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Epilogue: Can I Have Your Autograph?

Johnny opened his eyes, the red leather of the Tilt’n Diner sticking to his shirt, as he looked back at the short stack of papers for the second time in a minute. It was gonna be hard, but he knew what he was gonna write, and how. Sure, the ending in his mind was a bit too rushed, and some things didn’t make sense and weren’t fleshed out, but he would work on those as he wrote. That was what multiple drafts were for, and where editors came in. And since this was his first time writing a major book for a publishing house, he was going to have a few people to talk to to help him with the project. “I can make this work. I know I can…”

Months later, and The Longest Road Trip was a massive success on the New York Times bestsellers list. Part of the reason came from how the book was publicized, as bits of it were released online over time, for the community to talk about and help with the all-around editing process. Some things were unchanged for “reasons”, as Johnny Summers had written on the websites. “It will all be explained at an FAQ the publishers plan to host once the book comes out. We don’t want too many questions answered, as it gives guests things to ask me in the future. So please, leave all questions ready for when the book comes out.”

And so, there sat Johnny in a pair of khakis and a blue dress shirt, smiling in front of a crowd and hiding the fact that he was terrified. He had an idea of what kind of questions people would ask, and he was ready for them. The room he sat in was a simple conference hall at a hotel, with three aisles breaking apart two squares of chairs. A microphone sat at the end of the middle aisle, and camera crews in the back of the room made sure the FAQ was being streamed for all who couldn’t make it around the country. Johnny cleared his throat before speaking into his own microphone. “If we could have everybody who wants to ask a question come one at a time, that would be very much appreciated. We don’t want to block the cameras, or have anybody tripping over wires and hurting themselves. I can see some of you are dressed up as your favorite characters, and I have to say it’s very flattering. A little terrifying to me, to be honest, but flattering.”

The crowd got a kick out of that, and its helped Johnny ease up a bit. He had no feeling that something bad would happen, especially since he had not received a single death threat during any part of the writing. He smiled as a young man in his teens was the first person to take the mic, and the boy couldn’t help but shake a bit as he asked his question. “H-Hi Mr Summers, I was j-just curious about the cursing in the book, since you have some words but you don’t use them as much as other authors who write similar stories. Is that ok to ask?”

“Of course kid, of course! Well to me, writing and all forms of art should be able to be enjoyed by everybody. Now I can understand that some pieces of work, like porn, are meant for a much older audience, but I wanted my first book to be something that anybody could enjoy, no matter the age. I wanted to be able to get fans from all walks of life, as the book has a little something for everybody, don’t you think? It’s a story the family could enjoy. Does that answer your question?”

As the boy nodded and turned to walk away for the next person to have their turn, Johnny couldn’t help but smile. The kid was brave enough to walk up to the podium all by himself, and he was reminded of his brother. Sure enough, an older woman walked up, dressed up in a waitress outfit. “Hello Mr Summers, my name is Ruth. My question for you is, what motivated you to write about yourself and your brother in the manner that you did?”

“Hello Ruth, excellent question! Now, when you say ‘the manner that you did’, can you elaborate on what you mean?”

She nodded gently, and continued. “Well Mr Summers, you’re a young man in your 30’s who has just successfully written his first novel, which started out as a short story. At the beginning of your book your brother’s voice is coming from the tape recorder, and he says he’s recording it in 1997. Now while the book makes it seem like you and your brother were adults, and you were old enough to be an already well-established writer, in reality you two would have been kids, not even teens yet, in that year. So if I may be so bold, why write yourselves as older gentlemen?”

