KIWI CAN BE REALLY SOUR

One guy on LinkedIn claims that having your books in the bookstores is obsolete and the only right way to have your book published is self-publishing through Amazon. The price for helping you do that and guiding you through the process – pure „Dollar Store“ ticket, $1,200. Too pricey for me, sorry.

However, nothing had prepared me for the whole mix of emotions when I saw my book in the bookstore window! And not just any bookstore but Strand! Yes, it was nested among promo T-shirts and other books but thanks to its vibrant colors on the cover, it stood out like a rare (multicolored) diamond.

It was a long way to the bookstore and yes, being a self-published author was probably much easier and brought more money but I had always dreamt of seeing MY book in the bookstore. Yes , I did use an alias but who could have blamed me? The book was a series of short segments of my great love for a certain guy with very specific details regarding the meddling of the third and fourth party that I felt the need to cover my tracks. So when I was informed it was accepted and picked up to be published by a small independent publishing house, I was pleasantly surprised but calm. So much time had passed between sending out the manuscript to so many publishing houses! When that faithful email landed in my inbox, there was no elation, just "a nice feeling".

„Nice!“ was the first thing I thought before going back to playing Crossclimb on LinkedIn.

A couple of days later there was a call from my agent, Alison. AN AGENT! – I felt like yelling but I was still keeping my cool.

So this Alison person WAS cool and hip and we met in a small coffee shop in my neighbourhood and we clicked immediately. After our short exchange of the levels of infatuation with Damiano David and his solo album, and how „Stranger Things“ was the greatest show ever, she focused on technical things.

She explained that "yes, they were small, but still collaborated with some popular bookstores, not the obscure ones in the dark alleys but sometimes their published authors got to be in the big popular ones". However, she could not promise anything yet. Yes, my share from the book would be peanuts, but it was a start since for me, a published author had always been someone who had a publishing house behind them. Yes, she was the one who picked up the book because it was refreshingly honest and "normal" (whatever that meant) without being vulgar or filled with „twisted naked people“ since dark erotica was so popular that people kept forgetting about real emotions. We chatted, made agendas, then came various meetings with the heads of the publishing house, their legal team, and so on and now I was looking at my book in Strand.

What a surreal feeling! I was ecstatic, then thrown into disbelief, then over the moon, then took a photo of it, posted it online and tagged #Strand#, then took a selfie, posted it online and promptly deleted it since I was afraid people would know it was me and my DMs would be flooded with all kinds of comments.

I enjoyed my moment of solitary glory a bit more and went to work.

Months had passed.

„We would love you to do the reading! The Psychology of Relationships students loved the book! Moreover, they even did some segments during their Attachment Theory classes!” Alison sounded overjoyed over the phone. Public reading meant exposing myself and I really wanted to avoid that. My picture on the back cover was the play of light and darkness, so my face was far from recognizable, only shadows interspersed with broken rays of light.

“Look, you have until Monday to decide! But this kind of opportunity could bring you more reach! And no worries, I would be your host", Alison said.

OK, what was it that I had learned during my NLP training? Fluid mindset. Change your limiting beliefs with ease. Readjust your frequency to new conditions and challenges. Failure is just a piece of information that helps you become better and more confident. There is no real life without taking risks. Right? Right! Let's take another!

The day came. I opted for a billowy dress aiming for a soft, airy, and dramatic, cloud-like silhouette, loose hair and a bit of make-up. When I stepped into the reading space, I felt overwhelmed. There was a whopping applause and I slid into my public persona, a bright-eyed, dazzling figure, who throws jokes around and builds a great rapport with the audience.

I explained the context of the segments that my audience had found thrilling, “honest and raw”.

My relationship with Sam was complex. We met during our year in the USA while both doing our MA theses in American History. On our first day, we both felt a huge pull towards each other, so visceral it was hard to breathe. On our third day, he wanted me to move in together. On our fourth day, I decided to stop supressing my feelings and plunge into the deep waters with him and then sink or swim. The mutual pull was too strong. I basically felt him.

