To stalk or not to stalk…that is the question

I’m just an average man, with an average life.
I work from nine to five; hey hell, I pay the price.
All I want is to be left alone in my average home;
But why do I always feel like I’m in the Twilight Zone, and

I always feel like somebody’s watching me.
And I have no privacy.
Woh, I always feel like somebody’s watching me.
Tell me is it just a dream

I was called a stalker recently. Years ago that would have been one of the worst things you could ever say to another human being. I have been called much worse in the past few years, so I am not as hurt as I might have been…especially because it is kinda true.

As I have mentioned here, I am an avid reader. I wrote an entire blog about how that began for me as an escape, but here I am at 40-something and still escaping my reality on a regular basis. My favorite author, bar none, is Karin Slaughter…and yes, that is her real name. (I am going to go against the “no real name” policy because she is a best-selling author around the world, and hope at least one of you will become a fan.) She is a thriller writer, who lives in the Atlanta area, and is a best selling author in many countries around the world as well as the only list that really matters, The New York Times Best Sellers List of Fiction…and I have gone to her book signings for the last ten years straight.

I was married to #2 who, as far as I know, never read a book after she graduated high school, and is the one that introduced me to Karin. I am an animated reader. When I read I react to what is happening. I gasp, and go all bug-eyed, and I would tell #2 what caused me to suck in all the air in the room. She would listen intently, and I guess she actually listened because she knew what I liked to read. On one particular Sunday #2 was reading the book reviews in the Atlanta Journal Constitution and said she though I might like the book in the review. I asked her to read the review to me because I am the laziest person on the planet. The review described her third book, A Faint Cold Fear, as an emotional rollercoaster ride, one that will take you through all emotions and blahblahblah. When she read the name of the author I told her to stop. I told her that, in my opinion, a woman cannot write like the review described.

At the time, I used to read only a few woman authors: Patricia Cornwell, Sue Grafton and Janet Evanovich. I liked their books but considered them “airplane books”. If I left them on the seat on an airplane, I wouldn’t really care too much and could easily move on to the next book on my shelf. I decided to give her a try anyway, but was not going to buy the newest book. I went to Half.com and bought her first book, BLINDSIGHTED, in paperback, for about a dollar including shipping. I didn’t care if the book sucked for a dollar.

The book arrived and I was not overly excited. I really had low expectations, but I also couldn’t wait to be able to say how the reviewer was wrong. The first chapter begins and we are introduced to Sarah Linton. She is the town pediatrician and county coroner as well. Sarah’s ex husband is the town sheriff and her family is also from this sleepy place called Grant County in South Georgia. Think Mayberry, only sleepier. The story begins with Sarah going through her daily drudgery of snotty kids and dopey parents. Sarah goes to meet her friends for lunch and finds one in the restroom eviscerated. The graphic description of the violence perpetrated on this woman had me cringing. I actually gasped, drawing in massive amounts of air, with my hand unconsciously drawn to cover my mouth. I was in love. I immediately ordered the second book and found out that Karin was doing a book signing 5 miles from my house for the book the aforementioned review was on.

I had finished the first 2 books and couldn’t wait to begin book number 3, A Faint Cold Fear. I left work a little early and drove to Chapter 11, a now defunct book chain in the Atlanta area. A sad side note, the book store filed Chapter 11 and closed down due to the onslaught of Barnes & Noble and Amazon.com. I arrived early (as I was taught to be on Lombardy time by my former employment at a pizza chain that rhymed with Momino’s) and walked around the smallish store, looking out the front door every time a car pulled into the parking lot. I guess I was expecting a limo or a Town Car with an entourage, but what I got was her pulling up in her own BMW SUV, parking right in front of the store and walking in with no pomp and circumstance at all. There was a tiny table with a few of her books stacked on it, but I was extremely disappointed that there wasn’t a red carpet, press with cameras or maybe even those ladies from Coming To America throwing rose petals at her feet. WHY DIDN’T PEOPLE KNOW WHAT I DID??? They soon would.

I waited as a few house fraus from Alpharetta walked up to her and got their books signed. I kept staring at her like a mental patient, listening intently to her interactions with the few others that, like me, got it. She eventually walked over to me and said, “Hi, I’m Karin. Would you like me to sign your book? ” I think I just nodded my head but soon began to speak…and I told her how I became familiar with her. I got to the point where I told #2 that I doubted any woman could write like the reviewer in the AJC described. She closed the book, unsigned, crossing her arms and said for me to continue. I went into the explanation about how when I read the first chapter of Blindsighted I knew that I was about to be taken on a roller coaster of excitement and I would cycle through every emotion possible. I told her how I ordered the second book online and even bought the first one in hardcover so I could have the entire set signed. She smiled at me and said I was lucky I brought it full circle, and she signed my books and thanked me for coming.

You can see she got all dressed up for the day. lol

I took a picture with her that day on my Blackberry and I was hooked. I have been to her book signings every year (with the exception of the year I had just moved to Jacksonville and separated from #2) and will continue to as long as I am capable. #2 worked in a photo lab and printed the pictures I took so I could get her to sign these at the book signings each year. One year I was waiting in the front row of a larger group of readers, maybe 50 folding metal seats and a few people standing in the back. When Karin arrived she looked at me and saw my face, instantly registering that something was wrong. She stopped walking and asked me what was wrong. I said nothing while clutching a manila folder with the picture, that I had taken the previous year, for her to sign. She asks again and I just shake my head no,no,no, and she said she wasn’t going to continue till I told her what the problem was. I sheepishly said I thought that she was wearing the same shirt from the previous year, and a few people. I am sure my face was bright red as I don’t have a poker face. Then she told me to give it to her and she held out her hand. I slowly stood and handed her the folder. She opened it, and I turned toward the crowd, embarrassed that I had put my author hero/crush on blast. It turns out the shirt was not the same but very similar. Jump forward to the next year, she arrived and looked around for me before she walked to the front of a much bigger group, maybe 75 to a hundred people now. She locked eyes with me and showed me she was wearing a solid colored shirt. She walked to the front and before she even said hello, she told the crowd the story from the previous year and then told them I had ruined her for the entire year as she couldn’t wear the striped button down shirts she loved so much for fear of seeing me around town. How cool was that????

The striped duplicate shirt.

The year after i “ruined” her fashion choices.

I am going to stop here and continue in another blog. See you in a few.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it….