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Class Reunions: How do you feel?

Last month, I received a letter from a high school classmate. It was titled, 'The Class of '72 is Turning 70'. I wasn't sure if I wanted to go. I wasn't popular in high school. I always thought of myself as an outsider. When they inducted me into National Honor Society, I couldn't even join properly They said to raise your right hand and repeat the pledge, I raised my left hand. (I still do this, but I tell everyone it is because I am so intelligent that I think with both sides of my brain and it gets confused.) I looked in the mirror, and I saw an old woman. My hair was white, (not grey, but white). I had put on a few more than a few pounds; I had developed small jowls, and I was doubting if anyone would remember me. My husband and I were fashionably late, which meant we were the last ones to arrive. As I walked across the parking lot, I recognized no one. If it hadn't been for the large sign that announced where to park and where the picnic was being held, I would have thought I arrived at the wrong place. A woman approached me and forcefully slapped a patch on my blouse that depicted me, but from over fifty years ago. I laughed when she said she recognized me immediately. From there, things got better. My cousin, who had been in Vietnam and a nurse for almost fifty years, stood with several of the guys we had gone to school with. I nudged him and told him I was glad he was there, which was met with questions about how he knew me. He explained I was his cousin who always did his typing because he still didn't know how. I then had several people walk up to me and hide their name tags so i couldn't cheat and had to remember who they were. I remembered the one man, but shocked to know he knew who I was. I remember seeing him at my place of business over the years and I told him, which had him confused. "Why didn't he know? Why didn't I say something?" I told him I was working in the back room and unable to get away. .Even though some of that was the truth; I had a crush on him in school. He was the basketball star, young, handsome, and he was out of my league. I spent the next three hours talking to people and having an amazing time. Then Lucy, the woman who assaulted me with the name tag, handed out M&M's. She expressed they should not be eaten. Not many people knew it, but I spent several years working two to three job and taking care of my children in the best way I knew how. I had an alcoholic ex-husband who expressed his love through regular abuse and hated our daughters. Our sons were his only concern, and he made it clear. When I finally moved out, I spent all my time working and trying to make up to them what they missed when we lived with their father. I lived on chicken and M&M's when the kids weren't with me, which wasn't very often, but I still ate chicken and M&M's because they were cheap. When I was told not to eat the M&M's, my inner child rebelled, but I complied. When I heard the reasoning, I shoved more than half the M&M's into my husband's mouth and smiled. We were to tell one fact about ourself for every M&M we had in our hand. John had seven in his mouth and I was left with two. I hated talking about myself, and I quietly voiced that to Lucy. Instead of standing and telling everyone about my abusive marriage. How I worked my way up from being a cleaner at McDonald's to running the store. How I worked for a large union. How I drove school bus in the morning, McDonalds through the day and drove school bus in the afternoon and did my union work on the weekends, Lucy took over. She told them I was an author of children's books and I was doing well. I silently thanked her. I would have loved to have told everyone this, but I would not make myself sound like a walking billboard and I was the sole recipient of the advertisement. We had people there who were much more important than I was. Although I wasn't sure if I wanted to go to this picnic, I was thrilled that I had. I met friends I hadn't seen in years, and friends I didn't know I had. I realized we were all coming from the same background but with different circumstances. I would party with any of these people whenever I could and hopefully it doesn't have to wait another 2, 5, or 10 years for it to happen. Many people tell me they would never go to a reunion because they weren't friends with any of those people. I will tell them they don't know who they-ll meet, and it could be someone who will one day be very important to you. Thank you Lucy, Lorraine, Ruth, Rich, Thomas,, Duane, Steve, and Brenda. Thank you to everyone who spoke with me, and I pray we can all get together soon. I feel privileged and honored to call each and every one of you friend.

How Many Licks Does It Take?

I sometimes wonder how many times I have started licking a Tootsie Roll pop, only to throw it away. 

I used to love tootsie roll pops. That fruit-flavored hard candy that was so sweet it was sour, surrounded a soft chewy tootsie roll in the center, had many people wondering how many licks it would take to get to the center of the tootsie roll pop, thanks to that wise old owl.

I would start licking the lollipop and end up with a sore tongue and stretched lips. At some point, I would wrap the lollipop up in its original wrapper.

When I came back to the lollipop, the wrapper would be stuck, and hot water would be needed to remove the wrap, but it also melted the lollipop. Maybe I would find ants swarming or some other creepy crawlies on it. There was also the possibility it would be wearing a white fuzzy coat, or maybe I had forgotten how many licks I had already taken. Any way I looked at it, I couldn't eat that lollipop and had to throw it away.

So...why am I talking about lollipops? I think this lollipop is a metaphor for life.​

I was so busy trying to get to the center of that lollipop that I forgot to bite. I was afraid that if I bit the lollipop, I would be disappointed, so I just kept licking until I threw it away without finding the true insides.

