Chapter 3- Inspired Writer
Writers and authors have the talent to originate or give existence to anything no matter how insignificant it may seem in the first place. They’re able to create something that interest them and explain it or give it a deeper meaning. What inspired the writer in the first place or how the idea came to them can come in many shapes or forms. Some of the best authors thought of their ideas from a simple walk in the park during the early cool spring morning or a dream. Some kind of life changing experience or everyday chores have been known to be the stepping stone in creating a master piece. For me it’s the people around me or objects that seem so simple and one sided that inspire me. I observe the many things people take for granted or don’t give a second thought like family or that small tree in the backyard that doesn’t seem to grow. Everything has a history, a purpose as to why things are the way they are and how they came to be or what is holding them back. When I was younger I never really put much that into it but the loss of my parents changed the way I view life and how I want to communicate with people.
There is always something that inspires us something that changes our lives and a writer response to that call or event through words and trying to help others to see a deeper meaning.
Peddling home was much a challenge as it was for Sara has going to school. Having to keep the handlebars at a 25degree angle the whole time just so she would go straight. Leaving the school grounds she started to bike across the street when it was clear. The sound of screeching tires came out of nowhere caught her attention and when she looked to the left she saw an old gray car that was hardly in one-piece stop just inches from her feet. With a look of horror in her eyes she turned to see who it was and almost immediately she heard the laughter she never wanted to hear again and as she looked at the occupants in the car she felt her blood boil while staring at Michael Scofield and his friends in the car laughing.
Letting out a grunt Sara hit the hood of the car, “Watch it!” she yelled.
“Hey don’t touch my car or you’ll pay for the damages,” Michael yelled at her out the driver side window as he hand pushed his long messy hair out of his eyes.
Sara let a sarcastic laugh and rolled her eyes, “I’ll give you $20 for the whole car, its a piece of junk! Oh and while I do that lets get your hair cut so you can see something other then that greasy mop on your head you call hair!”
Gritting his teeth Michael sat back in his seat and let his engine roar to inform Sara to move or he would run her over. The two glared at each other from a moment and then getting back on her bike Sara finished crossing the street and over to her favorite old used bookstore while she heard the loud sound of Michael’s car speeding off.
Parking the bike just in front of the bookstore so it was leaning against the old gray brick building, she didn’t really see the point of locking it up because what idiot would steel a bike that didn’t ride right. Even if it did somehow went missing while she was inside it wasn’t like she would care considering it was a piece of junk to begin with.
Reaching for the glass door she pulled it open and the door chime went off to inform the owner someone was entering the store. It was a small bookstore that was dimly lit and had the smell of old books as soon as you stepped into the room. For a very small bookstore is had hundreds of old book, their were many narrow dark wood bookshelves that had as many books as possible squeezed into them and then more piled up on top and up to the ceiling as well as piles on the floor. There wasn’t much room to move around luckily Sara seem to be the only customer who came at this time during the day.
Quickly glancing at the books she looked to see if there was anything new she hadn’t read yet. When she got to the center of the bookstore there was a dark wooden check out desk but the owner wasn’t behind it. Assuming she was in the back room Sara pulled off her backpack and set it down on the burgundy armchair to her right before strolling down an isle to look at the books.
Running her fingers over the spine of the books she looked at all the books she had read more then once. Stopping on one in particular book she had read probably a thousand times by now she pulled it off the shelf and started to turn the dull yellow colored pages and gazed over the words inked on the pages. While reading it she could hear some noise coming from the backroom and then when heard the squeaky backroom door opening she leaned back on her heels and smiled when she caught a glimpse of Susan Hollander the bookstore owner.
“Oh Sara dear, I was wondering when I would see you today” she said with a cheerful smile as she walked over to greet her favorite customer. “How are you?”
“I’m okay,” Sara answered a little wary due to what she had experience at school earlier that day.
“So what book had you chosen today?” she asked moving to check out Sara’s book and couldn’t help but laugh when she caught sight of the cover “To Kill a Mockingbird”. “Sara exactly how many times have you read that book?”
“I lost count” she blushed. “Oh I um brought some of my old books to see if you’re interested in reselling them.” Remembering the books she had packed in her bag this morning she walked over to the armchair where her bag was sitting and unzipped it and took out her books. “Here, I’m not sure how many copies you have but…”
She held them out for Susan and she gladly accepted the collection of books and made her way to the other side of the desk and started to type something into the computer. “So did you get any new books dropped off this week?”