“I don’t know what to do with a woman like you”, he admitted. “I am used to mind games, manipulation, strategies, I simply have no idea how to be around you”. At least he was honest. The reading went on.

“Why do I have to pay the price for that anorexic bitch that pushed him around for ten years and rejected him when he proposed? Not fair. I’ve had my share of bad relationships but I have never transferred the burden from one into the other. I always dealt with it right after its end. I would start each one with fresh eyes, pure heart and high hopes”, I read in a steady voice.

Then came the part when he decided to “do some traveling on my own” and started pulling away. That meant we weren't going back to New Zealand together. I was devastated but had to focus on going home, changing my ticket and surviving over 24 hours of flying and layovers.

“Sam,

Before I leave the hotel (and lose WIFI), I want to tell you this: you obviously have uncertainties, insecurities and doubts - I have them too.

However, if you happen to experience (another) bout of being indecisive (you said there was a pattern you had noticed in your behavior), please consult me, I'll give you a direct and honest response.

I don't want us to end up hurting each other unnecessarily.

Please let’s not do that. If you decide to end this, please do it the way it should be done so that we still remain in each other’s mind as a beautiful memory”, I went on. There was a sigh in the audience.

“Hi Bells,

I'm (probably like yourself) decisive in many - but not all - ways. I did enjoy getting to know you better and working on our communication, though...

I'll be on the road the next few days as I head to Georgia and back to NZ.

Enjoy (perhaps) getting back into your routine! Question: Did you submit the documents to the Consulate? I would love to have you here and share at least a part of my life with you…”

“What a well-planned and well-written email beginning, 👏👏👏! 10 points for Gryffindor!”, I joked.

The audience chuckled.

“I agree that hurt is undesirable but I am also realistic about distances and different lives. At the very least, continuing to work on our communications cannot hurt - in fact our communication improved drastically over these last 5 weeks! Otherwise, know I always have space at my place!”

There was more about our views on politics and relationships and my gift to him. He loved collecting WW2 memorabilia and I sent him the one I had got from a U.S. army officer. Sam was speechless, or so he said.

I went on cheerily, segment after segment, until I came to the part when I wanted to book him a massage in his neighbourhood. I was shocked when I realized I didn't have his phone number and could not make a booking.

I made a joke about the next segment: ”And now, this is how you deal with people who claim to be off the grid and you find out they have created a Skype account, previously non-existent!”

“Whoaaa! It's official: I am on a 'weekly update diet' of Sam Morisson and it's showing! That's called 'working on your communication', people, so stop holding your breath! Which means if I'm lucky I'll get to yell in person “Give me a number, please, it's kind of important and I've already said too much.”

I was all playful intonation until the next segment. It was about his 40th birthday.

“Happy birthday, Sam 🎂🎉!

Though it's said to be a huge milestone, 40 is not such a big deal, sometimes life takes off right after it.

This interesting number usually brings:

* Less bullshit - more authentic genuine you.

* Less fear at revealing your hopes and dreams, failures and fears. That's what we are made of, after all.

* Less focus on how people see you, more on how you see yourself.

* Lower your fences - you might miss on someone/something extraordinary and/or make them/it distance themselves.

* Be more open, raw and vulnerable - may hurt more, but will be worthwhile in the long run.

Love, Bells”

I continued with a heavy heart, knowing what was to come.

“I waited and waited for a reply but nothing. Then I decided to do something about it. I sent another email." I cleared my throat.

"18,573.28 km is the exact physical distance (calculated when I was planning the NZ trip) between our towns which is nothing compared to the distance you have decided to create between us.

There was really, really no need for ghosting. I could assume what may have happened but assumptions are usually based on/lead to fear and confusion and I don't like treading murky waters. Whatever the reason, you should have told me. I might have not liked it, I might have not even understood it but I would have had to accept it - can't do much from here really, given that I was not given the fair advantage of Skype either, just emails, and that you were the one who made decisions. Let's hope you've made the right one.

Take care, Sam.”

The audience was silent. I raised my head and said smiling: “And now, the treat!”

