"Oh, sorry, I didn't know you were a newbie. Now that I'm looking, you are a little green around the edges."
Lilah raised her head. "I am not." She looked at her bare arms. "Am I?" she added as if she'd be tinged with color, and hadn't been able to see it clearly.
"She didn't mean literally," Cassandra said with a laugh. "I've been here for three days, mapping things out. I practically feel like an old timer, but things are still fuzzy."
Relating, with the fuzziness, Lilah nodded. "What about you?" she asked, directing her question to the other girl.
"Oh, I came here with someone. I've got it all mostly figured out. Just making the rounds, trying to get a little more inspiration for a prequel. Figuring out the back-story that hadn't much mattered until my first book was finished."
After that, the three of them settled into a comfortable silence, and by the end of the panel, Lilah had made a few more notes in her notebook. But for just as many facts she'd managed to figure out, she had just as many unanswered questions still looming in the air. It had been like she'd woken up with a sense of loss—amnesia maybe—and she was trying to put all the pieces of her story back into place.
"There's a social tonight, in one of the ballrooms. You should come. Might help you figure out a few more things, and maybe you'll be lucky enough to meet someone and make a connection, that's always the best part about these things."
"Sure, yeah. There's a few more panels I want to check out."
Lilah joined in and clapped with the rest of the people around her, having missed the last minutes of the panel. She hadn't minded, this time, losing a bit of her concentration to make new friends.
"Great! Well, I'm out of here. I really do hope to see you there!"
Walking out of the conference room, with Cassandra at her side, Lilah felt a little more comfortable. And when Cassandra leaned in for a hug, Lilah graciously returned it.
"It was nice meeting you!" Lilah said.
"You'll do great. I swear, no one really knows how to go about finding the story. It's a huge learning curve. I showed up practically naked, and look at me now."
Lilah laughed. "You look great."
"Yeah well, thanks, I just need to figure out the rest of what's in here." She tapped her temple with her finger. "And remember, don't think too hard about it. I've found the best way to figure it all out is to just listen, close your eyes, and you'll get it."
"Thanks again," Lilah said and waved goodbye to Cassandra. She took a few steps towards the elevator but stopped, and turned around. Cassandra was gone, perhaps swallowed up by the horde of conference attendees that had begun to spill out of the other rooms.
She felt a pang of sadness as she realized she'd have to spend the next while on her own, and could only hope she'd find someone else to talk to at the next panel. She'd been learning just as much from the discussion panels as she had from the new friends she'd met.
* * *
By the end of the day, Lilah had filled three pages with notes. She'd absorbed everything that had been said around her, and began to write out the basics of her plot line. In doing so, she'd started to fill the holes that had been poked through her brain and was starting to see things unfold.
Not only did she know a bit of the back-story she'd been missing, she'd begun to create the future she was hoping for. She'd settled on a genre. Eric, from the morning, had been right. She was all about steamy romance. Attending a panel about romantic firsts and how to make them realistic sent shivers up her spine and teased her with sensation. There was something about sensual kisses and feather-light touches that curled her toes. She had confirmed that further when she slipped into the wrong panel—one about fantasy creatures—and was weirded out when they talked about dragons and trolls. And she certainly wasn't into witches or vampires, whether they sparkled or not, no matter how alluring that might have seemed. The taste of blood hadn't sounded all that appetizing—gross, really—and she wasn't about to join in any spell castings or séances. They had been a bizarre bunch, and it turned her off of the idea of anything fantastical, or anything that went bump in the night. She was more of a contemporary girl, so far.
Lilah had discovered the intricacies of dialogue and how important it was. It painted a picture, because once she knew about all the different kinds of dialects and techniques, her impending narrative discovered a location, a time period, and more. Cassandra had been right, it was better to take things slow. When she pushed herself too hard, thinking about all the components and sequences of events that made up a novel, she had begun to suffer from vertigo, the room spinning, her head growing fuzzy. Too much, too soon, and she had to understand that great fiction took time to initiate.
