Illustration by Jackson Marra
It took a surreal encounter at Starbucks for this starry-eyed author to find her place among the stars.
Ever since childhood, Andrea wielded a wicked way for writing. Over the years, she created poems, short stories, essays and the occasional novella. And the seminal scribe always concocted enough quirks in her works to air her literary flair.
The Montclair State University newcomer innately understood that the pen is mightier than the sword. Andrea’s unique literary voice made that sword glisten like a lightsaber. She wielded her wordsmith weapon like a jumbo Jedi knight. Her prose’s charm tore up the page like tempestuous tie-fighters.
Over the years, the freshman had racked up a constellation of writing awards, testimonials and honorable mentions. Her parents, friends and high school advisors repeatedly pushed her to pursue her forte for fiction in college.
Predictably, Andrea majored in English with a creative writing concentration. And that decision boded better than an honorific omen from the Greek muse Calliope. Her stories captivated readers with her scintillating sentences, colorful characters, and pre-eminent plots.
Not surprisingly, Andrea earned herself advancement placement in the university’s English major program. She could forget those flunky freshman composition courses full of wayward writers. The 18-year-old collegiate felt in her bones that she embodied the essence of a notable novelist. And why not? The freshman was already becoming the talk of Dickson Hall from the English department to the university English Club.
After all, what could stop Andrea from trumping the fame of Stephen King if she is the queen of words? Her craft came to her with seemingly supernatural ease. She could present pretty prose as easily as King’s breakout novel character Carrie could turn on telekinesis.
Andrea felt she could any conquer any creative challenge in the solar system. However, that assessment would unveil an astronomical oversight. The well-intentioned writer was about to get mired in a messy manuscript following a trek into unfamiliar territory.
The trouble started when Andrea boldly went where she had not gone before. She decided to try her hand at penning her first sci-fi saga for an honors novel writing class. The audacious author thought she had the write stuff to synthesize a space adventure. Her overconfidence added up to a cosmic miscalculation. Andrea soon found herself hopelessly lost in space to the outer limits.
The freshman aspired to write something as wicked as War Of the Worlds. However, her first draft degenerated into a winless war of the words. Andrea simply lacked a feel for science fiction. She reached to make realism materialize like a malfunctioning transporter. Her budding book’s believability felt as far-flung as a voyage to the Whirlpool Galaxy.
Andrea aimed for an epic à la Star Wars. Yet, an empire of obstacles was striking back at her with a Darth Vader like vengeance. The novel’s plot lumbered like an imperial walker. The characters felt as mechanical as C3PO. The storyline careened hopelessly in hyperspace. These setbacks had Andrea’s creative writing professor howling at her like Chewbacca. At this point, she knew her star-crossed story was headed to Death Star style destruction.
Andrea had to break her writer’s block if she wanted to muster a blockbuster. A deep Google search unearthed a promising source. The ne’er-do-well novelist saw an ad for a writing coach entitled Leads From Lydia. The glaring graphics highlighted a Montclair area address. Andrea’s curiosity was instantly piqued. She emailed Leads From Lydia for further information.
Subsequently, the freshman discovered that a Montclair State alumna ran this mentorship service. Andrea was impressed by Leads From Lydia’s background. This advisor’s publishing credentials stretched longer than the fabled yellow brick road. It became crystal clear that Leads From Lydia just might reignite Andrea’s lost literary sight overnight.
Inevitably, arrangements were made for a meeting in the Sprague Library. Andrea was just dying to meet Lydia in person. She instinctively sensed this character was more singular than a tie-die twinkling aurora. Her optimism glowed like non-stop northern lights. Yet, the freshman could hardly foresee her riotous reaction upon meeting Lydia.
The next day, Andrea was sitting in Sprague Library’s first floor study hall facing Cole Hall. She was typing some notes into her notebook. When Andrea turned around, she spotted Lydia striding into the room. This oddball’s attire would standout at a sellout Mets home game. The way Lydia’s clothing conveyed her non-conformist nature was simply amazin’.
Lydia was dressed in a denim jacket with scads of sixties era stickers. Her shoulder length hair was sprayed lavender on one side and pink on the other. She had a beret that resembled an amethyst and sapphire mackerel sky. Lydia’s faded and ripped blue jeans looked like it got wasted by the Vietnam war. Andrea wondered if Lydia had teleported herself straight from Woodstock, knock on wood!
