all expressed interest in helping out. (Bruna, I know you were kind of kidding, and that you worry your English might not be good enough, but I promise, we'd make it work!)
Please email me if you'd like to write this next chapter (jennysryanATgmailDOTcom). I don't mind helping with ideas or edits, and I don't even mind if your "chapter" is just point form what you think should happen. We can totally use that, too! I just think some of you might have fun doing this, AND it would help me out.
So who's up for the challenge??
Katie grabbed Eoin's hand and squeezed hard. "You hearing this, Eoin?"
"I sure am." He squeezed back.
"I want that artist, whoever it is. I want that artist to design my campaign." Rebecca pointed a finger in Katie's face. "Find me that fantastic person or I walk."
And then she staggered away.
"Oh my God, Katie." Eoin grabbed her by the shoulders (having first put his drink down, of course). "This is it! This is your big moment!"
His eyes were all lit up and sparkly -- if she hadn't overheard him tell Bobby that he loved her, she'd've known it now, anyway. "Isn't this just amazing?"
"Yeah, it's..." Katie felt a little surge of panic. "It's terrible, Eoin!"
"But why?" He had to shout to be heard over the loud dance music pumping through the Rococo Room's speakers.
"It's just...Can we go outside?" She shouted into Eoin's ear.
"Sure!" He nodded, then pointed over his shoulder. "I'm just nipping to the washroom! Meet me out there?"
Katie nodded, and headed outside, pleased to be alone with her thoughts for a moment.
Only when she got outside, she wasn't alone. Melissa was there, sneaking a cigarette with Nora.
"Melissa!" Katie scolded. "I thought you quit."
Melissa looked guilty, and shrugged. "I did. I have. This is just..."
"Oh would you lay off, Katie?" Nora took a long drag on her cigarette. Leaning up against the wall in her cool brown leather jacket, one high-heeled foot propped up against the bricks, she looked like a serious femme fatale. "This is her birthday. Shouldn't a girl be allowed to smoke on her birthday?"
"I guess, if she wants to limit the number of birthdays in her future," Katie muttered. Melissa heard her, and she laughed. She took one last drag on the smoke and then crushed it out.
"So where's that funny-looking Irishman you're hanging out with?" Nora asked.
Katie gave her a long, cold look. "He's inside," she said, evenly, not rising to the bait.
"Well, that's it for me," Nora said. Melissa went to follow her into the club but Katie pulled on her sleeve, holding her back.
"What's up?" Melissa asked, quietly; Katie waited until Nora was inside before she talked.
"So the thing is I've been putting up art all over the city, as a way to reach out to my sister. Like, guerrilla-style. And now Rebecca -- your client -- has asked me if I can find the artist who's been making the graffiti and posters and stuff and hire them to work for her campaign."
"So that's awesome," said Melissa.
"Is it? Because I'm. the. artist." Katie said it slowly, carefully, as though Melissa hadn't heard.
"And?"
"And I'm not sure....what happens when she finds out it's me?"
"She hires you and you finally get recognition for your work?" Melissa prompted. At this point Eoin had appeared.
"Are you saying you don't know if you can handle it?" He asked, pointedly.
"Maybe? I mean....Rebecca's looking for an artist, and I'm just a girl looking for her sister. I'm not...I never had that show. And we tried to put it on twice. And it was a mess both times. And I took some classes but..." Katie was feeling panicky, she was thinking of those weeks, months, hiding at her aunt's house, after she left Bobby and she came back to "Make It" and all she made was a mess. She was like the kid in Fame who dropped out first semester. (Was there such a character? Who could remember? And did it even matter? (Exactly!!))
"Listen." Melissa bent down so that she was eye to eye with her much shorter friend. "Bobby told me about that talk you had. That you've been, like, crippled with guilt and fear, or something, since you broke up with him." Katie glanced at Eoin, who raised an eyebrow at her. Damn. She knew she should have told him about Bobby when she'd had the chance! "I think, and he thinks, that you have to set yourself free. Right? Otherwise, why did you put yourself, and him, through all that? Jump at this chance!"
Melissa's words were comforting, and they were making Katie brave. But there was another issue. "So let's say I do. Am I selling out?" Katie turned to Eoin, the most "artist" person she knew. "If I do this, if I make my art commercial, am I compromising myself?"