I started thinking about my experiences as a writer. It amazes me how many times I have had someone call out of the blue to ask me if I would be interested in having my book turned into a movie, or having it published. Ultimately, my first question was, "How much is this going to cost me?" I learned years ago, that there is always a price.

Unfortunately, I didn't learn that lesson soon enough.

After several thousands of dollars being thrown away on scammers, my husband started doing the due diligence for me.

History lesson of the day: Scammers have been around since the beginning of time!!!!​

The Trojan Horse was a huge scam. A wooden horse given as a gift? (Let me rephrase that, "A huge wooden horse that is big enough to house half the male population of a village?') I would think that was strange. Bringing it inside the walls of the city without inspecting it? That was foolish. 

Someone trying to sell you the Brooklyn Bridge? Some people fell for that line. I'm sure some people fell for the pitch to sell them London Bridge, the Eiffel Tower, and even the Sphinx if they could come up with the money.

As early as the early 1800's someone was trying to convince people they could talk to people across the Pond without travel, and they bought the idea. That was before Thomas Edison and Alexander Graham Bell. 

The only difference is that now people have computers that allow them to reach out all over the world and perpetrate their scams on individuals, like me, and maybe you, who are trying to make their life easier.

I have learned my lesson. Although I have two books that may be on their way to fame, it will take at least one to two years before everything is finalized.

Before that, I had sent out about one hundred queries to reputable literary agencies,  hoping to get an agent.

One afternoon, I thought my prayers had been answered. The woman offered all the paperwork needed to show she was a literary agent. She even told me she had taken my book to Simon and Schuster and had represented it on my behalf. On paper that was emblazoned with Simon & Schuster's legendary letterhead and logo, was my name and the steps to be taken before I would get a contract.

I was willing to jump through hoops to make sure that contract happened. 

Three months later, the axe fell. The 'agent' I had been talking to, told me I was needed at the Frankfurt book fair. All I needed to do was come up with $5000 to secure a spot for my book. (I know. Like I should have seen what was coming, as clearly as you did)​​

I told her I had no money, especially that much. She stopped me right there and I could hear a smile in her voice. "I have already talked to 'Ms X' and she is willing to put $2000 in to help you and I am going to put $1000 in for you. That leaves a sum of only $2000 for you to pay." ​​​

ONLY!!!

​I"ve heard a lot of 'only' in my life. My kids would need new shoes, but they wanted the ones their friends wore, and, they were only $100.

Anyway, I've gone off the path.

By the end of two weeks, she was offering to pay all but $1000.

I was getting the feeling I had been drawn into the most elaborate scam I had heard ever of.

My 'agent' told me I had an all-expense paid trip to Frankfurt, Germany, a suite in the hotel nearest the book fair, and all of my food, entertainment, and other amenities needed for my comfort.​ 

I mulled this over for a moment and then stopped her mid-sentence.

"Are you telling me that although I've not signed the contract yet, Simon & Schuster is going to lay out close to $20,000 for this book fair, and I've not yet signed a contract? This doesn't sound right."

"Sherry. That is the surprise." She started to chuckle. "Normally, you wouldn't need to be physically present, but

​ 'Ms X', wants you to sign your contract and do an exclusive interview right there at the venue."

I asked her to give me an hour and call me back. I wanted to talk to my husband. 

My husband quickly got online and did a search about the Frankfurt International Book Fair, and found out that not only did it cost $250 to secure a spot, but the application for inclusion expired six months previous.

When my 'agent' called me back, it was difficult to start complaining before even saying hello, but I took a deep breath and counted to three, then answered politely. I apologized but told her I would return her call. I was presently on the other line. 

I hung up and contacted Simon & Schuster. I was told the acquisition of a manuscript took from one to three years.  'And my 'agent' had accomplished this entire thing within two months?' Furthermore, they had never heard of this woman and no one talked to  'Ms X' without an appointment.

He told me to call my local police. The local police took a statement, but it didn't end there. Three days later, I received a phone call from someone she was 'working with', but she was working 'for' and getting a very nice salary for it.

Because of me, she was fired and awaiting arraignment for charges of fraud and other things.

I felt guilty, elated, and foolish. I had fallen for an elaborate scam that had spanned almost six months. 

​I felt guilty that she seemed nice, although wayward, and I was the one who precipitated her going to jail

​Just like that lollipop I tried to lick long enough to count the licks, but failed, I was throwing away my ideas.

I've not given up on writing, and I am still following a dream I didn't know I had.

I just knew I didn't want that paper-stuck, white fuzzy-coated, ant-infested lollipop, and I don't want to ever be scammed again.

Happy Reading and for the love of all that's funny...Stay away from those sticky lollipops!

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