On The Radio

A/N: This is the last part of this little story. I wish all of my readers a Merry Christmas (or insert the holiday of your choice here), and I hope to catch you all after New Year's. Thank you for reading, and for the feedback.

Part 6 - Inspiration

"For the last time today, welcome back to this weeks' interview in The Book Club. I am Jane Stanton, and with me I have Jess Mariano, author of the book Contingent, and my old, and new, friend.

"Hello again."

"So, we ended the last part of the program with a request from a listener, who also had a message. Now, I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't ask if that was the answer to your dedication we were talking about earlier."

"Yeah, it was."

"Wow, that was a lot easier than I thought it would be. I had half expected to have to drag any answer out of you."

"With the risk of repeating myself, life is all about surprises."

"And this was definitely one of them. So, why the change of heart? Any connection to the phone messages during the song?"

"You could say that."

"Now you're just mocking me."

"Sorry. Bad habit."

"Oh, don't I know it. But really, that song was from her?"

"Yeah."

"And the messages?"

"Yeah."

"Wow. This is better than I thought."

"Don't expect too much."

"You said yourself that she is no longer in your life."

"She isn't."

"So, what is she to you now?"

"My inspiration and motivation."

"I thought that was writing?"

"No, writing is the means. But there wouldn't be any writing without inspiration."

"Are you saying she's the reason you went from notes in the margins to writing your own stories?"

"Yeah, you could say that. She believed in me when no one else did, even myself."

"So she's the one who saved you from falling down the rabbit hole?"

"Yes."

"And now you haven't seen her in almost four years?"

"Not quite. We've seen each other a couple times since then, but now it's been a while."

"She's what set you on the path to writing this book, isn't she? She's what happened last spring."

"Yeah. She's been at the center of every major development in my life for the past six years. It's just the way it is."

"It is what it is."

"Yeah."

"And what do you think you are to her?"

"Hopefully, a not too painful memory."

"That's rather depressing, don't you think?"

"It's realistic."

"You really need to learn some positive thinking."

"Maybe. I just don't think I'm the positive type."

"And still, you wrote this book that's really, inherently positive."

"I did. But I also wrote The Subsect."

"And that is not exactly positive."

"No, not really. But I don't think you can really judge the author by his or her work. Just imagine how many truly horrific murderers there would be in the world if that were the case."

"You do have a point."

"And I think it all depends on how you view life in just that moment of writing. When I wrote the major parts of The Subsect, I was at perhaps my lowest point ever. I think that reflects in the writing."

"To some extent, I have to agree. But at the same time, it is not completely black either. There is still some hope in there."

"There is. I don't think anything could work without any trace of hope. If you lose that completely, then what's the point?"

"And that's a major theme of your new book."

"It is. One of the things that connect all those people is the way they all still have that sense of hope for the future."

"Yeah."

"And I think that's important to hold on to. It doesn't matter how else you view the world, if you lose all hope for the future, then you're in trouble."

"Have you ever felt that?"

"I have."

"Oh. What happened?"

"It was on my first cross country trip. My life had become this big horrible mess, and I had run away from everything I knew because I was so terrified I didn't know what else to do. It was the last thing I should've done, but at the time, I didn't see that. When I finally figured it out, I just assumed it was too late to do anything about it. So I was on the wrong side of the country, chasing ghosts from my past, realizing I had single handedly ruined the best thing that ever happened to me. And all around there was the sand and beach and happy people of California. It was such a contrast to how I was feeling, and I think it broke me for a while."

"How did you get back up?"

"That day was when I started writing my first book."

"So writing was what helped you?"

"It was. Even though I wasn't really conscious of what I was writing. It loosened something in me, and I just went with it."

"Your own personal therapy."

"I guess you could say that."

"But you didn't try to go back and fix things?"

"I didn't. I still hadn't learned enough."

"And if you could go back?"

"Then I wouldn't have left. But you can't live like that. And if I hadn't left, I might not have started writing. And it could've gone all wrong some time later instead. Which is the whole point. You can't know what will happen in the future. You can only try to live now, and make the most of what you've got."

"Hence the realistic view on life."

"Exactly."

"Before we round up, I have to ask you something I ask everyone."

"Ok, shoot."

"If you could give one piece of advice to any aspiring author out there, what would it be?"

"Write. Don't think so much about what you're writing. Try different things, different styles, and just write. As much as you can. If there is a story inside of you, you will find it eventually. Or maybe it will find you."

"I like that. The story finding you."

"And remember that everyone is different. What works for one person, doesn't work at all for someone else."

"Do you have any specific traits as a writer?"

"I don't know. Probably that I prefer writing by hand. For me, it makes it more real, but it's a pain when it comes to editing."

"I can see your point. But, it seems to be working."

"So far, so good."

"Did you just reference Bryan Adams?"

"Unintentionally, but yes. I believe so."

"Weird."

"You said it yourself, I've mellowed since New York."