"No!" Eoin said, shaking his head. "Not at all. And there's nothing saying you can't do both. Be a commercial artist and an artist artist. The important thing is you wouldn't be just Office Katie anymore."
Katie looked off into the distance, staring at the twinkling streetlights. Somewhere, Anne was out there. Maybe the reason to do this for Rebecca wasn't fame, or fortune, or a fancy way to think about herself. Maybe it was another way to smoke out Anne.
"Okay." She turned back to her friends. "Let's go find Rebecca."
"Sure." Eoin smiled back. "But first, what's the deal with you and Bobby?"
******
They didn't end up talking with Rebecca at the Rococo Room -- she'd passed out by the time they went back inside. Instead, Katie and Melissa called a meeting for Tuesday afternoon.
Rebecca arrived early, with lattes for everyone, and the three of them sat down around the board room table.
"So." Rebecca sipped her drink. "What have you brought me all the way down here for, ladies?"
Katie's heart froze. Rebecca had forgotten. She'd been so drunk she'd completely put their conversation about the secret street artist out of her mind.
"Don't tell me you've found the Toronto Bansky already?" Rebecca asked, and Katie felt a sigh of relief. And then panic -- she wanted another Bansky? Katie wasn't that good. Katie wasn't talented enough. Bansky was -- And she was --
"That is precisely why you're here." Melissa stepped in and saved the day. She nudged her friend. "Katie? Why don't you tell Rebecca the truth?"
Right. "Right!" Katie took a deep breath. "The truth is, Rebecca, the artist is...." Katie's heart did a little drumroll. She pulled out a black beret and jammed it on her head. "Ta da!"
A long, wide silence filled the board room.
"Excuse me?" Rebecca didn't get it. "What is going on here?"
Katie felt her face growing hot and red, from her peter pan collar to her navy blue tam. She reached up to touch her little hat. "It's me. I'm the artist." Her voice was quite quiet.
"What?" Rebecca's mouth fell open.
"That's what the hat is for....It was a prop...." Katie pulled the beret off her head and squished it up into a little ball. "Sorry, it was stupid. I just wanted to have a fun way to tell you. " Katie glanced over at Melissa, who was stifling a laugh.
"Katie is telling you, Rebecca, that she's our Bansky. Katie Christensen is the artist you're looking for."
Rebecca narrowed her eyes at them. "Really? Do you have any proof?"
Katie pulled out her portfolio, and pushed it across to Rebecca, who spent ten minutes going through it. At the end she took the twisted beret from Katie's hands, and put it firmly on Katie's head.
"Bien sur," she said. "You are definitely une artiste!"
You Decide!
Katie and Eoin have supper with her mother and her aunt, so that they can finally meet her boyfriend and hear about what's going on with Anne
or
Eoin's project is finally unveiled at a gallery downtown and Katie and Eoin talk about love
GUEST WRITERS!
Anyone else want to help write this story?
I am looking for people who can write a chapter sometime during the next 3 months as I'll be busy with my book being published by FictionExpress. I won't be able to be as regular with my Katie posts as I've been in the past, so I'm asking readers of this blog to help write Katie's story, if they'd like!
So far Ann, my sister Keri, and Bruna have all expressed interest in helping out. (Bruna, I know you were kind of kidding, and that you worry your English might not be good enough, but I promise, we'd make it work!)
Please email me if you'd like to write this next chapter (jennysryanATgmailDOTcom). I don't mind helping with ideas or edits, and I don't even mind if your "chapter" is just point form what you think should happen. We can totally use that, too! I just think some of you might have fun doing this, AND it would help me out.
So who's up for the challenge??
Friday, November 11, 2011
Jenny's First Book Deal!
When I started writing this little blognovel here, I knew I couldn't be the only person writing like this. Somewhere, someone else was probably just as lazy as me, and wanted other people to tell them what to write about.
So I started to investigate. I found Destiny Chasers, a blognovel thing for young readers that a woman named Ceri is writing, and I also found Fiction Express, which is also for young people, who have to pay 39pence to "unlock" each week's chapter. Just like with Katie's story, the authors (who are all Real Authors with Actual Published Books) end each chapter with three or four choices, and the next chapter written is based on whichever choice got the most votes.
With some encouragement, and in a fit of crazy, I wrote up a sample first chapter for a young adult novel (at the time called "Twice Upon a Time In Mexico") and sent it to the publisher. And they commissioned it!