His reply. The one after which I promptly got sick, 39℃, and had some sort of flue for three weeks. I felt that my heart would give up beating at any given moment.

“Yeah, I guess my emails have become more infrequent, just getting on here, really.

Have you ever read Kurt Vonnegut's 'Slaughterhouse Five' on the bombing of Dresden in WWII? If not, have a look. It's an odd book, in many ways, but I've always liked the way that the Tralfamadorians look at life (indeed, it tends to be the way that I've come to look at life as well).

In a nutshell, it's that every moment that is created continues to exist somewhere in time. And because it exists, it can be accessed and re-lived at any other point. The Tralfamadorians think, therefore, that, as there are inevitably both good and bad times, you should choose to spend your time, when you can, focusing on the good stuff.

I, like you, have travelled widely and experienced many things, and while I'm in good moments I 'snapshot' these to return to. Walking over the cobblestones in the dusk at Red Square in Moscow, standing on top of Table Mountain in South Africa with the sun and sweat on my brow, spending a carefree afternoon lolling about the American WWII water memorial in the heart of DC 'shooting the breeze' with a beautiful lady who had opened her heart to me and was all love and light (I told I had no idea what to do with you). These are all times that have become part of this (my) evolving 'history' of moments that I regularly choose to return to, to escape the otherwise mundane reality of everyday life. Of course, it's not enough to keep returning to these pleasant settings, the challenge is to keep creating new moments while you still can. Altogether, these moments and experiences have made - and continue to make - my life rich and rewarding.

You will always be a part of this now. Moreover, I will always be a part of your own evolving history of moments (and hopefully some good ones too). You can choose to return to these moments, as I do, whenever you feel. Ha! Who knew that you'd meet a Kiwi guy with a funny accent in the USA and spend an afternoon taking a fast-ferry from Boston to Salem and back? A great day. Just as for me meeting a European woman who, among other things, gifted me her nation's flag (which only a couple of months before during the D-Day commemorations I had confused with the Czech flag in front of a class here!) You can also, of course, choose to do the complete opposite, as I do with other moments, and never revisit them. Not ever.

Bells, you deserve a proper farewell and so I wish you all the very best for the rest of your life's journey; and while we must always look to the future, there's nothing wrong with looking back on those good times as well.”

The audience was silent as a tomb.

“It hit me it was over. Yet, I got a call from the Post Office that I had a valuable package from New Zealand that I should come and pick up myself. I expected pebbles from the beach near his house. Instead, there was a huge Moschino bag, limited edition, and a necklace from their famous designer Ray Fransham. As I was unwrapping the items, I knew it was over. Those were parting gifts. My final document from him would never arrive. My application to the Consulate would be rejected as “Incomplete”. I had already bought him a Pearl Harbour medal, went to great lengths to get it but now, I was not so sure if I should send it. So I kept it. It's in my jewellery box."

I raised my eyes and looked at the audience. They were silent and some were on the verge of tears.

“Now we have time for some questions”, Alison said.

One by one, they asked me about the relationship and how I felt revisiting that experience. The chat turned from tense and teary to pleasant because I threw in a lot of jokes to make the atmosphere lighter. The tension left the room and just when Alison announced I would be signing the books, a deep resonant voice from behind asked: “Do you regret any moment spent with that Sam guy?”

I couldn’t see the person but still replied:

”Not for a second but I would do things differently now. I think I would focus on some better-looking guys and have a lot of sex to remember them by! After all, that's also a school for life and of life!”

The audience laughed.

As the last people approached the desk to have their books signed, sharing how emotional they got during the reading, the last one handed over his book in silence. I looked up and of course it was him. He looked older and kind of sad. I felt just a twinge of pain and a bit of empathy and then it was gone.

I opened it and wrote down: “When life gives you Kiwis, choose lemons! Always! Sincerely, Isabella”.

“Thank you for coming, I hope you had an enjoyable evening!”, I said with a wide smile.

I stood up, closed the book and handed it to him.

Then I left with Alison. No regrets.