Chapter 28 I’ve Never Told Anyone #3
“Wonderful. Please don’t let me get in the way.”
All eyes went back to Bianca. It was now or never.
Bianca had never been one to open up about herself. Never let them see you sweat. Today felt different, though.
Who in the flipping world cared whether she was perfect? Perhaps it was better to be honest and open, to pour out her heart. If she were to ever write another book, that’s what she’d do differently. She wouldn’t hide behind a fake name. She’d own her damage. Strut it, even!
Bianca rubbed her hands together, ready to start a fire, ready to leave some serious burn marks—the right kind.
“Someone asked where Peggy Meh came from. Let me tell you.” She set the stage for those who hadn’t read the book yet, then spoke about the name being a placeholder.
“I was going to search and replace it with a proper name once I found one, but then my agent, who fired me today, decided it was catchy. According to the reviews so far, I wouldn’t say ‘catchy’ is what readers are saying. ” Damn right she finger-quoted catchy.
“The reviews aren’t good?” a woman asked, this one part of a trio of fortysomethings.
“Um, no,” Bianca said. “I’ve been shredded to pieces, actually. But that’s okay. I could have done better.”
“I loved it,” Moira said. “And you know what, screw the reviews. People have no idea what they’re talking about these days.”
“That’s sweet of you to say.”
Others chimed in, saying similarly nice things.
“Thanks to all of you, but if I could do it again, I’d do things differently. Firstly, I’d search and replace Peggy’s name with my own, because what I’ve realized is I wrote this book for me. Or about me. Maybe both.” Saying it soothed her soul.
She raised her hand high. “I am Bianca Meh . . . trying to become Bianca Megawatt. That’s who I’ve always been, on a desperate path to supercharge myself.
And I’ve refused to let anyone see the real me till I became that supercharged person.
But thanks to a few friends lately, and my dad, and thanks to Italy, too, I’ve realized that I’ve gotten this whole thing wrong.
I built a practice back in Austin based on what I thought would make a person matter, the importance of becoming supercharged, of leaving burn marks, but that’s not what life’s about. ”
Bianca looked over at the stack of her books featured on an endcap of the self-development section. “Forgive me, Moira. I’m so grateful for your help in promoting this book, but I need to do something that I’ve wanted to do all day.”
She stood and took one of the copies of the book and held up the cover, then she pointed to the middle figure in the evolution of Peggy Meh, who grew taller and skinnier and stronger with each transformation.
“This is where the book should have stopped. No one needs to be a Megawatt. In fact, I’m officially disbanding the Megawatters right now.
What I’ve laid out is an unachievable path to perfection.
Yeah, there are good ideas here, but I went too far.
What about Peggy in the Middle? What about Bianca in the Middle?
A slightly damaged human trying to better herself without beating herself up. Without being ashamed.”
Bianca smiled, feeling everyone staring at her but not worried about it. This was the best she’d felt since swimming in the sea in Ischia.
You will never be here again, Bianca. Own this moment with your entire self.
“My readers always ask if I’m working on anything new. What I want to do is rewrite this book. No, not even rewrite it. Just tear it in half.” She opened the book, guesstimated the middle, then started to tear.
“Okay, this was a lot easier in my head.”
Everyone laughed.
She dug in with all she had, eventually finding a way to separate the pages and tear apart the spine.
Two halves in her hands, she tossed the last half over her shoulder and let it drop dramatically. “That part, that’s what we don’t need. No one ever needs to achieve megawatt-dom. All we have to do is our best, right? And leaving burn marks? What was I thinking?”
Bianca turned to find Moira shrinking, and she recalled the tattoo on her arm. “I mean, it’s a fine sentiment.” No, she wasn’t going to back off. “Look, Moira, and all of you, I’m sorry, but I feel like I misled everyone, and I can’t hold it back another moment.”
To Moira directly, she said, “I’ll pay for it to be removed if you want.
I know this is horrible to say, especially since you were so kind to have me, but I messed up with this book, and I don’t want anyone to leave burn marks.
I want people to own who they are at any given moment and to love their entire selves. ”
“I don’t think you messed up,” Moira finally said.
“I mean, okay, point made. No one needs to live to the extremes, but your book changed my life. And I’m proud of the tattoo.
I still love the idea of leaving burn marks.
I’m not here to float through life. I’m here to disrupt.
To be irreverent. To break free. Maybe what the book means to you has changed, but once you put a book out into the world, once anyone puts art into the world, it becomes the possession of the reader or the one experiencing it.
You didn’t mislead me. You led me to me.
The reason we’re all here is this book actually.
The reason that I’m becoming stronger and finding a reason to keep going, despite my terrible past, is because of you.
So no, you can’t take away this book, and you can’t even tell me what’s right and wrong in it. ”
Bianca had no words.
Moira glanced at Harold. “I even tried to kiss a man yesterday, which was the first time since my divorce. It didn’t work out but that’s okay. I tried, and that’s what living is. That is what leaving burn marks is. Taking chances. Seizing every moment.”
“Fair enough,” Bianca said. “My God, sister, you’re the one that needs to write a book.”
A clap, then another, then the whole room.
Moira sat back and crossed her arms.
“May I say something?” It was Sandy.
The rest of the room quieted and let her speak.
Holding her phone out, she said to Bianca, “I want to read some of the reviews to you. Sure, I see a few bad ones, but art is subjective, isn’t it? I don’t like anything that Moira reads, but does that make her wrong? Well, okay, in that case, I’m righter than her, but that’s beside the point.”
Sandy held her hand high to shush the laughter. “Let me read some of these.”
Bianca braced herself.
“This book saved my life.” Sandy removed her glasses and looked at Bianca. “You could stop right there, couldn’t you? I have never saved anyone’s life. How many in this room have? You’ve saved a life, Bianca. That’s on top of giving your all to make a book and then putting yourself out there.”
Sandy went back for more. “Another five-star. I’m leaving my husband because of this book.
I won’t let him walk over me anymore. There you go.
I haven’t read your book, but if it would have given me the courage to walk out on my first husband sooner, then what you did is enough.
So tear your book in half, beat yourself up.
Whatever you need to do. But then get back to writing because the world needs authors.
Especially authors like you who care so much about what they’re doing. And I can see that.”
Bianca felt eyes on her again; her hands trembled. “You’re going to make me cry; thank you.” Then she did it, darn tears gushing out.
Moira put a hand on her. “Let it out, girl.”
Someone in the audience whispered, “Best. Book club. Ever.”
The whole room, Bianca included, exploded with teary-eyed laughter.