"Falling Backwards" is about Leah, a 16-year-old who is on her way to Mexico on an exchange. While on the plane she meets April, a woman who did a Mexican exchange 17 years ago, only hers was a disaster. The plane goes through a terrible storm, Leah faints, and when she awakens she finds herself in April's 16 year old body, in 1994.
The first chapter goes "live" on November 18th, at which point readers will have three days to download, read, and vote on what should happen in the next week's chapter. I'll be emailed the results from the votes on Monday morning, and I'll have to write a 3,000 word chapter to be sent to my editor for Wednesday. We'll then go back and forth with the chapter until Friday morning, when the chapter is published, and we do it all over again. This whole exercise will repeat itself for 10 weeks....(11 chapters in total).
I'm pretty excited, though nervous. I think it'll be a great time, and I really hope you'll all read it and participate. It will be so nice to have friends along for the ride!
The sad thing is that I won't have as much time to devote to other things in life, such as eating, laundry, or writing Katie and Eoin's story. Because I will still be working full time, and this new book is being "Edited" I can't just write a chapter and throw it up there at the last minute, spelling errors and all. It has to be Professional. Which means Katie, my non-professional, might have to take a back seat.
I will still try to write new chapters for her when I can, but they might be quite short. I know you will understand, and I am NOT abandoning her -- we still have a lot of her story to tell. We'll get there....
And here is where you come in.
WOULD ANY OF YOU LIKE TO BE A GUEST WRITER? WOULD ANY OF YOU LIKE TO WRITE A CHAPTER OF THIS STORY???
Please let me know if you'd like to take a week or two and help me to finish Katie's story...I could help with editing and things if you are nervous about it.
Okay! So that's the news.
Jenny
So I started to investigate. I found Destiny Chasers, a blognovel thing for young readers that a woman named Ceri is writing, and I also found Fiction Express, which is also for young people, who have to pay 39pence to "unlock" each week's chapter. Just like with Katie's story, the authors (who are all Real Authors with Actual Published Books) end each chapter with three or four choices, and the next chapter written is based on whichever choice got the most votes.
With some encouragement, and in a fit of crazy, I wrote up a sample first chapter for a young adult novel (at the time called "Twice Upon a Time In Mexico") and sent it to the publisher. And they commissioned it!
"Falling Backwards" is about Leah, a 16-year-old who is on her way to Mexico on an exchange. While on the plane she meets April, a woman who did a Mexican exchange 17 years ago, only hers was a disaster. The plane goes through a terrible storm, Leah faints, and when she awakens she finds herself in April's 16 year old body, in 1994.
The first chapter goes "live" on November 18th, at which point readers will have three days to download, read, and vote on what should happen in the next week's chapter. I'll be emailed the results from the votes on Monday morning, and I'll have to write a 3,000 word chapter to be sent to my editor for Wednesday. We'll then go back and forth with the chapter until Friday morning, when the chapter is published, and we do it all over again. This whole exercise will repeat itself for 10 weeks....(11 chapters in total).
I'm pretty excited, though nervous. I think it'll be a great time, and I really hope you'll all read it and participate. It will be so nice to have friends along for the ride!
The sad thing is that I won't have as much time to devote to other things in life, such as eating, laundry, or writing Katie and Eoin's story. Because I will still be working full time, and this new book is being "Edited" I can't just write a chapter and throw it up there at the last minute, spelling errors and all. It has to be Professional. Which means Katie, my non-professional, might have to take a back seat.
I will still try to write new chapters for her when I can, but they might be quite short. I know you will understand, and I am NOT abandoning her -- we still have a lot of her story to tell. We'll get there....
And here is where you come in.
WOULD ANY OF YOU LIKE TO BE A GUEST WRITER? WOULD ANY OF YOU LIKE TO WRITE A CHAPTER OF THIS STORY???
Please let me know if you'd like to take a week or two and help me to finish Katie's story...I could help with editing and things if you are nervous about it.
Okay! So that's the news.
Jenny
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Chapter 36: In Which The Author Writes a Bunch of Dialogue Which May or May Not Have Any Bearing On The Novel As A Whole, But She Was On a Roll
Just then Katie’s phone in began to vibrate. “It’s Eoin,” she said.