Johnny looked at Ruth, sighing a bit. “This is one of those loaded questions I knew I was going to get tonight, and it still hurts to think about sometimes. As some of you may or may not know, I did have a brother who is no longer with us. He hasn’t been for some time, and it’s one of the reasons why he exists in the book in the manner that he does. Our father, much like the way I write him in the book, was the Boogeyman to me. A monster of his own design, he was cruel and heartless and yet helped give creation to my brother and I. He would drink and he had all these friends that my imagination just thinks of now as these monsters that he helped fuel with his ways, and…as some of you may know, he was arrested a year after that tape was recorded. The tape is real, and it was his way to set up a story. He knew I loved stories growing up, and the different ways they could be told. So when our father…when that monster ended my brother’s life, I knew I had to make his death mean something. It had to be a grand part of a story, because that’s what he would have wanted. My brother loved how passionate I was, and I loved him. I HAD to hold up my end of the deal. I…” He sighed, pulling his blue dress shirt up a bit as he wiped his eyes on the interior fabric. “I’m sorry, that got really emotional all of a sudden. I apologize…I guess I should wrap my answer up. To make a long story short, I made us older because…because I wanted him to die older than he did. He deserved to have a long life, and I was going to give it to him somehow.”

He sniffled a bit as he watched Ruth walk away, and up next came another young child, this one more confident. He was definitely a teen, and he cleared his throat. “Hello Mr Summers, I was just curious about the ending of the book. You reference a sequel being made, but then on social media you referenced that this was a stand alone novel. I’m new to reading books, I was always more of a movie buff, so maybe the message flew over my head. What were you trying to show with that ending? It was such an abrupt end to the book that it just felt off…”

“Oh don’t worry young man, I can understand completely. Rest assured, this was a stand alone story. So when I wrote that final line of the book, I wanted to give this sense of hope that a new reality would take the place of the old one. One where the monsters, while non-existent, would still be remembered. The book version of me made a promise that they would not be forgotten, and we live in a world that uses monsters like vampires and zombies constantly in our media. I just ended a book in a way that suggested that our reality, the one we currently reside in, is that sequel. A world where all the monsters that used to exist are remembered, and one that’s better in some ways to that original one. Now, was I a bit narcissistic in that regard? Sure! But there are a few writers who have no problem putting themselves in their own works. Stephen King put himself in The Dark Tower, and Stan Lee may be the One Above All that Marvel Comics has from time to time. I hoped that answered your question, and sorry for rambling!”

“No no it’s fine Mr Summers, thank you!” The next person in line came up, an middle-aged man with a trim beard. “Hello Mr Summers! My name is Nathan Pierce, and I’m an English teacher who’s trying to get into writing of his own. I was wondering what some of your influences may be?”

“Ahhh, now there comes the question that could get me and every other writer in trouble in this day and age. You have asked THE loaded question, my good sir. You said you’re a teacher of English, so you must read a lot?”

“I do indeed!”

“Then I think you won’t be surprised when I say that most media these days are a rehash of something else. Our species has been creating stories for a very long time, and that in itself is a big problem. Whenever somebody writes about an ancient civilization from before humanity, or a city lost to time, anybody can go ‘That’s just an Atlantis ripoff’, or El Dorado, or the Mountains of Madness, or any sort of other thing! The first thing your going to notice, when you start writing, is that your style is reflected on what you have read. It’s why you should always be absorbing new books and other mediums, of varying genres. It’s important to keep away from one specific method, because variety is the spice of life. As for the book’s major influences? Well, the road trip parts come from my brother of course, as he always wanted to explore the world before his untimely demise. But the more supernatural bits of it? I have to give that up to Alice Isn’t Dead, this podcast that recently ended. An…well, The Longest Road Trip also has bits of House Of Leaves in it, so I have to give it credit. The main way to write a story these days, sadly, is to not 100% copy your influences. You have to make it your own, via your own life experiences and via changes in the formula. It’s ok to take references, themes, or snippets from other projects, but you have to give it your own spice if you want it to not be a complete ripoff. I hope you find what influences you and make it your own Nathan, and thank you for the writer-to-writer question! I can’t wait to buy a copy of your first novel! Now I have time for one more question before the book signing, so make it a good one!”

The last question-giver walked up, another young teen, this one a female. “Hello Mr Summers, I was wondering what motivates you to write. There are just days where I don’t want to get up or do anything, and it just blows my mind when there are people like you who can create all the time! How do you get the motivation to do that?!”

