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Exerpts for the Future
Well, my name is Peter. I really like to write, so be prepared to do a lot of reading! I really enjoy Shakespeare and contemporary fantasy. I plan to write every day, and each entry will be an exerpt from books I have not yet written. Be surprised, b
The monotonous task of signing copies of his new book now before him, Nat Hanson slouched back in the recliner chair the book store had offered to him. The seasoned author of four other vampire novels, Hanson knew the loathsomely predictable routine of it all: about an hour or less before he would begin answering questions and signing books, the people would come. In groups, sometimes as many as ten or twenty would surge forth at a time to meet him and only him.
Hanson was clueless as to why. He found his own writing unsatisfactory, even undesirable at those moments when his own dark criticism would surface. He knew his popularity could never have been contingent upon his personal appearances, for, no matter how predictable the flow of the event may be, Hanson always felt cold and sweaty in front of any sizable audience. He could almost always feel his nervousness rise to his face in a rosy hue, alerting everyone just as vividly as a siren would have. Indeed, he hated these events.
His editor had once said in a soft tone lined with admiration," It's because you're young, Bug. They look up to you, and why shouldn't they? I mean, in the name of all things holy, you're twenty-three and doing things that people twice your age dream of, Bug! Honestly, I don't blame them, and I think you are still way too hard on yourself." She had used his pet name then, the one he pretended to resent for their sakes, but had always treasured on an entirely conscious level.
Yes, he was very close to his editor, and she had stuck with him through every possible nightmare.
Now, as Nat relaxed in his chair, he continuously berated himself for not being with her at the hotel that morning. She had been hurting, and, like an awkward fool, Nat had left her. And of course she had been hurting! She had just lost her father! Had Nat himself not hurt when his own father died after repeated bouts with cancer? Looking back, Nat realized with abstract shock that, no, he had felt nothing.
And with that thought lingering in his under-appreciated mind, Nat welcomed the first of his guests to the book signing.





 
 
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