“He says he thinks he’s in love with you.” Bobby sighed. “Heaven help him.”
“Should I answer it?”
“What have I been telling you? Live the life you want to live. And if that includes Mr Fancy Pants Artist, then answer the damn phone.”
And Katie did. Because he maybe kind of loved her. And she maybe kind of loved him. And that was a pretty fantastic start to the rest of her life.
* * *
"So this is the infamous Rococo Room." Eoin, off the booze for the night, took a sip of his soda-with-lime.
"Infamous?" Katie was nursing a Moscow mule. "Is it?" They were leaning against a railing dividing the VIP room from the riff raff. She still hadn't asked him about this "love" business. She wasn't entirely sure how to bring it up. Nor had she told him about Bobby being her ex. She wasn't sure the Rococo Room was the best environs for either chat.
"Well, sure." Eoin said. "I mean, it's all this crowd was talking about for, like, the whole walk over." His long arm swept the space, where Melissa's friends were all lounging around on crushed velvet sofas and leaning against ornately-patterned wallpaper. The place looked like a very upscale brothel. Eoin's head had nearly hit a low-hanging chandelier on their way in.
"It is pretty fancy," conceded Katie. "I just wish the drinks weren't so expensive."
"That's how you know you've made it," he said. "When the drinks cost more than the snacks."
"I believe they're called tapas in a place like this." Katie felt a bit giddy, and it wasn't just the vodka. Even though her conversation with Bobby had been difficult, it had been freeing, in a way. He seemed like he was doing okay. He was over by the bar, chatting with Melissa. Katie would have to ask her later what they talked about.
"Whatever," Eoin rolled his eyes. "Do you want anything?" He proffered a Tasting Menu and they scanned the list. "Look. Nachos! Don't they seem a bit too common for this place?"
"Ah, these are made in the Rococo Style -- see? Served with caramelized vegetables and rich dipping sauces, in an ornately sculpted bowl."
"Ooh! Are you guys getting food?" Rebecca had not slowed her booze consumption; she was carrying around a bottle of champagne and a glass. "Anyone want some? I got it for Melissa's big day. But she only wanted one glass!" She hiccuped and poured out the dregs from the bottle. "Oops! Nothing left for you two."
"That's fine. We're okay," said Eoin.
"Listen, Katie. I need to talk with you," Rebecca whispered loudly.
"You do?"
"Yes." Rebecca wedged herself into the space between Eoin and Katie. "I've been talking with your cousin Violet about the great success she's had with your marketing campaigns --"
"You have?"
"Yes. I got the number from that mousy little assistant of yours."
"Erica gave you Violet's number?"
"Yes. I called the office yesterday. You weren't there so Erica helped me out. I hope that's okay."
"Of course, it's fine." Erica must have given Rebecca her own cellphone number and pretended to be Violet. Erica's work with the Improfessionals was certainly paying off.
"I must confess that I was thinking of leaving your organization and taking my business elsewhere -- though Melissa is a lovely girl, she's just not giving me what I want." Rebecca tried to pour more champagne from the bottle, obviously having forgotten that it was empty. "But before I left, I wanted to hear from Violet. She's been such a loyal client, and I know it can't just be the family connection."
"So what did she tell you?" Katie was almost afraid to ask.
"Oh, that you think outside the box, that you're a super leader, and really nice. That kind of thing. That when you going, you're really inspiring and have great, creative ideas...you know."
"She really said all that?" Katie felt a warm glow. She really should get Erica a plant or something for her desk.
"So here's the thing. I've got a proposition for you." For a drunk person, Rebecca suddenly seemed very sober.
"Sure. Anything."
"I don't know if you've noticed, but there's some pretty creative graffiti around town lately. Some interesting posters, too, and the other day my assistant came across a set of postcards left in a phone booth. I think it's all the same artist -- there's always the word fantastic mixed in. It's really inspired."
Katie grabbed Eoin's hand and squeezed hard. "You hearing this, Eoin?"
"I sure am." He squeezed back.
"I want that artist, whoever it is. I want that artist to design my campaign." Rebecca pointed a finger in Katie's face. "Find me that fantastic person or I walk."
You Decide!
Katie and Eoin tell Rebecca the truth about the mastermind behind the graffiti campaign,
or
Katie and Eoin pretend they have no idea what Rebecca is talking about.
