I just can’t get over what happened to me on my flight coming home from Las Vegas tonight. It’s 2 a.m. and I should be in bed, but I just can’t stop myself from writing. But that’s what writers do, we write our best when we are truly inspired.
This morning before I checked out of my hotel I hit the gym and then the steam room after. While I was steaming, I was the only one there, so I decided to make another attempt at meditating. I focused on breathing in all the good and exhaling all the second-hand smoke I had breathed in over the week. I really tried to clear my mind and ask, “what is next for me?” I’m now just about done with my memoir that I’ve been working on forever, and will soon be ready to start another book.
Please, universe, give me something.
Fast forward to flight 933 on Southwest Airlines. The seating on that airline is a lottery, so you get A, B, or C. I was A. Lucky me. I was sure to have a good seat and I selected row 2, aisle. About ten minutes later a guy excused himself so he could squeeze past me into the middle seat. After we took off I pulled out my laptop so I could continue to edit my book when really I should have napped.
After I had worked for about an hour the guy said, “Excuse me but are you a writer?”
“Well, sort of. I’m just about done with my first book, so I don’t know if that make me a writer or not, but I like to think that I am. I love to write.” I said, wondering if he had read anything I had written, and hoping not because the chapter I had worked on was a bit heavy. Not something you want a perfect stranger reading over your shoulder.
He looked at me and said, “I’ve been looking for someone to ghost write a story that I have to tell. You have to hear my story.”
The passion in his voice peaked my interest immediately.
“Oh do tell!” I said.
He went on to tell me the most unbelievable story, more bizarre and exciting than I can say. I’m still trying to process it all, it’s the kind of story that becomes a blockbuster hit. It is a national story, it’s been all over the news, and this random stranger, wants me to write it. Everything just seemed to mesh. What he needed and what I was willing to do fit together perfectly. He just so happens to live in Pittsburgh, an hour away from where I live. Coincidence? I think not. Fate? Just maybe.
I listened to his story for over an hour and I was so intrigued. I couldn’t quit listening and asking questions and he couldn’t quit talking. He needed an ear, and I needed a story. I’m not sure where this all will lead but we are meeting next week to talk more and to maybe even have a contract drawn up to get this ball rolling.
I will keep you posted!!