I was interviewed on TV recently. The newscaster asked me questions about my book. I was doing okay until the interviewer asked me why I wrote the book. I couldn't remember. She asked me to close my eyes and try and remember the day I started writing. I closed my eyes.
I remembered sitting at home watching, "Leave It to Beaver". I like that show. I always makes me laugh. Halfway through the show, the power went out. I waited. About an hour passed. I got restless. I didn't know what to do. I don't read. I didn't have any friends at the time. I didn't need to get groceries. I wasn't tired enough to take a nap.
At the time I didn't have a stove. I cooked all my meals in a BBQ pit in my backyard. I had a big bag of charcoal in my kitchen. It caught my eye. I got up and went over to it. I took out a charcoal briquette. It felt good holding it in my hand. I felt compelled to write on my walls. I didn't have any posters or pictures on them so there was a lot of space. Plus it helped that I write small. I began writing my book.
I finished writing by around two am. I ended up using most of the bag of charcoal. My hands were pretty dirty. I had to wash them for about a half hour. I then took pictures of the writing, with my camera phone. I downloaded them to my computer. I found the email addresses of book publishers and sent the photos to them. About a week later a publisher contacted me and offered me a good deal and I took it.
The newscaster said it was an inspiring story. In retrospect, I can see what she meant.
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