He shook my hand I stuttered, glancing down at the book in my hand.
“Could you sign my book?”
He takes a step back and reaches into the pocket of his burgandy robe that looks so soft you just want to touch it- like that white furry cat your grandmother owned that always swatted at you when you invaded its bubble. He pulls out a pen and takes my book. Carefully, he flips to the title page and pens my name at the top and signs his on the bottom.
Meeting my favorite author brought out the giddy schoolgirl in me. From the moment he walked by us as we stood in line waiting to check in until when he pulled me into an oddly comfortable hug for our picture, I was equal amounts of anxious and excited. So much at one at one point I could have probably exploded into rainbows and sunshine.
I have never gone to an author event but I feel l Iike if I am ever to go to one for another author, I will find myself disappointed. Chuck Palahniuk definitely set a high standard. I knew it would be a fun night when he and his assistant began chucking bags of candy at people and when someone got pegged with one, he quickly commented, “Those bags of candy corn hurt like a motherfucker.”
From beginning to end, I was sucked in. The stories he read and shared had the wit and disturbingly fascinating details I have always admired in his writing. He made it a fun time for everyone and handed out some pretty badass prizes. I got an arm- five lucky people got this beautifully bound copy of Fight Club.
I look forward to going to as many of his events in the future that I can. I’m glad I can finally say I met my favorite author and one of the people responsible for my love of writing to grow to new and different levels.