“Honestly? There are days when I don’t want to do anything either. I think we all get that way sometimes, because of a lot of different reasons. Stress, anger, depression, but you know what keeps me going? It’s this little voice that yells at me, constantly, to write. See, some people have reoccurring dreams, and I decided to put mine in the book. And Eve, she’s right in here…” He smiled, tapping the right side of his head in front of the audience. “And she constantly yells at me. ‘When are you gonna write this part, when are you gonna do this, when are you gonna do that?!’ Sometimes, it feels like I’m married to my own head.” He couldn’t help but grin as a few people in the audience laughed at that, but he pushed on. “And I let her take control. That’s how I get the motivation, I let her motivate me. You have to listen to the voice sometimes, and other times push it away. There are times when the voice will go ‘You’re not good enough, why do you bother’, but you have to look back at all the work you put in so far and go ‘I came this far, just shut up and let me do my thing.’ And you push on, because you know deep down it’s what you need to do. Now sometimes you’ll go down one path in your head and you’ll go ‘This isn’t working, I’ve hit a dead end, I should just quit now’, but you can’t. You shouldn’t! Use that voice in your head and have it go down all the paths, see all the different options, and then you can choose which one is best. It’s how I’ve been living my life, and it’s how I choose what happens in the story next. And honestly, if none of that works for you?” Johnny shrugged, but never stopped smiling. “Then it’s time to take a break from the project or activity in question, or honestly time to quit. If it’s something that is needed for your health, then I’m sorry to say that’s not an option my dear dear audience, but for anything else? It’s ok to take a step back and just stop for a while. Walk away from a project, and when you come back you may see it in a whole new light you never thought possible. That’s honestly the best advice I can give on this situation, so I hoped that helped…”

Johnny then stood up, smiling. “Well, in about a few minutes we’ll be starting the book signings. You can start to leave to be the first in line, but I do have something to say of my own. See, as a writer, I like to think that we each put a mark on this world. Our lives mean something, you know? We are all different and unique, but in the long run we are each a separate chapter of a book known as Reality. Now, whether or not you believe my book was true or not, and all the plot hole area because I wasn’t physically there to see them happen, is irrelevant. What matters is that, here and now, we exist as a people. You are an important part of Reality’s book, whether you believe so or not. Even if you do nothing crazy with your life, like right a novel or build a skyscraper, your chapter is still a major part of the book. So once I sign your copy, or don’t, go out there and make your chapter a good one!”

An hour later, and Johnny’s wrist was getting sore. He hadn’t expected writing autograph after autograph would hurt that much, but twisting his wrist helped ease the tension up a little bit. All he had was one final book to sign and then he would be able to head out for the night. The camera crew had packed up and left, and all the publisher’s people had gone out for drinks. One more book, and he would be joining them soon to celebrate the rest of the night away.

As the book was placed down in front of him, he could hear a female voice speak. “Hi Mr. Summers, I was too afraid to ask a question at the mic…is it ok if I ask it now since there’s no line to hold up?”

“Oh sure, but first, who am I making this out to?”

“Eve.”

He blinked a few times, then chuckled. “Guessing you must not like the character then, sharing the same name and all. So, what’s the question?”

“Do you believe in the idea that this world is not the original? That your story could, in fact, be true?”

He frowned, stopping mid-signature. He didn’t dare look up, and for the life of him he couldn’t understand why. “It’s just a story. There’s no such thing as monsters. Do I sometimes wish it was? Sure, but that’s just my imagination talking. I know it’s just a story, and even then you could argue that all stories are true. That is, if you believe in the multiverse theory. But for this one, I don’t think so. I think it’s just a story my brain came up with, one day while I was sitting in a diner, while it was trying to think of a perfect way to remember my brother.”

As he held the book up, the signature finished, he couldn’t help but get a good look at her. Everything was plain, with the only discernible thing about her being her red hair. “…No way…”

She couldn’t help but smile, taking the book. “I’m just a cosplayer Mr Summers. I was just joking, trying to catch you off guard! I mean, you said it was just a story!” She turned and began to walk away, leaving him alone to pack up for the night. He had to get ready for the after party and drinks, but even then he couldn’t help himself from saying it allowed, to reaffirm the thought.

“Yeah Johnny, come on. It’s just a story…”

Description

Epilogue: Can I Have Your Autograph?

