In My Head

I’m so lost in this book. The characters are coming to life in front of me. Tweet’s, “I Was Created for This,” is playing in the background. My foot is tapping as I sway in my seat. I’m writing a powerful scene between my new favorite couple.

Tears are spilling over as I feel the emotions of my hero and heroine. The words are pouring out. I can see it all happening in my head. My scalp feels like it’s tingling and goosebumps cover my skin. Writing is such a high for me. The music is only enhancing the euphoria pumping though my veins.

I type in the finishing touches to close the scene and my mind starts to work on where I want to go from here. Picking up my notes I look through my timeline from the previous book. Chewing on the pad of my thumb, my thoughts start to come together.

Seeing just where I need to go. All of the dots start to connect. I’m totally in the zone. I’m vaguely aware of the fact that at some point, I’ll have to get up to use the bathroom and to eat.

The phone rings in the middle of me grasping a string of thoughts. Trying to follow the path through without losing it, I pick up the phone—not bothering to check for who’s calling. I need to keep this book going if I want to finish on time.

“Hello,” I say into the line jotting down a few things I want to hold onto.

“Hey, Kaye,” Bonnie’s voice greets my ears.

I scrunch my face and poke out my lip. I should have looked at the caller ID. I could’ve let this call go. I want to get this done.

“Hey, what’s up? I’m in the middle of a scene. Do you need something?” I ask absentmindedly.

“Oh, I just wanted to check in and see if you’ve been sharing the event,” she replies.

“Oh, I’ve mentioned it. I’ll have to post or something later,” I murmur.

“Oh, okay. Thank you for posting. I want to get the word out there. This is going to be so great,” she gushes.

“Yeah, I’m sure it is. I’m excited about it. Listen, I’m working on this book. I’ll talk to you later,” I say as I read over the last thing I wrote.

“I can’t wait for the next book. Your books give me life. I’m still fanning myself over Tristan,” she says. “I can’t wait until you get to his best friend.”

“Yeah, I’m looking forward to writing that one,” I say as my mind tries to shift to Lexington’s book.

I have to stop that train wreck from happening. I need to stay focused on these characters. If I start thinking about others, I’ll get totally derailed and will have to start notes or pages on that story just to move forward in this one.

Not happening today. Nope!

“I’m sure it’s going to be hot,” Bonnie coos.

“Yeah, we’ll see. Well, I’m going to get back to this one though,” I say by way of ending this call.

“Girl, I don’t know how you do it. You create magic every time. I just love how their stories come together. Not a lot of authors can do what you do,” she replies, not catching a hint.

“To each its own,” I mumble.

“I was reading Vanity’s latest book. It’s not as good as the Clever Love Series. It just didn’t flow. I think it’s because she’s going through some things in her personal life. Between her health and her husband that has to be a lot,” she continues.

“No disrespect, but that’s not feeding me or my son. So it’s none of my business. I’m about these books that put food on my table. If it’s not making me money, I don’t have time for it,” I say in frustration.

I’m so serious. I’m trying to focus. I don’t even know the author she’s talking about. Sure, I’ve seen her books and I think I read one or two of hers in the past, but I don’t know her personally.

Even if I did, none of this is my problem or business. My mind is still stringing my book together. I start to filter out the noise that is Bonnie.

“I hear you. I do. It’s just some authors could be…”

I’ve tuned her out. This has become a pattern with her. I say I have to go and she starts a new topic. Total pet peeve of mine. Goodbye does not mean continue. I zone in on my book before me.

Oh yes, want to get that in there. Maybe, I should move this scene down a bit. I feel like I haven’t established the connection enough yet. If I add a scene in here…

“I’m telling you. She has no idea what she’s doing. Her husband is a good friend of mine. We’re working on a few things together. That’s how I know her. She used to write so much better, the mess she’s been putting out lately though,” Bonnie is rambling into the phone.

I’m not listening to a word she’s saying. This book is talking so loud. I need to get this stuff down. I scribble a few more notes before I put my pen down and start typing again.

“Mmm, oh, okay,” I say into the phone.

I think I’m answering in all the right places. She keeps going so I must be. At this point, I truly don’t care. She’s changed the subject to something else. Some PA or something, but I’m still focused on my task at hand.

I’m lost in the words before me. This book is coming to life. I need to get as much done as I can before Dae-Dae gets home and needs my full attention. I don’t know how much time goes by before I tune back in.

“I don’t know what book they were reading. I loved Paradise Is,” Bonnie says pulling at the edge of my attention.

It’s the title of my last book. I wasn’t listening to what she was saying before now. I’ve been adding in words to the conversation here and there trying not to be rude.

I’m on complete autopilot. With a three year old and a busy career you learn to half listen and interact. I’ll most likely be able to play back this conversation hours from now if I care to, but I’m totally not invested at the moment.

Well, until the mention of my book.

“I’m sorry what was that?” I say, shifting my focus back to the call.