“He says he thinks he’s in love with you.” Bobby sighed. “Heaven help him.”
“Should I answer it?”
“What have I been telling you? Live the life you want to live. And if that includes Mr Fancy Pants Artist, then answer the damn phone.”
And Katie did. Because he maybe kind of loved her. And she maybe kind of loved him. And that was a pretty fantastic start to the rest of her life.
* * *
"So this is the infamous Rococo Room." Eoin, off the booze for the night, took a sip of his soda-with-lime.
"Infamous?" Katie was nursing a Moscow mule. "Is it?" They were leaning against a railing dividing the VIP room from the riff raff. She still hadn't asked him about this "love" business. She wasn't entirely sure how to bring it up. Nor had she told him about Bobby being her ex. She wasn't sure the Rococo Room was the best environs for either chat.
"Well, sure." Eoin said. "I mean, it's all this crowd was talking about for, like, the whole walk over." His long arm swept the space, where Melissa's friends were all lounging around on crushed velvet sofas and leaning against ornately-patterned wallpaper. The place looked like a very upscale brothel. Eoin's head had nearly hit a low-hanging chandelier on their way in.
"It is pretty fancy," conceded Katie. "I just wish the drinks weren't so expensive."
"That's how you know you've made it," he said. "When the drinks cost more than the snacks."
"I believe they're called tapas in a place like this." Katie felt a bit giddy, and it wasn't just the vodka. Even though her conversation with Bobby had been difficult, it had been freeing, in a way. He seemed like he was doing okay. He was over by the bar, chatting with Melissa. Katie would have to ask her later what they talked about.
"Whatever," Eoin rolled his eyes. "Do you want anything?" He proffered a Tasting Menu and they scanned the list. "Look. Nachos! Don't they seem a bit too common for this place?"
"Ah, these are made in the Rococo Style -- see? Served with caramelized vegetables and rich dipping sauces, in an ornately sculpted bowl."
"Ooh! Are you guys getting food?" Rebecca had not slowed her booze consumption; she was carrying around a bottle of champagne and a glass. "Anyone want some? I got it for Melissa's big day. But she only wanted one glass!" She hiccuped and poured out the dregs from the bottle. "Oops! Nothing left for you two."
"That's fine. We're okay," said Eoin.
"Listen, Katie. I need to talk with you," Rebecca whispered loudly.
"You do?"
"Yes." Rebecca wedged herself into the space between Eoin and Katie. "I've been talking with your cousin Violet about the great success she's had with your marketing campaigns --"
"You have?"
"Yes. I got the number from that mousy little assistant of yours."
"Erica gave you Violet's number?"
"Yes. I called the office yesterday. You weren't there so Erica helped me out. I hope that's okay."
"Of course, it's fine." Erica must have given Rebecca her own cellphone number and pretended to be Violet. Erica's work with the Improfessionals was certainly paying off.
"I must confess that I was thinking of leaving your organization and taking my business elsewhere -- though Melissa is a lovely girl, she's just not giving me what I want." Rebecca tried to pour more champagne from the bottle, obviously having forgotten that it was empty. "But before I left, I wanted to hear from Violet. She's been such a loyal client, and I know it can't just be the family connection."
"So what did she tell you?" Katie was almost afraid to ask.
"Oh, that you think outside the box, that you're a super leader, and really nice. That kind of thing. That when you going, you're really inspiring and have great, creative ideas...you know."
"She really said all that?" Katie felt a warm glow. She really should get Erica a plant or something for her desk.
"So here's the thing. I've got a proposition for you." For a drunk person, Rebecca suddenly seemed very sober.
"Sure. Anything."
"I don't know if you've noticed, but there's some pretty creative graffiti around town lately. Some interesting posters, too, and the other day my assistant came across a set of postcards left in a phone booth. I think it's all the same artist -- there's always the word fantastic mixed in. It's really inspired."
Katie grabbed Eoin's hand and squeezed hard. "You hearing this, Eoin?"
"I sure am." He squeezed back.
"I want that artist, whoever it is. I want that artist to design my campaign." Rebecca pointed a finger in Katie's face. "Find me that fantastic person or I walk."
You Decide!
Katie and Eoin tell Rebecca the truth about the mastermind behind the graffiti campaign,
or
Katie and Eoin pretend they have no idea what Rebecca is talking about.
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