The Book Signing

This was the greatest day in Lydia Starling’s life.

As she sat at a table in a corner of the local Barnes & Noble, with a stack of her book “The Seaweed Diet” in front of her, she couldn’t contain her happiness. She was a newly published author holding her first book signing.

For weeks she had practiced signing her name. First she would just write “Lydia Starling.” Then she expanded it to “Warmest Regards, Lydia Starling.” Then she adapted it to “All my best, Lydia Starling.”

From there it was “To my biggest fan, Lydia Starling.” “Best of luck in all your endeavors, Lydia Starling.” “Thank you for allowing me to share my story with you, Lydia Starling.”

In giddy moments she would write “May the force be with you, Lydia Starling.” In serious moments she would write “May you avoid the pitfalls, failings and tragedies that come with life itself, Lydia Starling.” In her contemplative moments she would write “Why are any of us here? Lydia Starling.”

Eventually she settled on “To (insert name), Best Wishes, Lydia Starling.”

Nobody said this was going to be easy.

In the line waiting for her autograph, Ed Callahan, a heavyset man in his 50s wearing blue jeans, a flannel shirt and a baseball cap, turned to talk to the slightly built, grey-haired, older gentleman standing behind him.

“I bought this book so I figured I might as well have it autographed,” Ed said. “Who knows, maybe it will be worth some money someday.”

He looked at the title. “The Seaweed Diet? What the heck is that about?”

“If you don’t know what the book is about why did you buy it?” the older man asked.

“Well, I’m not much of a reader. Actually, I haven’t read a book since high school. Moby Dick. It’s about a whale.”

“I know what it’s about. Why haven’t you read a book since high school?”

“I was always pretty busy. Then in the 80s we got cable TV and with all those stations who had time to read? My wife has been after me to read something, I mean, don’t magazines count? So I came to the store and saw this book had only 120 pages so I thought it’d be a good one to start with.”

The man just stared at Ed. “What’s your name,” Ed asked him.

“Herb Muhlman, and I circled this day on my calendar. I’ve been a Linda Stirling fan for a long, long time.”

Linda Stirling

“Linda Stirling? You mean Linda Stirling the actress?”

“She’s my favorite actress of all time. I’ve loved her since I was a little boy. I had a Linda Stirling pin-up picture in my bedroom. I joined the Linda Stirling Fan Club. I probably wrote her a hundred letters. She never wrote back, though.”

“Herb, I hate to tell you this,” Ed said softly.  Linda Stirling is dead”.

“What?”

“She’s dead. She died about 20 years ago.”

Herb thrust both his hands against Ed’s chest in an attempt to push him away. The bigger man moved only slightly.

“What the hell’s the matter with you? Linda Stirling’s not dead. She’s sitting right up there, and I’m going to get her autograph. I’m going to take this book, what’s it called? “The Seaweed Diet?' Who the hell eats seaweed anyway? I’m going to have Linda sign it. She’s going to sign it ‘To My Biggest Fan, Herb Muhlman.’ That’s what she’s going to do.”

Ed turned around and realized it was his turn to get an autograph.

“Hello,” Lydia said. “Would you like me to sign your book?”

She reached for the book but Ed didn’t give it to her.

“Actually, I was wondering if you maybe had a book that didn’t have so many pages.”

“Less pages?”

“I mean, I’m sure it’s a nice book and all. And I figured that 120 pages wouldn’t be too bad. But then I started thumbing through it and there’s all this stuff about seaweed and it seems kind of boring.”

Lydia’s face showed a slightly annoyed look. “It’s the only book I have. I don’t have any other books for you.”

“I guess I can get my money back,” Ed said. “I can get my money back, can’t I?”

Lydia sighed. “Yes, I’m sure you can get your money back.”

Suddenly, Herb pushed his way past Ed.

“Get out of the way, will you. I don’t have all day.”

“Hello. Would you like me to sign your book,” Lydia asked.

“Oh yes Ms. Stirling,” Herb gushed. “That would be great.”

“Ms. Stirling?”

“You’re my favorite actress of all time. I just loved you in 'The Tiger Woman'.”

“I’m afraid there’s been some mistake. I’m not Linda Stirling.”

Herb looked puzzled. “You’re not.”

“No, I’m Lydia Starling.”

“Who?”

“Lydia Starling.”

Herb’s wrinkled face reddened. “Who the hell are you? I came here to see Linda Stirling.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Well, I’m sure as hell not going to pay for this book now. What a rip off.”

He started to storm away, but after a few steps turned around and came back to the table.

“You know, I’ve seen every episode of The Purple Monster Strikes – seven times. I’ve waiting my whole life to meet Linda Stirling. And I come out here and it’s just you.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Herb turned and stomped away. This gave Ed a second chance to approach the table.

“Excuse me,” he said politely.

“Yes?” Lydia replied.

“I was just looking at your book. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m sure it’s a good book, but I noticed you have this page in the front where you list all the chapters, and then in the back there’re three pages of things with page numbers next to them.

“That’s the table of contents and the index.”

“I was just thinking. Why do you need them anyway? If you take them out you’d make the book shorter and easier to read.”

“They’re the table of contents and the index. You don’t take out the table of contents and the index.

“Why?”

“Why? Because you just don’t. You need them. They’re part of the book.”

“It just seems like a waste to me.”

Lydia slapped her right hand on the table. Her voice got louder. ”What’s the matter with you? Are you an idiot?”

Before a flustered Ed could answer Herb pushed his way past him again.

“And I’ll tell you another thing Miss Whoever-You-Are, when I was boy I almost hitchhiked my way to Hollywood to meet Linda Stirling.”

“What do you mean you almost hitchhiked your way to Hollywood?”

“I made it down to the end of our driveway. Remember this was a pretty long driveway. And I got to the road, and I was ready to hitchhike, and I realized I didn’t know which damn way it was to Hollywood. This way, that way, which way was I going to point my thumb? I was completely disoriented.”

“What happened then?”

“I went back inside. It was time for dinner anyway.”

The store manager, a tall middle-aged balding man, approached Lydia.

“I’m sorry, your time’s up,” he said. “We had you scheduled from noon to 2 p.m. We have another author coming in at 2:15 and we need the table.”

Lydia shrugged her shoulders and put her books and pens into a cardboard box. A woman in her mid-30s carrying a box of books approached the table.

“Hi,” Lydia said. “You must be next.”

“Yes, I’m Lucinda Sinclair, so nice to meet you.”

“Lucinda Sinclair?”

“Yes, I’m here to sign copies of my latest book, ‘Living Vertically in a Horizontal World.’”

Lydia nodded, picked up her box and headed toward the door. As she walked past the line forming for Lucinda’s autograph she spotted Herb.

“Excuse me,” he said pleasantly. “Is this the line to get Linda Sitrling’s autograph? She’s my favorite actress of all time.”

Lydia smiled. “You’re right where you ought to be.”

With that she headed out of the store. After a tiring day she decided to stop and rent a movie for the evening: “Sante Fe Saddlemates,” staring Linda Stirling.