Howie was almost frightened to switch on his computer and check his email. He had checked family and friends screen name daily, but Backstreet had been so busy with concerts and interviews that he hadn’t found time to check his list email in three days. Thankfully, he had been wise enough to separate his lists and his personal messages into different accounts for security as well as his own sanity.
He logged into the first one to discover nearly a hundred messages waited and sighed heavily before he began clicking through the list. Within the first thirty messages, his eyes became heavy from lack of sleep and irritated from the glow of the computer screen. Already he had caught up with his favorite fan fictions, read about the exploits of one woman’s visit to Toronto to meet up with another from the list, made a mental note about a prayer request.
Howie had also read a few comments about the chapter that D.H. had posted. They were all very complimentary, pleading for more of the story. A couple even told him how much they missed him on the list, that they hoped he was okay. Funny, with the exception of his story, he didn’t remember ever being a real presence, only a lurker. It was the reason he loved this particular list though. The members seemed to genuinely care about each other and what happened in their lives. Backstreet was just something that they had in common. It was something that brought them to each other, not something that ruled their discussions or their lives.
It was because of the more personal nature of the list that he often felt like a voyeur. He was eavesdropping on conversations he wasn’t certain he should hear. Discussions about himself – or rather Howie D. More than once he found himself blushing due to the nature of some discussions and some of his nicknames. Other times he marveled at how in tune some of the members were with his own life – his thoughts and feelings. In exchange, he learned about life on the outside of the music business, but he often wondered if they would speak as liberally if they knew he was among them.
"Man, I sound like an episode of the X-files," he thought aloud. "The truth is out there." Howie chuckled at his corniness.
He glanced away from the computer screen for a moment. Time for a break. Reaching his arms high to stretch, he then stood, retrieved a bottled water from the mini-bar and returned to his seat. Taking a long swig from the bottle, he simultaneously opened a new message with the click of his mouse.
D.H. ~
Just wanted to tell you how much I really enjoy your fan fiction "Because of You". You write very well and seem very in tune with your characters, especially ‘Howie’. I am a fan of his and appreciate the way you depicted him as a human being. He is so underappreciated and deserves all the support he receives and more.
I am writing a fiction based upon the same idea that you are touching upon in your story. I would like to get your opinion on it. Would you mind if I sent it to you?
Thank you for sharing your story and please keep the chapters coming. You have me hooked. J
Cherise
Howie re-read the letter before replying. He scanned the remaining 20 or so emails before logging off and doing some work on his story. The inspiration for the next chapter had hit during soundcheck that afternoon and became a major distraction. He knew he needed to focus on the rehearsal but didn’t want to forget the ideas. He guessed it was time to invest in a pocket-sized notebook or microtape recorder. It was that or risk losing some of those precious plotlines.
He sighed wondering if other authors had similar problems. Lord knew he was gaining a new respect for those that wrote fiction for a living.
* * * * *
Cherise hated writer’s block and thankfully had avoided it with her current short story. Instead, she found herself composing furiously to avoid losing all the ideas she did have. She had little cliff notes written on post-its on her desk at work and stuck to her beside table at home. As usual, she was authoring two stories at once, but they were unalike enough to stop her from confusing the scrawls. "Always and Never the Same" was the easier of the two. The other, although unique in its plot, was currently at a standstill. She couldn’t decide exactly where the story should go.
She finished typing the last bit of chapter two before logging into her email account. She had used the previous weekend to scavenge the electronic stores and finally invested in an almost top-of-the-line G3 MacIntosh powerbook for home. The convenience made her wonder why she had waited so long to make the purchase. While she waited for her account to be accessed, she reached over and slipped an Enrique Iglesias cd into her stereo. His music always served to wind down the day.
"You’ve Got Mail," the computerized voice cut into the soothing piano intro of "Nunca Te Olividare". She smiled at the irony of the song. Forget? Like it was ever a doubt. If nothing else, she could always count on email from her mother, Monica and Angela and, of course, the lists. These days it was as if the old adage had changed. That in fact there were now three things in life you could depend on death, taxes and list serve email.
Cherise scrolled through the lists deleting and saving various messages before emptying her trash – watching the total number up in the corner dwindle until the last email. Seeing the return address, she realized it was from D.H., the author she had written to a few days before.
Cherise –
I was happy to hear that you are enjoying my story. It’s my first venture into this whole world of fan fiction and don’t have too much faith in my abilities.
I would be very interested in reading your story and I promise not to steal any ideas. J Just go ahead and send it to me at this address. I’m often busy but I promise that you’ll hear from me sooner or later.
D.H.
P.S. Here’s a sneak peak at the next chapter of "Because of You".
Cherise didn’t hesitate to send along the first two
chapters of her story along with some feedback on the
freshly downloaded and newly read chapters that D.H.
had sent before shutting down her account and heading
to bed.
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