The Drumbeat Years (girlxgirl)

10

10

20th. July 1996 - Evening

The rest of the day passed so slow. A steady stream of admirers of her work came and went. Complimenting her, begging her for a full-length novel, critiquing her. One woman spent almost ten minutes telling Tina how much she loved her short stories, but then went on to pick at everything she had written, telling Tina what she should have written, instead. She smiled and nodded and made several glances towards the increasingly irritated line next to the woman.

After that woman left, much to Tina's relief, time seemed to slow down even more. Looking at her watch for, perhaps, the millionth time, she couldn't believe that a second hand could stop for so long between ticks. And still the line came, as though the convention goers were breeding in the dark corners of the hotel, intent on taking over the world with platitudes and bland questions.

How did she come up with her ideas? Had she always wanted to be a writer? Were any of her characters modelled upon anyone in real life?

When the fifth person to ask her if she could write the story for their 'amazing' idea, with co-author credit, of course, Tina felt about ready to fling her arms up in the air and drink the entire hotel bar dry. And then, as though someone had clicked their fingers, or waved a magic wand, the crowds began to diminish. The room became less crowded and she saw several of the other creators start to pack away their things.

The day had, finally, come to an end, with only stragglers and convention staff remaining, wandering around as though they had no idea what they should do next. Tina still sat, however, pen twisting between her fingers, rictus grin still held in place. Now the fans had dispersed, she wished it could have continued for longer. The end of the day prompted the beginning of the night and everything that that entailed.

Rolling her jaw, rubbing her fingers at the edges, under her ears, Tina began to relax. Only in one way, however. The tension of dealing with fans had gone, replaced with indecisions about how to spend the night. She looked down at her little, assigned table, where the stack of her short story collection had reduced to only a handful of copies. She hadn't realised how many she had sold.

Likewise, the shoe box had far more five and ten pound notes in it than she remembered taking from the fans. Now that she thought of it, more than a few had bought several copies. She knew, now, that she didn't have enough left for the Sunday shift of signings and wondered if she could find somewhere that could print any more before the next morning.

Shaking her head, she chose to believe that this day, the Saturday, was an aberration. A bump created by first day excitement. Tomorrow, the convention goers would have calmed down. She had enough copies, more than likely.

"God! My hand aches!" Falling to her knees before Tina's table, Mel spread her arms upon the surface, resting her forehead before making a dramatic attempt at standing. "And we do it all again tomorrow! Why, Tina? Why do we do this?"

"Because we're literary attention whores?" She laughed at the mock shocked face of Mel, all open-mouthed and weepy eyed.

"Speak for yourself!" Shifting her backside onto Tina's desk, Mel fanned out the remaining copies of Tina's collection. "You've got more in your room, right? Sundays are worse. Speaking of which, drinks, our room. You'll need them to be ready for tomorrow."

"I don't think I want to drink tonight. It's been a long day. So long." Thinking about it, Tina raised a questioning look to Mel. "What about the competition? Don't you have to finish your story?"

"How'd you know? Already done. Russell and I have relayed it during the day. While I sign, he writes, while he signs I write. We're very efficient." She gave an exaggerated wink. Technically, Mel and Russel weren't published. They were on the schedule for release. "Besides, we already had an idea we've been working on for a few weeks. It was just a matter of getting it on to the page. How about you? What wondrous things will we see from you?"