Johnny opened his eyes, the red leather of the Tilt’n Diner sticking to his shirt, as he looked back at the short stack of papers for the second time in a minute. It was gonna be hard, but he knew what he was gonna write, and how. Sure, the ending in his mind was a bit too rushed, and some things didn’t make sense and weren’t fleshed out, but he would work on those as he wrote. That was what multiple drafts were for, and where editors came in. And since this was his first time writing a major book for a publishing house, he was going to have a few people to talk to to help him with the project. “I can make this work. I know I can…”

Months later, and The Longest Road Trip was a massive success on the New York Times bestsellers list. Part of the reason came from how the book was publicized, as bits of it were released online over time, for the community to talk about and help with the all-around editing process. Some things were unchanged for “reasons”, as Johnny Summers had written on the websites. “It will all be explained at an FAQ the publishers plan to host once the book comes out. We don’t want too many questions answered, as it gives guests things to ask me in the future. So please, leave all questions ready for when the book comes out.”

And so, there sat Johnny in a pair of khakis and a blue dress shirt, smiling in front of a crowd and hiding the fact that he was terrified. He had an idea of what kind of questions people would ask, and he was ready for them. The room he sat in was a simple conference hall at a hotel, with three aisles breaking apart two squares of chairs. A microphone sat at the end of the middle aisle, and camera crews in the back of the room made sure the FAQ was being streamed for all who couldn’t make it around the country. Johnny cleared his throat before speaking into his own microphone. “If we could have everybody who wants to ask a question come one at a time, that would be very much appreciated. We don’t want to block the cameras, or have anybody tripping over wires and hurting themselves. I can see some of you are dressed up as your favorite characters, and I have to say it’s very flattering. A little terrifying to me, to be honest, but flattering.”

The crowd got a kick out of that, and its helped Johnny ease up a bit. He had no feeling that something bad would happen, especially since he had not received a single death threat during any part of the writing. He smiled as a young man in his teens was the first person to take the mic, and the boy couldn’t help but shake a bit as he asked his question. “H-Hi Mr Summers, I was j-just curious about the cursing in the book, since you have some words but you don’t use them as much as other authors who write similar stories. Is that ok to ask?”

“Of course kid, of course! Well to me, writing and all forms of art should be able to be enjoyed by everybody. Now I can understand that some pieces of work, like porn, are meant for a much older audience, but I wanted my first book to be something that anybody could enjoy, no matter the age. I wanted to be able to get fans from all walks of life, as the book has a little something for everybody, don’t you think? It’s a story the family could enjoy. Does that answer your question?”

As the boy nodded and turned to walk away for the next person to have their turn, Johnny couldn’t help but smile. The kid was brave enough to walk up to the podium all by himself, and he was reminded of his brother. Sure enough, an older woman walked up, dressed up in a waitress outfit. “Hello Mr Summers, my name is Ruth. My question for you is, what motivated you to write about yourself and your brother in the manner that you did?”

“Hello Ruth, excellent question! Now, when you say ‘the manner that you did’, can you elaborate on what you mean?”

She nodded gently, and continued. “Well Mr Summers, you’re a young man in your 30’s who has just successfully written his first novel, which started out as a short story. At the beginning of your book your brother’s voice is coming from the tape recorder, and he says he’s recording it in 1997. Now while the book makes it seem like you and your brother were adults, and you were old enough to be an already well-established writer, in reality you two would have been kids, not even teens yet, in that year. So if I may be so bold, why write yourselves as older gentlemen?”

