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 Meet Greta. A 30-something single-mom living in Chicago proper, ghostwriting for a man she has never met. She’s miraculously completed the monthly manuscript deadline and received any unusually large package from the FedEx man: a new laptop, a crisp $1 bill, and a note saying he’s ready for a public appearance.
Missed a chapter? Read Chapter 1 | Read Chapter 2
“Clamming is coming out of the closet?” I gasped into the telephone receiver awaiting Jennifer Sealy’s response.
Jen was Clamming’s agent. After the second book hit the bestseller list he hired her. She was responsible for approving each new book idea, the outlines, jacket covers, marketing blurbs, getting the books on the shelves and read, and most importantly, to keep Clamming’s image under wraps. Again, the only contact Jen had ever had with Clamming was via telephone or e-mail.
“I KNOW!” she squealed. “I just got a package today too. Though mine did not carry a new Macbook.” I detected a bit of jealousy. “Just a bunch of signed approval forms.”
“Hey, you are the one that got an office on the lakefront last year for Christmas!” I sat down on the zebra clad couch.
She was laughing now. “You got me there! I was hinting regularly that holding press interviews in the Starbucks down the street from my house was just not cutting it anymore. I got what I wanted.”
“And that is a hell of a lot more expensive than a laptop!” She knew I was right. “So… what do you know?”
“You’re the one with the CD. Play the damn thing!” I could hear her 8 year-old son playing the Playstation. It must be her week to be with him, as she always worked from home on days he was visiting.
I slipped the compact disk into the drive and waited for it to boot up a viewer. The video player opened and there was a picture of a sunset on a tropical beach. Waves were washing ashore and there was a soft lullaby type music playing in the background.
“What the hell?” I sat up straight on the couch.
“What?”
“A beach. Palm trees. Music….Shhhh. It’s panning.”
The screen panned towards the left and there was a grass hut cottage with a fire pit rising in high orange flames. The voice over began.
Greta, it is your turn to start an adventure of your own.
I laughed- well, more like snorted.
“What’s so funny? Greta- what’s on the screen?”
The video panned back to the shoreline, the images faded into an African horizon with giraffes, elephants and a safari truck. The audio continued.
You can begin a virtual search around the world to find me. I’ll help you each week by sending clues.
Images of India, China, Greenland, Australia filled the screen.
After completing the game, you and Jen will join me at my location and we’ll schedule a press release for our readers to join in their own adventure.
A train appeared, sail boats, horses, camels, buses, and cars.
When someone finds me, I’ll finally reveal who I really am.
The screen faded to black.
I’ll send more details shortly. Your work has been impeccable. I hope I live up to your expectations.
The video ended. I was dumbfounded. Or awestruck. Or just plain sleep-deprived. These days it’s hard to tell the difference.
“Oh my god…. ” Jen whispered, “he’s lost it.”
Help write the next chapter! Your idea could wind up in Greta's life.
Clamming has challenged Greta to find him. Only problem is he could be anywhere! Where should Greta look first? Give us your comments below, and if we pick your adventure, you’ll become a character in the story (that is, if you want to reveal yourself to the author)!
Bethany Hiitola lives in a far north suburb of Chicago with her husband, son and new daughter. Throw in the animals, and it is a full house of chaos. Somehow, Bethany still manages to reach for her dream of writing—all between diaper changes, nap times, fixing meals, and work projects. Oh and giving her husband the attention he deserves. More details are at her website: www.bethanyhiitola.com
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