“Stephen, I don’t think this looks right,” I said as my brother Stephen gets off the interstate.
“No, no we’re fine;” he assured me, “keep your eyes out for a Barns and Noble.”
There was no Barns and Noble in sight. Frankly none of it looked right. The Barns and Noble should have been close to the interstate exit.
Today was a day that I had been looking forward to since mid August. It was September twelfth and Stephen and I were on our way to a Terry Brooks book signing. I was so nervous, and the butterflies in my stomach were doing gymnastics or something. The signing was at seven o’clock, and it was almost six thirty.
“Oh, I guess I did take the wrong exit after all,” said Stephen taking a U-turn.
“Stephen’s going to make us late. I just know it,” I thought to myself.
This time Stephen did get off at the right exit and then I saw it, the Barns and Noble. We quickly parked and made our way into the building. Right as we walked in I was hit with the wonderful aroma of printed paper, knowledge, and a hint of imagination. In front of us was a great long table that was laid out with tons of Terry Brook fiction. A banner wrapped about the table that read.
Terry Brooks Book Signing September 12th
Celebrating Thirty Years of Magical Adventures
“Wow! It’s been thirty years already? Time does fly.”
“This must be the new one,” said Stephen to me as he picked up an indigo colored book. I picked up one myself.
It was smaller, but that’s probably because the last books I had gotten were Trilogy sets and were three times as big as this one. It indeed was indigo, with dark indigo wispy designs on it. In the center was a gold coin with two faces facing opposite directions. The coin was getting broken in half and white sparks were coming from it. At the top French Script Calligraphy font read.
The Dark Legacy of Shannara
Wards of Faerie
“I wonder what this one is going to be about.” I wondered.
I looked up to discover that my brother Anthony had found us and was busy talking with Stephen. Quickly I purchased the book and hurried after my brothers. Anthony showed us where the book signing was going to take place. At the entrance a man gave out numbered yellow paper wrist bands for those who wanted to get their book signed. At the back of the room there were sticky tabs with an assortment of pens next to them.
“You use those to write what you want the author to sign in your book,” explained Anthony to me.
“Did you fill out a post it note?” I asked Anthony as I wrote down what I wanted written in my book.
“I guess I’ll just ask for his signature,” he shrugged, “Actually I kind of wish I didn’t buy the book.”
My eyes bulged. “Why not?”
Stephen responded for Anthony. “It’s common courtesy to buy their latest book when coming to their book signing. Mostly people show up just to meet the author, but it’s being polite to buy the book.”
“Actually, Stephen do you want to take it home with you?” asked Anthony.
“Are you sure?” asked Stephen.
“Yeah, I haven’t even finished reading the Elfstones of Shannara, and then I might want to read the other ones after that. It’ll take a really long time,” said Anthony as we found seats in the middle row on the left side of the room.
“You’re still reading the Elfstones of Shannara”
“I ate through that book in like five days. He’s been reading it for like three years,” I thought to myself.
“Yeah, how far along are you in the Elfstones of Shannara?” asked Stephen.
“Well, it’s been awhile since I read it so I’ve forgotten much of what has already happened, so I started reading it all over again.”
I rolled my eyes. “He’ll never finish reading it.” I thought.
I opened the front cover where I had placed my post it note.
“I hope it wasn’t too long,” stated Stephen.
I shook my head. “No.”
“Here, let me read it,” he said as he took it from my book.
Quickly he scanned its contents and he started laughing. Anthony grabbed it from his hands and read it too. He gave a small chuckle as well.
“Magic never dies keep it in your heart always.”
“Oh brother,” they scoffed.
I started to blush, “What’s wrong with it?”
“Just don’t put that. Have him just sign your name,” said Stephen.
I consented and went back for another sticky note. After that incident I checked my phone, seven oh four. Ugh four minutes late. As I did that someone came up to the podium saying Mr. Brooks was going to be a few minutes late, but it should not take long.
“Hey Elizabeth, do you thin Philomena would like this book. I don’t need it yet and I can just borrow yours when I have time to read it. We’ll get it signed for her too, I’ll go grab another sticky note,” he said as he got up and headed toward the back of the room.
“A signed book for Phil? She is going to freak out! I did feel very bad that she could not come with me. I do hope this lessens the blow if it though.”
In no time Stephen came back. And no sooner had he done that when the same man got back up to the podium. He gave a brief background of Terry’s life, but nothing that I hadn’t already heard about. He wrote his first book at seventeen, was a lawyer for many years, and then retired to write full time. And he lived in Seattle with his wife Judine.
As the man at the podium was explaining all this a sudden fear crossed my mind. What if he wasn’t everything I had hoped for? What if he was the quiet shy type. I had a set image in my mind as an energetic fun guy. I knew I would be sad if he wasn’t everything I had imagined him to be.
“Now ladies and gentlemen may I introduce Mr. Terry Brooks.”
Peals of cheers rang through the room as Terry Brooks entered on the right and approached the podium waving to the crowd. He was normal height with short white hair and with a great big smile on his face. He wore a tan Hawaiian type shirt with kaki pants with loafers.
Everything slowed for a moment in my mind. There he was just twelve feet in front of me. I soaked in the moment and I do believe my cheers were the loudest in the room. He reached the podium and the room went silent.
“Hello everyone I’m sorry for being late I was held up at a dinner date with a friend,” he started.
“So thirty years. It’s hard to believe that it’s been so long. It hardly feels like it has been ten. I want to start this off by thanking all of you for coming out today, you guys always give me so much support,” he was responded with another wave of cheers.