Feeling almost whole, Lilah entered the party, a room brightly lit from chandeliers of drop crystals that hung from the ceilings. The twinkle of rainbows cast on the tables adorned with simple black table cloths, and the matte colored walls.
She looked around nervously, feeling a little out of place as she stood awkwardly in the entryway, her notebook pressed firmly again her chest. But then, Lilah saw a fiery red head, with freckles dappled over her cheeks, bouncing through the crowd towards her. Cassandra.
Relaxing only slightly, Lilah smiled and waved at the welcoming face quickly closing the distance between them.
"I'm glad you came!"
Lilah replied, unsure of herself, "Thanks, though I'm not sure this was a good idea."
Cassandra was quick to shoot back, "Of course it is! This is where all the magic happens."
"The what?" She raised an eyebrow to further show her confusion. Cassandra wasn't serious, was she?
Rolling her eyes, Cassandra looped her arm with Lilah, not answering the question, but instead, began to push her way through the crowd, yanking Lilah forward. "Come on, there's more of us to meet," she tossed over her shoulder.
Unsteady on her heels, Lilah tried to keep up, as she moved through the jam-packed ballroom. People were everywhere, huddled over high-top tables, seated at lower ones, leaning up against the lengths of walls. And the chatter— it was so loud it caused an ache behind Lilah’s eyes.
A million voices could be heard, swirling in the air. Her senses heightened. A plethora of different aromas stung the inside of her nose, causing it to wrinkle. Her eyes tearing up from the invasion of vibrant colors, the ache in her head increasing to a throb. It was almost too much. Overwhelming. She had never seen so many different people in one place. She began to slow, fighting against Cassandra's hold.
"I don't feel so well," Lilah muttered, barely audible.
Slowing her pace, and then stopping, Cassandra turned to her, gripping Lilah’s arms. "I know. Sort kicks you right in the gut doesn't it? You sort of feel like you're being pulled apart, in a dozen different directions, right?"
Once Lilah’s eyes were closed, she could agree, that's kind of how it felt, but not quite. The darkness that consumed her was frightening. She couldn't decide what was worse; being over stimulated by the room, churning her, or the never ending vast of nothingness, when she tried to tune it all out.
"You just have to adjust to it. It'll get easier. It's just a lot of people searching for inspiration all at once. And hey, if you're lucky, you won't have to come back tomorrow."
At the delightful thought, Lilah opened her eyes. She could get through it. Besides, they were all there for the same reason, right? They all had something in common. They were readers, and writers, they were searching for that next big idea, desperate for a discovery, something that would get those creative juices flowing. Lilah hadn’t filled up entire pages of her notebook in hopes of not latching on to a bright idea.
"Hey, there's my wet dream from this morning."
Of course, Eric would be here, Lilah thought, when she and Cassandra had begun to advance forward again. He held a drink in his hand and raised it towards her with that arrogant tease in his tone.
"I see you haven't grown up yet," Lilah said.
"Maybe not. Imp
ossible really, but I see that you have." He let out a whistle. "Seems you managed to make a few revelations about yourself. It's really made you glow."
She might not have liked how he worded things, or the tone he used, but that did make her smile.
"Lilah’s a quick learner," Cassandra said proudly. "I bet you she makes a connection, for sure, by the end of the night, and we'll all still be stuck here tomorrow."
"Hey, watch who you're talking to. I've already made a connection," Eric said with mock hurt. "I've got at least three more books before things on my end become obsolete."
"Yeah, well, we can't all be that lucky. There is such a thing as a stand-alone."
Injecting herself into the conversation, Lilah said, "What the hell are you guys talking about?"
Eric and Cassandra laughed. "You really don't know, do you?" Eric said.
"Know what?"
"Oh, babe, you've still got a lot to learn."
That hadn't answered her question, at all. In fact, it raised a few more and as she opened her mouth to reply Cassandra said, "Oh hey, Lilah, I think you've got a looker." Her eyes lit up as she pushed her finger forward, pointing at something Lilah couldn’t seem to see. She strained her neck, standing on her tip-toes.