Johnny looked at Ruth, sighing a bit. “This is one of those loaded questions I knew I was going to get tonight, and it still hurts to think about sometimes. As some of you may or may not know, I did have a brother who is no longer with us. He hasn’t been for some time, and it’s one of the reasons why he exists in the book in the manner that he does. Our father, much like the way I write him in the book, was the Boogeyman to me. A monster of his own design, he was cruel and heartless and yet helped give creation to my brother and I. He would drink and he had all these friends that my imagination just thinks of now as these monsters that he helped fuel with his ways, and…as some of you may know, he was arrested a year after that tape was recorded. The tape is real, and it was his way to set up a story. He knew I loved stories growing up, and the different ways they could be told. So when our father…when that monster ended my brother’s life, I knew I had to make his death mean something. It had to be a grand part of a story, because that’s what he would have wanted. My brother loved how passionate I was, and I loved him. I HAD to hold up my end of the deal. I…” He sighed, pulling his blue dress shirt up a bit as he wiped his eyes on the interior fabric. “I’m sorry, that got really emotional all of a sudden. I apologize…I guess I should wrap my answer up. To make a long story short, I made us older because…because I wanted him to die older than he did. He deserved to have a long life, and I was going to give it to him somehow.”

He sniffled a bit as he watched Ruth walk away, and up next came another young child, this one more confident. He was definitely a teen, and he cleared his throat. “Hello Mr Summers, I was just curious about the ending of the book. You reference a sequel being made, but then on social media you referenced that this was a stand alone novel. I’m new to reading books, I was always more of a movie buff, so maybe the message flew over my head. What were you trying to show with that ending? It was such an abrupt end to the book that it just felt off…”

“Oh don’t worry young man, I can understand completely. Rest assured, this was a stand alone story. So when I wrote that final line of the book, I wanted to give this sense of hope that a new reality would take the place of the old one. One where the monsters, while non-existent, would still be remembered. The book version of me made a promise that they would not be forgotten, and we live in a world that uses monsters like vampires and zombies constantly in our media. I just ended a book in a way that suggested that our reality, the one we currently reside in, is that sequel. A world where all the monsters that used to exist are remembered, and one that’s better in some ways to that original one. Now, was I a bit narcissistic in that regard? Sure! But there are a few writers who have no problem putting themselves in their own works. Stephen King put himself in The Dark Tower, and Stan Lee may be the One Above All that Marvel Comics has from time to time. I hoped that answered your question, and sorry for rambling!”

“No no it’s fine Mr Summers, thank you!” The next person in line came up, an middle-aged man with a trim beard. “Hello Mr Summers! My name is Nathan Pierce, and I’m an English teacher who’s trying to get into writing of his own. I was wondering what some of your influences may be?”

“Ahhh, now there comes the question that could get me and every other writer in trouble in this day and age. You have asked THE loaded question, my good sir. You said you’re a teacher of English, so you must read a lot?”

“I do indeed!”

“Then I think you won’t be surprised when I say that most media these days are a rehash of something else. Our species has been creating stories for a very long time, and that in itself is a big problem. Whenever somebody writes about an ancient civilization from before humanity, or a city lost to time, anybody can go ‘That’s just an Atlantis ripoff’, or El Dorado, or the Mountains of Madness, or any sort of other thing! The first thing your going to notice, when you start writing, is that your style is reflected on what you have read. It’s why you should always be absorbing new books and other mediums, of varying genres. It’s important to keep away from one specific method, because variety is the spice of life. As for the book’s major influences? Well, the road trip parts come from my brother of course, as he always wanted to explore the world before his untimely demise. But the more supernatural bits of it? I have to give that up to Alice Isn’t Dead, this podcast that recently ended. An…well, The Longest Road Trip also has bits of House Of Leaves in it, so I have to give it credit. The main way to write a story these days, sadly, is to not 100% copy your influences. You have to make it your own, via your own life experiences and via changes in the formula. It’s ok to take references, themes, or snippets from other projects, but you have to give it your own spice if you want it to not be a complete ripoff. I hope you find what influences you and make it your own Nathan, and thank you for the writer-to-writer question! I can’t wait to buy a copy of your first novel! Now I have time for one more question before the book signing, so make it a good one!”

The last question-giver walked up, another young teen, this one a female. “Hello Mr Summers, I was wondering what motivates you to write. There are just days where I don’t want to get up or do anything, and it just blows my mind when there are people like you who can create all the time! How do you get the motivation to do that?!”

