My creative non-fiction story 'Because She Believed In Me' was published in the Island Writer Magazine: The literary journal of Vancouver Island and the Gulf Islands in Winter 2009.
Magazine Launch
It was an ordinary day. Then I
turned on my computer. Then I read an email from the Victoria Writers Society. My
short story will be published in the Island Writer, I thought and my head
exploded. Along with the acceptance letter was an invitation to the magazine
launch. Would I attend? I didn’t have to think about that question for long. Of
course I would.
“My
story’s been accepted,” I told my husband. “And we’re going to the magazine
launch.”
“Have
you checked the ferry schedule?”
I
hadn't. I just thought things would work out.
He
followed the maze of numbers. “The last ferry leaves Vancouver Island for Mayne
Island at 8:30 p.m.”
I
glanced at the invitation. “The event starts at 8:00 p.m.” What did that
mean? Did that mean—No, we have to. “Maybe the launch won’t
take that long?”
“Come
on, Leanne. Think. We can’t even drive from the ferry to Victoria and back in
half an hour.”
“But
I have to go. I have to. It’s my story… I’ve been chosen.”
He
heaved a heavy sigh. “We’ll find accommodations.”
I
wrapped my arms around my hero. I knew Byron would have a solution. He’s so
smart. What will I wear? I had an outfit to plan, a reading to practice and
mere weeks to get it all done. I have to start today.
“You’ll
have to find us a place to stay,” Byron said.
Me?
But I have so much to do… Still by the way he was looking at me I knew booking accommodations had just become my responsibility. I studied the invitation.
“Out of city guests may enjoy staying at the Rosewood Inn.” Inn? Sounds
expensive. “You’ll have to check—”
“No,
you’ll have to,” he told me. “This is your thing. I’m going with you.”
Oh,
Byron, you always make things much harder than they have to be.
Weeks
passed; the day arrived. Byron and I sailed from Mayne Island headed for
Vancouver Island. I flipped open my paperback; starred out to sea; read a few
paragraphs; stared out to sea; read a sentence; stared out to sea.
“Byron?”
“Yes?”
He looked up from his book.
“What
time is it?”
“Five
minutes after the last time you asked.”
Byron
drove the truck out of the ferry terminal. “How do we get to the Rosewood Inn?”
Honestly,
do I have to everything? I opened the file folder that held my author
reading, the reservations for our accommodations and… “I printed off a map.”
“You
did?” He sounded surprised.
I
read the street names; Byron followed my directions and I got us all the way
there.
My husband snapped this photo of me while we were at the Church fair this past weekend.
I may look a little lost but there are books in my arms so you know I'm happy. : )
