Jacqueline Carey

Last night I went to Jacqueline Carey’s book signing at the Powell’s in Cedar Hills.  Jacqueline Carey and Donna Gillespie are my two favorite authors and Jacqueline’s series Kushiel’s Legacy is my favorite set of books. I reread them consistently, and buy multiple copies as loners and gifts.

Four years ago I learned she would be the guest of honor at a writer’s conference in Seattle, and like any good stalker I signed up to go meet her and mingle with fellow writers.  It was one of the best weekends I had in regards to my craft and learning I was not alone in the world with this burning need to tell stories and capture imaginations.

As it turned out, there were almost 30 erotica and romance writers there as well and I found a niche with my fellow deviants.

At the same time I had a chance to meet Jacqueline and it was my first real star shock.  I’ve met movie stars and been at parties with big actors and actresses. It doesn’t impress me the way that a finely tunes book with sweat and tears and blood poured into it does.

I’d showed up at the conference which was small and intimate, having just gotten off the train and ridden in a cab I felt dirty and tired and walked into a room where Jacqueline was talking in a group.  I sat in a chair near the back and nibbled on the snack foods that were prepared and listened to her talk and all I could think about was, “ohmygod.ohmygod.ohmygod. She’s here! The best writer ever! And she’s so nice!” I was intimidated and scared of her and as if she somehow knew this, she turned to me and said, “Why don’t you come take this empty seat and join the discussion?”

I shuffled forward and sat nearby and although I have no idea what I said – I’m sure it was pure unintelligent drivel and babbling.

Over the next few days my fear of her wore off as we sat over lunch or dinner or ambled around on the back deck of the hotel while people smoked. There was plenty of opportunities to ask questions and as my star shock wore off it was immediately replaced by a firm and powerful admiration for her character which only elevated my opinion of her writing.

Jacqueline Carey is a very beautiful woman, physically and energetically.  She was kind and patient with a girl still figuring out how to grab the dream of writing. She answered questions, offered encouragement and never outwardly expressed any negative judgments.  In short. She was brilliant and I treasure that conference experience for having been able to meet her and several other brilliant people.

As it happened, on the last night when we were all standing around out back and telling stories, mostly erotica based and comical, (I guess what happens when you have a professional dominatrix, Mistress Aries, a famous erotic fantasy writer, Jacqueline Carey and a loud mouthed shameless spotlight whore – myself) and a good deal of alcohol floating around. Anyway, as stories of penning and torture emerged and the laughs started, I remember stepping up and telling my story about ginger figging. A funny, painful story that I share with some people – I was internally astounded that I was sharing it with stranger, much less in the presence of a writer I idolized.

The next morning before leaving she posed with pictures and I promises to send her copies (which I never did).

Honestly, even though I knew she was going to be signing last night, I hadn’t planned on going.

After a crappy day at work, I made the choice to leave early and drive out to Beaverton for the signing.  I milled around Powell’s for awhile while the line was really long. Picked up some books on scriptwriting and the last three books of her series. I was the second to last person in line and I walked up – I knew she wouldn’t recognize me and honestly had no secret desire to be recognized, because quite simply that would be ridiculously unfair to expect of someone.

I asked for her to sign the books to Athena and told her congratulations and said it was “very nice to meet you.”

I left and as I was driving away, I thought, “God! That sounded so insincere! I made it intentionally sound like I have never seen her before in my life! Because I didn’t want to feel like a stupid stalker fan. How fake. It wasn’t honest to her and it wasn’t honest to me. I should go apologize!”

I drove past a sign that said, “Trust your gut.” Pizza Schmizza and started laughing.

“Okay. So I’m a fan. A really big fan. What is there to be ashamed of in that? I mean really? Why am I embarrassed to call myself a serious fan of someone’s work? Does that make me sound like a stalker? Okay, what if it does?”

I turned around.

Drove right back and got out of the jeep as Jacqueline and her friend were walking out of Powell’s. I caught her on the steps out front.

“Ms. Carey. I just wanted to come back and say I’m sorry for being so dishonest. I have met you before. 4 years ago at the Writer’s conference in Seattle. I thought about telling you but it just seemed stupid but then I saw a sign that said ‘trust your gut’ and so I came back to say, I didn’t mean to sound so insincere.”

“Seattle? Wasn’t there a lot of alcohol at that conference?” She asked with a smile.

I nodded.

“I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you,” she said.

“You never need to apologize for something like that. Plus there was a lot going on that weekend and there were a lot of drunken story telling nights with erotic content that I’m just fine with no one remembering.”

She tilted her head, “Did it involve ginger?”

DOH!

“Yes.” I said and shuffled as much from embarrassment as pleasure. “Yes it did.”

Great job, Athena. Way to make an impression with your idol by telling story about sticking ginger up your butt. That’s just fabulous.

I smiled and stuck my hand out. She got me, there was nowhere to go from there. “Well, I just wanted to tell you I’m really proud for you and all your work.  Congratulations.”

She took my hand to shake but pulled me into a hug. “Thank you. I’m glad you trusted your gut and came back.”

I pulled away and felt awkward and relieved at the same time.

I drove home blasting music and laugh crying. I have changed so much in four years. It’s amazing! Unbelievable.  It was like meeting a marker from a different lifetime and remembering that fundamentally, I have not strayed from my path as far as I thought.  I finally got published and have a book on shelves. I traveled and gained my independence. Years ago, I never actually believed I would be able to – back when I met her the first time those dreams seemed wholly unattainable. Then as I drove away, I knew – having met the one person who could potentially turn me into a babbling idiot – there is no place to go from this point forward but up. I’ve survived Star Shock.

Because honestly, is there anything more humbling to know than the impression you made on your own idol – it the knowledge that four years later they remember you simply because you tortured your own anus with raw ginger? Brilliant, Athena. I don’t think it gets better than that.