“Honestly? There are days when I don’t want to do anything either. I think we all get that way sometimes, because of a lot of different reasons. Stress, anger, depression, but you know what keeps me going? It’s this little voice that yells at me, constantly, to write. See, some people have reoccurring dreams, and I decided to put mine in the book. And Eve, she’s right in here…” He smiled, tapping the right side of his head in front of the audience. “And she constantly yells at me. ‘When are you gonna write this part, when are you gonna do this, when are you gonna do that?!’ Sometimes, it feels like I’m married to my own head.” He couldn’t help but grin as a few people in the audience laughed at that, but he pushed on. “And I let her take control. That’s how I get the motivation, I let her motivate me. You have to listen to the voice sometimes, and other times push it away. There are times when the voice will go ‘You’re not good enough, why do you bother’, but you have to look back at all the work you put in so far and go ‘I came this far, just shut up and let me do my thing.’ And you push on, because you know deep down it’s what you need to do. Now sometimes you’ll go down one path in your head and you’ll go ‘This isn’t working, I’ve hit a dead end, I should just quit now’, but you can’t. You shouldn’t! Use that voice in your head and have it go down all the paths, see all the different options, and then you can choose which one is best. It’s how I’ve been living my life, and it’s how I choose what happens in the story next. And honestly, if none of that works for you?” Johnny shrugged, but never stopped smiling. “Then it’s time to take a break from the project or activity in question, or honestly time to quit. If it’s something that is needed for your health, then I’m sorry to say that’s not an option my dear dear audience, but for anything else? It’s ok to take a step back and just stop for a while. Walk away from a project, and when you come back you may see it in a whole new light you never thought possible. That’s honestly the best advice I can give on this situation, so I hoped that helped…”

Johnny then stood up, smiling. “Well, in about a few minutes we’ll be starting the book signings. You can start to leave to be the first in line, but I do have something to say of my own. See, as a writer, I like to think that we each put a mark on this world. Our lives mean something, you know? We are all different and unique, but in the long run we are each a separate chapter of a book known as Reality. Now, whether or not you believe my book was true or not, and all the plot hole area because I wasn’t physically there to see them happen, is irrelevant. What matters is that, here and now, we exist as a people. You are an important part of Reality’s book, whether you believe so or not. Even if you do nothing crazy with your life, like right a novel or build a skyscraper, your chapter is still a major part of the book. So once I sign your copy, or don’t, go out there and make your chapter a good one!”

An hour later, and Johnny’s wrist was getting sore. He hadn’t expected writing autograph after autograph would hurt that much, but twisting his wrist helped ease the tension up a little bit. All he had was one final book to sign and then he would be able to head out for the night. The camera crew had packed up and left, and all the publisher’s people had gone out for drinks. One more book, and he would be joining them soon to celebrate the rest of the night away.

As the book was placed down in front of him, he could hear a female voice speak. “Hi Mr. Summers, I was too afraid to ask a question at the mic…is it ok if I ask it now since there’s no line to hold up?”

“Oh sure, but first, who am I making this out to?”

“Eve.”

He blinked a few times, then chuckled. “Guessing you must not like the character then, sharing the same name and all. So, what’s the question?”

“Do you believe in the idea that this world is not the original? That your story could, in fact, be true?”

He frowned, stopping mid-signature. He didn’t dare look up, and for the life of him he couldn’t understand why. “It’s just a story. There’s no such thing as monsters. Do I sometimes wish it was? Sure, but that’s just my imagination talking. I know it’s just a story, and even then you could argue that all stories are true. That is, if you believe in the multiverse theory. But for this one, I don’t think so. I think it’s just a story my brain came up with, one day while I was sitting in a diner, while it was trying to think of a perfect way to remember my brother.”

As he held the book up, the signature finished, he couldn’t help but get a good look at her. Everything was plain, with the only discernible thing about her being her red hair. “…No way…”

She couldn’t help but smile, taking the book. “I’m just a cosplayer Mr Summers. I was just joking, trying to catch you off guard! I mean, you said it was just a story!” She turned and began to walk away, leaving him alone to pack up for the night. He had to get ready for the after party and drinks, but even then he couldn’t help himself from saying it allowed, to reaffirm the thought.

“Yeah Johnny, come on. It’s just a story…”