"Oh wait, no, sorry."
And then Lilah saw it, sort of a radiance through the mass of bodies. A boy, who looked much too young to be at a party, was walking toward a woman about Lilah’s age. No, that wasn't quite right, he'd almost floated towards her, a smile on his face. And then, though she could have sworn she had imagined it, the boy seemed to dissolve into the air until he was gone. A truly bizarre sight, and she might have wondered if someone had spiked her drink if only she had had one.
"Where'd he go?" The concern in Lilah’s voice was evident. "Did you see that?"
Eric said, waving his hand nonchalantly, "Don't worry. He's fine. In a better place, really. He just found the rest of his story, is all."
What did that even mean? Still gaping, she said, "You guys are crazy, you know that." But then, she had begun to wonder if that was true. Maybe she was the one who was crazy...
"Oh, we know. I wouldn't have believed it myself, had I not seen it the other day." Cassandra smiled. "It's kind of cool, too. I can't wait for it to happen to me."
Lilah reached for the glass that was sitting in front of Cassandra. "Did Eric roofie you?" She smelled the contents of the clear bubbly liquid.
"It's just Seven-Up. Do I look old enough to drink?"
Setting the glass back down, Lilah shrugged. "No, I guess not. Doesn't mean he didn't slip something in there. Maybe they are pumping something in through the air ducts, because I swore I just saw a kid fade into thin air. And you two are being totally nonchalant about it."
"Hey, I'm standing right here," Eric said. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't talk about me like I don't exist."
"Well, you don't, not really," said a newcomer to the table. He was a gangly guy, in his twenties, still had pimples on his face, an awkward stance, and a nervous twitch. "The probability of any of us making it to the end of a first draft isn't very high. Do you know how many people start writing a book and never finish it?" When no one answered him, he said, "Neither do I, but it's got to be an enormous number. They don't call it “aspiring” for nothing. Most people just dabble and think it’s fun to call themselves a serious writer." He air-quoted the “serious” for emphasis. "But to be an author, well, that's another matter entirely. There's a lot more that goes into it than just words. I mean, there's editing—slicing and dicing a manuscript to shreds, really weeding out the useless prose and characters. And then, what comes next, I mean, even if you do end up with a polished manuscript, nothing says it's publishable. There's a lot of crap out there that gets written, only to collect dust on a shelf somewhere, or be locked in a computer."
Lilah looked at Eric and Cassandra. Their expressions likely matched hers, wide eyed and slack jawed.
Eric punched the guy in the arm. "Way to bring down the party."
Cassandra looked as though she had a twinkle in her eyes, star struck. "You-you sure know a lot." She blushed, making her freckles stand out even more.
"Yeah, well, I've been around for a while. The knowledge I have trapped inside, it's a little scary, and I've yet to find my home."
"Gee, I can't imagine why." Eric let out a huff of air. Then he reached for Lilah’s notebook, snatching it out of her hand.
"Hey! That's personal. Give it back." She lunged, but he stepped back just out of her reach. He raised the notebook up in the air. She may have been older, but he was most definitely taller.
"Oh, come on, just let me have a peek."
"No way." She jumped up and tried to reach it for it. She looked to Cassandra for help, only she was engrossed in a conversation with the slightly nerdy newcomer. But it was already too late, Eric had flipped the cover open. "Please, don't." She gave up and covered her face with her hands.
"I knew it!" He snapped his fingers.
Cassandra had chosen that moment to look up. "Knew what?"
"She's all about the romance. Wants to be swept off her feet. Oh, and there's some naughty stuff in here. This is totally not PG. Perhaps, I'm in the wrong storyline." He winked at her.
"Most girls want that. You'd be wise to pay attention. The average writer includes some element of a love interest."
Cassandra beamed at the new addition to the table. "I'm more of a coming of age. But you really think that?"
"Oh sure."
Cassandra giggled, blushing crimson again.
"Yeah, well, I've got a spank bank that tells me I don't need that romance crap,” Eric was quick to toss in.