The maverick mentor plopped herself down in a chair across the table from Andrea. Lydia listened to her client’s sob story about her sky-high blown sci-fi try. Andrea was still ranting when Lydia interrupted her with an intriguing proposition. The convention-bucking bohemian reached into her piebald hippie van theme duffle bag. She pulled out a crimson envelope.
“Maybe you should give what’s in here a real college try,” she said, with a smile.
Andrea looked at Lydia quizzically.
“What the dickens is this?”
“This,” Lydia said enthusiastically, “is the answer to all of your writing problems.” Lydia beamed a sunny smile. “Go ahead! Open the envelope.”
Andrea fingered open the envelope’s flap and lifted out a coupon. She put on her reading glasses. A single look at the voucher had the freshman doubled up in laughter threefold. The chit offered a free Holodeck Latte at the Sprague Library Starbucks.
The collegiate gazed at Lydia incredulously.
“Is this some kind of joke?”
“No!” Lydia said with a straight face. “This Holodeck Latte is exactly what you need to kick your writing up a number of notches.” Andrea remained unimpressed as Lydia continued. “Look! You got nothing to lose. This drink ain’t gonna cost you a dime. It will do a world of good for you and then some. You can bet dollars to donuts on that.”
Andrea’s face wrinkled up in worry. Her misgivings sparked an instant reply from the colorfully caparisoned coach.
“Trust me. You’ll thank me a million times for this advice. And you’ll wind up making millions of bucks from this too! You won’t have to pay me a nickel unless you do. I can tell you right now we’ll both be in the money if you go through with this.”
The writer harbored reservations about this one-off situation. She sensed she was sitting in some silly skit straight out of Second City Television. One part of Andrea felt like tossing her laptop out the window with her misbegotten manuscript. Even so, her inquisitive side prevailed over her doubt. The freshman felt she needed to see Lydia’s true colors; not just those of her wacky wardrobe.
Besides, Andrea was dying to see if this literary tutor’s proposition would pay off as promised. True, this far-out femme could easily fit in a “Star Trek: The Next Generation” episode. Despite that, Andrea felt completely compelled to “Engage!” as Captain Jean-Luc Picard would say. Little did the anxious author know she was taking the first step towards publishing world glory.
In any event, Andrea knew she could do a number on Lydia if she proved to be a tenth-rate quack. With that, the woebegone writer snapped up the coupon with fourfold anticipation. She dashed to the Sprague Library Starbucks with the motion of a momentous mission.
Shortly thereafter, Andrea placed an order for a Holodeck Latte. To her astonishment, the barista took her request without batting an eye. A few minutes later, another employee called out Lydia’s name. The freshman grabbed her drink by the sleeve. She slowly lifted up the lid. She spotted a white foamy Star Trek delta, the classic symbol of the original TV series’ Starfleet, floating on her coffee.
Andrea sipped the concoction which tasted ambrosially sweet. She took another inviting nip. Then a spell struck her as quickly as a food synthesizer’s warbling. Something jolted Andrea’s consciousness like a Vulcan nerve pinch. Only this transformation did not knock her out. Instead, it cracked her gruff as granite writer’s block.
Andrea waltzed back to study room. She started to sense her creative engines revving up. Goosebumps galloped through her body like the starship Enterprise’s engines accelerating towards warp speed. She returned to the study room where Lydia sat patiently.
“So, how do you like your Holodeck Latte so far?” Lydia said playfully.
Andrea smiled with pleasure.
“Out of this world! Not only is this drink’s zest the best in the west, but my literary logjam disappeared. I now know exactly what I must do to make my sci-fi novel work!”
Andrea promptly jumped on her portable. She deleted her asteroid belt jumble of a manuscript. She started a fresh work with a plot that rocked by light-years. The freshman started to scribe a sterling story that was more gravitating than a black hole. The reinvigorated writer took more sips of her Holodeck Latte as she typed away on her keyboard.
“I now feel like I am boldly going where no author has gone before!” she declared, as Lydia gave a thumbs up.
As it would happen, Lydia’s prophetic words would be a galactic understatement. If only she knew the immortality and immense wealth that she and her mentor were about to reap.