“Oh we got a few, um check the front window, an older gentleman brought is some of his old books” Susan told her and with a smile and a nod Sara skipped over to the front window and scoped out the collection looking for something she hadn’t read yet.
“Have you read Bronze Horseman?” she called back to Susan.
“No not yet, but I have heard it’s tale of passion, betrayal, and survival in World War II Russia. Very memorable, which is also what I would like to say about your latest story you wrote.”
“It’s nothing,” Sara said.
“Sara your work is amazing you should really think about getting it published” Susan said with a serious tone.
“Susan you’re the only one who reads that stuff and it’s only because you ask me for them and won’t stop until I give it to you” Sara said with a chuckle.
“Well you may not believe in yourself but I do” she told Sara. “I look forward to your next story.” Sara felt herself blush even more and started to fidget in her spot letting her hair fall in front of her face trying to hide her embarrassment. There was an awkward silence and the only the tapping of Sara’s fingers nails on the wooden desk echoed in the bookstore. “I mean they way you explain things in such deep detail it’s like the readers there or is the character. Your very talented Sara, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
Biting her bottom lip nervously and bouncing up and down on her heels Sara lifted her head and fixed her glasses that were sliding down her nose. “Do you… I mean am I… I don’t know” Sara rambled in a troublesome voice.
“Are you what?”
Looking anywhere but Susan Sara pushed her body away from the desk and moved near a bookshelf admiring the book while still in perfect view of Susan as she contemplated her next words very carefully while thinking back to what some of the kids had said about her stuff. Tapping her fingers on the spine of the book she remained quiet and Susan just stood at the desk waiting for Sara to express herself.
Watching the troubling hurting girl in front of her Susan wanted nothing more then to comfort her. She had known Sara since she first moved to Chicago when she was nine. In the beginning Sara would always wonder over on weekends looking at the books in such amazement. It became a recurring thing and eventually Sara started to open up to Susan a little more and more. She would talk about her parents and about her life in Phoenix and Susan believe that allowing her to do that was important since her aunt and uncle never seem to have time for her. It broke Susan’s heart to see such a young child go through so much at such a young age. Yet she was always please when she would get the odd smile or laugh out Sara either from a happy childhood memory with her parents or over a discussion of a book. She felt very protective of Sara as if she were her own daughter because with everything she had been through she needed someone and her family only seemed to be letting her live with them because they were her legal guardians but never show the poor girl any love which is something a child needs especially when she loses both her parents tragically.
Sara voice brought Susan back to the present and tried to focus on what was bothering her. Sara was pacing back and forth down the isle a couple times but when she came to a stop she looked up at Susan with a troubling face expression. “Am I angry and dark?”
This statement caught Susan off guard and immediately started shaking her head, “No dear, what make you think that?”
“My stories and poem they aren’t happy, none of them really if you think about it. Do you think I could be angry, sad and depressed without really realizing it?
“Where is this coming from?”
With a sigh Sara moved to the armchair and as she set her bag on the floor she collapsed in the chair looking so small and lost to Susan. “Someone said I had a lot of anger in me and that I that I must be sad and depressed because of the things I write about. I never put much thought into it but none of my writing is happy. What does that say about me?”
Setting the books down on the desk Susan walked around the desk and towards Sara. She knelt down in front of her and grasps hold of Sara’s hand to let her know she wasn’t alone, that someone cared about her and everything would be all right. “Authors right when they feel inspired by something so simple it catches their attention and before you know it, it has a different meaning and the story begins. Your stories aren’t depressing, they’re deep; they touch a person and help them relate. There aren’t many people who can do that Sara, but you can,” she said in a quietly and comforting but also firm hoping to get Sara to believe her. Sitting in the armchair Sara was staring right at Susan and felt a smile slowly creep across her face. “There you go” Susan whispered with a smile after seeing the smile.
“Thanks Susan” Sara said wholeheartedly as she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Susan.
“Anytime sweetie, now what books are you interested in today?” Susan asked as she stood up from her spot on the floor and strolled over to the other side of the desk to ring through Sara’s purchases.
“Okay I’ll take Bronze Horseman and To Kill a Mockingbird today” Sara answered getting up from her seat. Picking up her backpack she walked over to the desk and placed her books in her bag and then zipped it up. “Thanks again” Sara said making her way to the door.
“See you later Sara”
Pushing open the front doors of the store she heard the bell go off again and as she returned to the bike that still stood leaning against the wall she waved to Susan one last time through the big window before hopping on the deformed bike and heading home or the place she had not choice but to call home.
Chapter End Notes:
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