I shrugged. “On paper, sure, but I’m worried about having booked four hours’ worth of pitch appointments. I’ve never listened to a pitch in my life. I’m going to be more nervous than the writers.”
“I seriously doubt that, my friend. Most of those poor souls will be shaking so hard you’ll think they had one of my triple espressos.” She came over to my table and mimed pulling on a baseball mitt and adopting a pitcher’s stance. “Do you want me to toss a pitch at you? I’ve got a wicked fastball.”
It was hard to take my friend seriously as she raised her left leg, pivoted her body, and pretended to throw a speedball at my coffee cup.
“You’re too confident,” I scolded her. “You’re supposed to be more jittery. You’re a writer who’d do anything to impress me and you know that I’m going to be listening to dozens of people before and after you. Your idea has to be dazzling and well presented or you’ll have blown your chance. See? Give me jittery.”
“Okay.” Makayla sat down opposite me and laced her hands together. She glanced anxiously around the café and then drew in a deep breath. “My book is a paranormal romance set in a coffee shop. Mena Lewis is a shy, hardworking barista by day and a dangerous, untamed shape-shifter by night. She keeps to herself because she doesn’t want to hurt anyone. One day, she’s attacked in the forest surrounding her town by a strange, nightmarish creature and is rescued by a handsome but secretive park ranger. He heals her and, during a full moon, witnesses her change into a snarling cougar. He seems amazingly unfazed by her transformation, and Mena wonders if she might have finally made a human connection. But as she gives her heart to him, Mena doesn’t know if the hot ranger is a hero or a shifter even more dangerous than herself. The end!”
I sat back, impressed. “You came up with that out of the blue?”
Makayla shrugged. “I could tell you dozens of ideas. They’re swimming around in my head like a school of fish, but that’s all they’ll ever be. Ideas. I can’t turn them into a book. I just don’t have it in me.”
“Too bad,” I said.
“Listen, Lila. You’re going to be hearing from folks who’ve poured a piece of themselves into page after loving page.” She gestured at her little library in the corner. “I don’t know how anyone does it. To have that kind of devotion, to sit there day after day and lasso the things churning around in your mind into organized thoughts. Can you imagine how those people feel when they finish that last sentence? And so many of them won’t ever see their books for sale in a store.”
“That’s what makes these pitch sessions so tough,” I said. “I know that these writers have devoted a huge part of themselves to their projects and yet I’ll have to turn down dozens of them.”
“You’ll find the right words when the time comes. I just know you will.” Suddenly, she grabbed my arm and beamed. “I forgot to thank you for making sure I was picked to handle the beverage service for the festival. My piggy bank is about to get a whole lot fatter.”
I squeezed her shoulder. “I simply put your name in the suggestion box, so to speak. Anyway, I can’t survive this weekend without you and your lattes.”
“There’ll be good food, too. Big Ed is going to set up a Catcher in the Rye kiosk, and the Sixpence Bakery booth will be there to handle all the sugar cravings.” Makayla lowered her voice to a whisper. “I snuck over to the bakery before I opened to get myself one of Nell’s cherry cheese Danishes. Lord have mercy, but that is no ordinary pastry. It’s a tiny glimpse of heaven, I swear.”
“I’ll pick some up tomorrow to celebrate Vicky’s first day on the job. But for now, I’ve got to tackle the six proposals stacked on my desk. See you later.”
Wishing me luck, Makayla returned to her position behind the counter and began taking orders from the group of college-aged students who’d entered Espresso Yourself in a wave of laughter, raised voices, and tinny music emitting from the earbuds of more than one iPod. They were all dressed in collegiate sweatshirts, jeans, and boat shoes.
I’d noticed an unusual number of college students hanging around Inspiration Valley over the last few months. It hadn’t seemed odd for so many of the older teens to be present in the summer, because many of them held food service jobs and worked as camp counselors, but today was a weekday at the end of October. Why weren’t these kids in class?