“Next I would like to talk about the new book,” Terry said as he held up a brand new copy of the book I was holding, “The Wards of Faerie. How many of you have read this book?”
Out of the one hundred and thirty people there were about fifteen people who raised their hands.
“Don’t spoil it for the rest of the other people,” he said sharing an excited grin and pointing at some of the raised hands. Many people laughed, “Just joking guys. I’m going to tell you a bit about it anyway.”
“Over the course of thirty years many people would say ‘Terry you always talk about elfstones and about at one point in time there were tones of different ones. There are only three left what happened to them all? What color were they? What did they do?’ And I always replied ‘How would I know?’” Everyone laughed in response, “So I decide to write a story about where they went and why no one could find them.”
“And since this is Shannara’s thirtieth anniversary I wanted to do something special. Fist off since this is a trilogy series we are going to come out with all three books in less than on year.”
Everyone shouted with joy, because everyone knew Terry’s book rate was one book per year. I had voiced my displeasure about the fact I was going to have to wait three years to find out how this story would end.
“And also people have missed the illustrations that we have done in the early books so we’ve included an illustrated poster that can be found in the back of the book. The artwork was done by Mr. Todd Lockwood.
Simultaneously everyone opened his or her books to find a poster. Oooohs and ahhhs sounded through the room.
Terry went on to explain more about the book after that. Then he read a chapter from one if his short stories titled ‘The Weapon Masters Choice.’ He was a fantastic reader. It was as if his words were magic themselves. As he started unraveling this tale I clearly envisioned a picture before me as if it was happening before my eyes. It was more exhilarating then I could describe.
Next he took questions from the crowd; I knew I had to think of something to ask. Fist he picked a man in the first row.
“Where do you get inspiration for names for the people in your books?”
Terry repeated the question so all could hear, “Well I can get inspiration from anything; peoples names town names. I named a town in one of my books after an Italian dish I had in a restraint once,” Many people chuckled, “And I write them down in a note book that I always keep with me.”
My smiled increased. I have a note book that I keep ideas in too. The hand went up again and Terry picked a young boy form the back of the room.
“What is your favorite book that you’ve written?”
Again Terry repeated the question, “For me it’s always the book that I’m coming out with, but if I had to pick one I would say The Elfstones of Shannara.”
Immediately the boy began waving a copy of The Elfstones of Shannara that he had purchased prior to his book signing.
From the other side of the room Terry picked a middle-aged girl.
“Are there any plans for a movie?”
As before Terry repeated the question, “Warner Brother Studios has the legal documents to make a movie we’re waiting for a good director and a screen writer to come along though however an actor has signed on for the role of Ben Holiday for the Landover series. Yeah some guy named Steve Carroll,” many people gasped at that, including me. Others clapped with joy, “The project is still on the shelf though everyone.”
It was after that that I raised my hand. And it was my luck that Terry Brooks picked me.
When did you start writing the Sword of Shannara (which was his first book)?
“Actually I started when I went to law school. It was sort to f something I was doing to pass the time. Then I became addicted and eventually found myself writing during class,” he said keeping his eyes on me.
“Something else we have in common,” I though to myself, “It does help to pass the time during Chemistry.”
After me a few more questions were asked and then it was time for the book signing.
“O.K. that’s all the questions for today. And again I want to thank you al for coming out today. I have the best fans. Thank you,” loud cries and claps rang throughout the room as he left the podium and headed off to a desk to my far right.
People got up and filed into a roped in area tat lead to the desk that Terry was at. They let twenty-five people in at one time. I checked my yellow wristband. Seventy-five. Rats I’m going to have to wait a long time.
In the mean time Anthony, Stephen, and I looked around the store at different books and just talked. It wasn’t for almost an hour later that numbers fifty to seventy five were called. We snaked through many bookcases to get to were Terry was. We rounded a corner and there he was.
Two people were in front of s by now. This was it, the moment I had been waiting for. I get to take to him. What should I say? I should say something tat will make you remember me.
Only one person in front of us now. Terry there with his wife Judine. This was actually the first time seeing her. She was very pretty. But before I could think on it more it was our turn. Stephen was in front of me.
“Hello,” greeted Stephen.
“Hello,” Terry greeted back.
“And just for the record my name is not Philomena,” stated Stephen with a laugh. It made Terry laugh too.
“I’ve heard stranger things,” said Terry.
“Do you think we could get a picture?” asked Stephen.
“Sure thing,” assured Terry.
It was my turn. I handed my book to Terry. He began writing down my name. I was so nervous. He paused and looked up at me with a smile.
“Gee you have blue eyes,” I thought, “Like an aquamarine blue. Oh, he’s waiting for me to say something. Say something!”
“Hi,” I squeaked. He gave a chuckle, he must of felt that I was nervous.
“I just wanted to say how much of an inspiration you have been to me,” I gushed to him.
Then there was a pause, which was broken by Terry.
“Are you a writer to?”
“Yeah,” I beamed, “Me and my friend Philomena,” I said as I pointed to the book in Stephens’s hands.
“I kind of figured from the question you asked. You just keep on writing,” he said.
I think I blushed some more, “Thank you. You keep on writing too.”
“Don’t worry,” he assured me, “I’m going to live forever.”
Then Stephen Terry and I all went to the side and had our picture taken by Anthony. Terry put his arms around us and gave us a friendly squeeze, like we were old friends. As I smiled I was satisfied, he was beyond my expectations.