“I was reading the reviews of Paradise is. Those one and two star reviews are a mess,” she replies.

I frown at the phone. The last thing I want to talk about while creating is reviews I avoid in the first place. I know I should end this and hang up, but curiosity always kills the cat. Like a fool, I take the bait.

“I don’t read the reviews. My friends read them for me and tell me anything that’s constructive,” I say chewing on my lip.

Felix, Dean, and Kia read reviews for me. I value all of their opinions. I know they’d be honest with me. They used to tell me all the time when something was missing. They tell me when a review has a good point about something we all may not have thought about.

I understand not every book is perfect to everyone. There will always be something someone wants more or less of. It’s about my craft and what I thought was needed in the end. However, there’s always a time or two when the light bulb goes off on a skill I can tweak.

“Oh, I get that. That makes sense because those reviews are a lot of BS. You’re an amazing storyteller. I think you captured the heroine perfectly. There was nothing whiny about her at all.

“I mean I didn’t like Amina from Brave Hearts, but Charlese was everything,” she sings into the line.

“What was wrong with Amina?” I ask, making more faces.

“Well,” she draws out. “She wasn’t my favorite. I still liked the book, but she got on my nerves.”

I know I shouldn’t, but I take my butt right to my reviews. Felix and the girls would kill me if they knew. This is a rabbit hole we all agreed I wouldn’t go down.

My shoulders sag as I start to read the reviews. Some of them are so harsh. Not harsh and constructive, but harsh and cruel. I shove my fingers into my hair and place my elbow on the desk before me. My brows knit as my eyes scan the page.

My blackness is actually being questioned. Wow, I’ve never not identified myself as a black woman. My dad will tell you in a heartbeat that he’s a black man, Samoan or now. I’ve always believed my characters to portray the women I grow up around—black women.

“This is so wrong. Like, what the hell?” I whisper. “This has nothing to do with the book.”

I blink back a few tears while reading one review in particular. It’s an extremely cruel one because it’s filled with lies and things that never happened or have any existence in my book. Why tell someone to not read my work just because you didn’t have a taste for it. Especially when it’s clear they didn’t read the book. If they did, it’s clear it was without comprehension.

Wow.

“Dude, the fuck?” I hear growled over my shoulder.

I jump, turning my head up to see Felix looking down at me with concern. He cups my face, wiping my tears with his thumbs. Reaching for my computer he closes the browser.

“I have to go,” I call into the phone still resting on the desk.

Felix cuts the call, tugging me from my seat. He pulls me into his arms, engulfing me in his presence. I can feel him pouring love into me. I need it so much more than he knows. Those were some of the most hateful words I’ve ever read about my books.

“You can’t be reading that shit. I thought we talked about this. Dean and Kia told you not to get caught up in that crap,” Felix says into my hair.

He’s words soften as he chides me. I know finding me in tears wasn’t something he expected to walk in on. It dawns on me that I’d been on the phone for way longer than I thought—hours.

The madness has to stop. I don’t even know what the hell she was talking about half the time. Ugh!

A Fan

She never stays on the phone long when he’s around. It’s like he forces her off the phone or something. I bet he’s abusive. He sounds so controlling.

I dial Lisa. I still have time before I need to call one of my other author friends. She works during the day. I’ll catch up with her tonight. Vanity is a mess, she needs me.

“Hello,” Lisa answers the line.

“Hey, Girl,” I chirp into the line.

“Hey, how are you?”

“I’m good. I was having a great conversation with Kaye until her boyfriend came home. I’m concerned about her. I think he may be abusive,” I reply.

“What? Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard them argue before. Just now, he came in the house cursing at her and she rushed off the phone. It was so bad,” I tell her.

“That’s so messed up. She seems like such a sweet girl. She doesn’t mention her personal life that much so I don’t know anything about him really. I hope she takes care of herself,” Lisa says in concern.

“Yeah, I hope so. I’ll check in on her tomorrow. You know, to make sure she’s okay. I don’t want to cause any problems calling back today.”

“Yeah, I don’t think you should,” Lisa replies.

“It’s so sad. She’s so talented and writes about love. You would think she would want better.”

“You never know people’s story. Listen, I have to get back to my kid’s homework. I’ll call you back later,” Lisa says.

“Oh, did you get my email. I want to go over the list of authors I booked,” I say.

“I got it. We can go over it later.”

“Okay, we need to stay on top of things,” I say.

“Yeah, about that. I need to get back to the vendors tomorrow. Something went wrong with the check you sent over and the contract,” Lisa says.

“Oh, I’ll look into that. You work on the kid’s homework. We can talk later, girl,” I say quickly. “I have that stuff right in front of me. You don’t have to worry about it.”

“Oh, alright,” Lisa replies, as one of her kids calls for her in the background.

“Later,” I sing and hang up.

Maybe I should get lost in a book for a few hours. Yes, that’s what I’ll do.