Lilah was mortified. "You're disgusting." Then she held out her hand. "Give it back, now," she demanded, raising her voice a little.
"Alright. Fine. But a waitress? Really. That's the best you could come up with? Why not shoot for the stars and go straight for call girl? Might get you that action you're craving a little quicker."
Cassandra had a blank expression, and the newcomer had bits of drool at the corners of his lips as he gave Lilah more of a once-over with his eyes.
"Just forget about it." Lilah heaved a sigh. She didn't need the notebook, not really. She was pretty confident in who she'd become and what the elements of her story would include. "Cassandra, I think I'm just going to go get some fresh air." She then turned to the guy that had captured her friend’s interest. "It was nice meeting you..."
"Oh, yeah, sorry, socially inept." He rubbed his hand over his cord pants and then held it out towards Lilah. She took it. "I'm Bryan."
"Well, it was nice to meet you. You might want to get Cassandra, here, away from this douchebag."
Cassandra and Bryan laughed, and Lilah could see the sparks flying between them, maybe more so once she left the picture.
"I could come with you, you know, if you want," Cassandra said, but her expression, the longing look in her eyes told Lilah she’d only said that to be polite.
"No, I'm good. You have fun." She winked.
Not bothering to retrieve her notebook or say goodbye to Eric, Lilah stepped back from the table and took a few steps towards the entrance.
But all too quickly, she felt a shudder. Goosebumps prickled her skin, and she suddenly felt as though she was being pulled in a different direction. Hesitantly, she looked over her shoulder and found Cassandra with her eyes.
"Yes! I win. I knew it!" She bounced happily.
"You knew what?" Lilah asked, but an extraordinary feeling took hold of her. Instead of waiting for an answer, something inside told her to look back around, in the direction she had been about to go.
It was as though the mass of people parted as she began to walk forward, her attention suddenly drawn to something at the other end of the room.
"Just go with it. It's a good thing."
She heard Cassandra call after her, as a man, standing tall, wearing jeans and a t-shirt came into view. He was all she could see,
everything around her washing away. The sound of the voices became muted. She no longer noticed the animated colors of the room that had created a headache earlier. The loss that had consumed her at the start of the day was no longer there, instead making way for even more ideas to come flooding in. She couldn't make sense of what was happening, and she found herself yanking against the invisible reel, fighting against the pull.
"No, don't do that. Go. Tell him about your story. What you want to be written." Cassandra's voice, barely a whisper, managed to reach Lilah’s ears, calming her.
Despite the urge to fight it, Lilah let herself be drawn towards the man, her eyes fluttering closed as images began to fill her brain. She started to see things more clearly, the rest of the story, the plot holes that she couldn't have worked out on her on. When she re-opened them, she'd moved more than fifty feet in a fraction of a second, almost floating on the current that had somehow connected her with him.
And then, all at once, she felt overcome with joy. She could have sworn that his gray eyes were lit up with an emotion Lilah couldn’t have even begun to describe. But it made her tingle—a zip of electricity that jolted her awake—because this was where she was always meant to be. She wanted to reach out and wrap her arms around him like he was her other half and she wasn't complete without him. She was anxious to feel consumed, and discovering what that meant for her.
Lilah did reach for him. When the final bits of distance were closed, she reached out with her hands and placed them on his chest just as a blazing white light flashed behind her eyes. She felt dizzy, and then, abruptly, before she could have stopped it, she felt herself falling into the abyss. Had she been able to scream, she might have, but fear of the unknown was the last thing she thought, wondering what would happen to her next. And then, that too faded away until she was gone.
* * *
Ethan Young woke up with the inexplicable urge to write, something he hadn't felt in a good long while. The dreams he had the night before created an image in his mind and began to weave together the plot of a novel idea.
Rubbing his hands over his face, he wiped away the sleep from his eyes. He had thought he might lay there for a few more minutes absorbing and marveling at the new outline. Only he didn't want it to slip through his grasp like so many had before.
Capturing the Muse Page 7