"True. And now, just because it's been bugging me. You said you haven't seen this woman more than a handful of times in the past almost five years. And yet, you have her number in your phone?"

"Actually, I didn't. I just happened to see it when I was last visiting my uncle. And I've got a pretty good memory when it comes to anything written."

"So it was just chance."

"Pretty much."

"And still you don't think it means anything?"

"That I can remember a phone number? Not really. I'm pretty sure I could still recite that awful book they made us memorize in middle school, and that note you left on my door when we were six. It's just how my mind works when it comes to anything written."

"I still say there's something there."

"That's your right."

"Anyway, it's been a pleasure having you here, and I think our listeners agree. We've gotten quite a lot of phone calls and emails during the show."

"Ok."

"And, quite a lot of them are wondering if you're having a signing while you're in the city."

"Actually, I am. There's one this afternoon in the Village, and one tomorrow at the Lower East Side. All details can be found on my publisher's web site."

"Perfect. But, I do hope I get a signed copy before you leave here."

"Of course."

"So, another thing our listeners want to know is, will you call that soul mate if yours?"

"I think that's none of their business."

"Well, whether you like it or not, you're a public figure now."

"Great."

"And a last question. Why is there no picture of you anywhere on your books?"

"Why should there be?"

"It's a well-known tactic to increase sales."

"Well, I'm not interested in people buying my book because of a picture, and I don't see how my picture would do anything for the sales anyway."

"I could give you a few reasons, but I respect your opinion."

"I just can't figure out why you'd want to buy a book based on how the author looks. That just sounds crazy to me. It's what's written inside that matters."

"I think we'll stop this here, and refer any of our listeners who are curious to come to the signings."

"And to read the book, if they haven't already."

"Absolutely. Everyone out there who hasn't already got a copy of Jess Mariano's book Contingent, get one and read it now."

"Wow. Stern voice."

"Maybe it worked."

"Maybe."

"Well, our time here is up. So, thank you very much for coming. It's been fun, and interesting."

"Thank you."

"And thank you to all of my listeners. I will be back next week, with a new exciting author."

"I hope you pick someone good."

"Always."

Rory was sitting at the table, nervously fiddling with her phone, wondering what to do now. She had a new browser open on her computer, detailing two book signings in New York, and she kept making up excuses to be in the city.

At the moment she was trying to figure out what to tell her mother, who still wasn't home.

Then her phone chimed, announcing a new message, and she almost dropped it when trying to turn on the screen. Yup, she was definitely acting crazy.

Miss you too. I will call later, if you want me to. Jess

She could feel herself smiling when she read the short message, and then she was typing.

I would like that. Have fun at the signing. Rory

And that's when she made up her mind and pressed speed dial. Once more she waited impatiently for the signals to go through.

"Lorelai speaking."

"Hey mom."

"Oh. Hey sweets. Are you bored at home? I am so sorry about this. And I have no idea when I can get away from here. Do you want to come over for a while? It won't be the same, and I will probably be running around like crazy, but you can if you want. We rarely got to spend any time this weekend, and then you'll have to leave tonight."

"Mom, about that," Rory cut in, unable to keep a smile off her face at her mother's ramble.

"Uh, oh. Why do I sense you're about to say something I won't like?"

"Because I am," Rory confirmed, and then quickly continued. "I'm actually leaving now. And before you say anything, I am really sorry about this, but it's just something I have to do."

"Oh. Ok."

She could hear the disappointment in Lorelai's voice, and felt a little bad about it, but it didn't change her mind.

"I really am sorry."

"I know, hon. Now, this sudden change of heart wouldn't by any chance have anything to do with a certain author?"

On her end, Rory sputtered. "How did you know that?"

"Well, for a while now, Luke has been mentioning that he would be in New York this weekend, doing some promotion for that book of his, and he might have slipped in something about a certain radio program that I know you listen to, and I may have, just accidentally of course, tuned in for a bit."

Rory could feel herself turning crimson, and was suddenly glad she hadn't gone over to the Inn to do this. "How much did you hear?" she asked hesitantly.

"Enough to know that my suspicions from the last couple of months weren't unfounded."

"Right," Rory groaned.

"Rory, I want you to know that whatever you decide to do, I will support you."

"Thank you, mom."

"Now, how long have this been on your mind, really?"

"Honestly, I don't know. Maybe it never stopped. But at least the last couple of months, since I read his book. I only consciously realized it today."

"Classic case of Gilmore denial."

"You could say that."

"Well then, go, have fun, be safe. And I expect details later."

"Thanks mom. And of course."

"Bye babe."

"Bye mom."

Rory ended the call with a smile, and then hastily started collecting her things. The next bus going south was leaving at noon, and if she hurried, she could make it.

She arrived fifteen minutes later, out of breath, and just in time. After paying the fare, she slumped down in a window seat, and closed her eyes, trying to catch her breath.

She was going to New York, to try and find Jess. This scenario somehow seemed both entirely new, and at the same time entirely familiar.

The bus was halfway to New Haven before she realized she was smiling.