Written With Hearts

Written With Hearts - Chapter Two

Abby...

"Can you believe that we're actually going to your first ever book signing, Abs?" KC is smiling through a grimace, trying to force yet another bag into the already overfull car boot.

The nerves wildly flutter around in my empty stomach, unsure of what to expect. I've seen all the pics that other authors have shared of their times at book signings, but now it's finally my turn, I'm nervous as hell.

As prepared as I thought I was, I have no real idea of what it's truly going to be like. I think I have everything that I need. I have my special writing pens. I have my beloved paperbacks and my shitload of swag; signed book marks, badges, magnets with my book covers on them, and I have many sweets to offer all those that I hope, will eagerly come to my table. I even have hundreds of the very embarrassing, author profile pics, that KC insisted on bringing. I hope she's bloody right about those things. I don't want people to think I'm this newbie, but very vain indie author, who just loves to dish out signed pics of herself. Inwardly, I cringe at the very thought. "KC, I think the boot is full, let me take that." I retrieve the squished make-up bag from being flattened further by my excited, preoccupied friend.

"Thanks, hun," she chirpily chimes, as she slams the boot down really hard.

"Let's check we have everything. Directions . . . Handbag . . . Purse . . . Water . . . Chewing gum?" I playfully say, using a loud and over the top military drill tone of voice.

KC raises her brow, giving me a knowing smirk. "This is me you're talking to. Everything that needs to be in the car, is in the damn car," she confidently retorts.

I laugh, knowing that KC is far too organised to ever forget a single thing. "Okay . . . okay! Let's just get in the car, bossy boots!" I tease, getting into the passenger side, because KC doesn't trust me to drive to the signing. To be fair, I'm pretty shit with navigation. Throw nerves into the mix and I really would be a navigational nightmare.

"Are you ready, Thelma?" KC looks at me with excitement, her hands eagerly gripping the steering wheel.

I laugh, tipping my head back against the headrest. "I'm ready, Louise!"

Feeling like we are in the film, about to embark on one hell of a road trip, we both cheer as KC starts up the engine and starts driving.

Our destination is Milton Keynes, a place called Green Acres Hotel and Spa. It is a large resort hotel that hosts many large events and conventions. Although the actual signing isn't until tomorrow, most authors prefer to get there the day before to set up early the next morning. It's also a good chance to meet people before the big day. Our host, VB Booker, a successful indie with a fabulously ironic pen name; has organised a mix and mingle in the hotel bar at seven this evening. I can't wait to meet all the other author lovelies and those who have become firm fans of my work. Since announcing that I would be doing the Milton Keynes signing, I've had many messages from bloggers and readers, all who say that they're going to be staying at the hotel, too. Apparently, there is going to be quite a few voddies with my name on them, sweetly lined up for me to drink this evening. Though I shan't be getting too messy. I need to have a clear head for my big day tomorrow. It's just that my author motto always is: Read . . . Smile . . . Drink vodka.
I write that silly but poignant summation on anything that I sign for readers, so it has kind of become my authorly thing. Those who fondly follow my work, and me, know that fun motto.

With KC happily driving beside me, and the occasional chitchat during the journey, I'm quickly becoming a mixture of excitement, fear, and anticipation. When you are sat behind a computer screen, you can almost become anyone. You can create this sassy persona that people really do like. I have always tried to just be myself, always. But what if when people finally do meet me, they are in some way disappointed? What if I don't meet their expectations? What if we, actually don't click? My errant thoughts do little to appease my already building nerves. The closer we get to our destination, the more my nerves build.