A Glimpse Into My Mind

Her Eyes

The room is lit only by lamps on small tables and twinkling string lights strung across bookshelves. The world outside is dark and the clock ticks, changing from one day to the next. Midnight. Chitter-chatter, buzzing, and laughter ring in my ears. 12:03. Twenty-five people, ten people, three people ahead of me. 12:27. Before them? The man that changed my life.

Since grade school, novels have occupied every minute of my time, taken every penny from my bank account, filled my dreams and my Christmas lists. Reading has been my only hobby for twenty something years. It's all I do. Going to an appointment? Bring a book for the waiting room. Cleaning the house? Put an audiobook on the TV. Need to make friends? Join a bookclub.

That's exactly what I did when my fiancé and I moved to Manhattan; I joined a bookclub. Little did I know I had been waiting my whole life to read that first book. Kane Ashley, the man who I am moments away from meeting, wrote Midnight in Her Eyes two years ago. Daisy picked it for our book club 18 months ago. The novel shot to the top of New York Times' bestseller list within 3 months of its publication, and stayed there. Midnight in Her Eyes made its way to the bookshelf of every young woman in America within a year–and rightfully so.

During our discussion, we all marveled at the fact this novel was written by a man. Not in a sexist way, but in the sense that the novel so perfectly captured what it felt like to be a young woman coming into adulthood. For a while, some of us were convinced that Kane Ashely's wife helped write it, until we found out he was unmarried.

I remember the first time I read the novel. I felt seen. The protagonist, Hannah–who I coincidentally shared a name with–went through the same experiences that I had. When she graduated college, she had a massive falling out with her high school best friend, just as I did, just as the other women in my book club had experienced. The similarities didn't stop there. Her experience with depression mirrored my own. Hannah–the character and myself–stayed awake well into the early morning hours obsessing over the details of life. We both found isolation at midnight. The world is quiet and we let our mind devour us. The way Mr. Ashley described her spiraling thoughts made me feel seen. Later in the novel, Hannah's fiancé reminded me of my own.

I had never felt so understood by someone, let alone an author who didn't even know I existed. When our book club was notified about Ashely's signing at a local bookstore, all thirteen of us women bought tickets. The signing would be held at midnight. Fitting. I was so excited I could barely get through the day. The hours were longer than usual and I began to wish the signing was earlier in the day. I could hardly wait.

There were so many questions I wanted to ask, but I knew my time would be limited. I settled with the plan of simply thanking Mr. Ashley for writing this novel and changing my life.

***

"Remember to breathe, Hannah," Daisy stood in line behind me, whispering over my shoulder. My grin grew, nodding as I clutched my copy of the novel to my chest.

My eyes widened and my smile grew as the line in front of me grew shorter and I could finally see Kane Ashely in his entirety. He sat hunched over the plastic, folding table with a dark purple tablecloth covering it. On the left of the table were flyers for Mr. Ashley's upcoming events. To the right was another table with merchandise for sale, one of the bookstore employees manning the register. Mr. Ashley sat in the middle. His hair was a dark brown with few streaks of gray highlighting it. He wasn't clean-shaven, just a short stubble around his chin and lips. His blue eyes sparkled in the dim light as he looked up smiling, handing the signed copy back to the woman standing in front of me.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Ashley." I could hear the blush in her voice.

"It's my pleasure," he responded, his voice like dark silk.