A few weeks ago I submitted an entry for a writing contest. I thought I would share the story here since I haven’t been doing much other writing lately beyond my script stuff. Even though I have plenty of ideas for fictional stories, I don’t often write any. They had a very specific set of criteria for the story so I figured I’d give it a shot. If you’re curious, go ahead and read it.
Toss of Providence
With the door slamming in his face, Sam finally hit rock bottom. He’d lost his job, and his family was struggling, and now his last chance at redemption seemed to be behind him. Sam had been on a run of bad luck but had hoped this job interview was going to be the one to get him back on track. Instead, he got in his car and drove off, feeling defeated once again.
Sam is a middle-aged man in his 40s who, up until now, had been living a pretty successful life. Working in software sales, he’d made quite a name for himself. Always the deal closer, Sam had become used to things going his way. His friends and family enjoyed his smile and outgoing demeanor that somehow had a calming effect on those around him. Sam had it all. From the beautiful home to an amazing wife and family, the outside world saw his life as picture-perfect.
But the truth was, Sam was miserable. Despite what everyone else thought, he was hurting. The pressure to always be the best and always be on top was taking a toll on Sam’s mental health. He had begun to lash out at people for no apparent reason. He’d lock himself up in his office and refuse to speak to anyone for hours. He felt like he was suffocating under the collective weight of everyone’s expectations.
Sitting in his car, he stared straight out into the street, thinking about what to do. Turning towards the passenger seat, he spots his little black book. His mind begins to wander as he starts to remember where it came from.
It had been ages ago. Coming home from work early one afternoon, his daughter could tell he was upset. Sitting on the couch, Sam had his hands covering his face. Almost in tears, he heard his little girl come over and sit down beside him.
“What’s the matter, daddy,” she asks.
Sam does his best to regain some composure.
“Everything’s OK, Julie. Dad just had a tough day”, he replied as he put his arm around her.
“Do you want to talk about it? I’m a pretty good listener”, she said with a smile.
Sam took a deep breath as he stared at his little girl. “That’s really sweet. But it’s kind of a grown-up thing. And I’m not really up to doing much talking. Thank you though.”, Sam told his daughter.
“Wait. I have an idea”, Julie said as she got up from the couch.
Despite feeling pretty miserable, Sam did find himself feeling pride in how his daughter showed so much love and compassion without even knowing what he was dealing with.
“Here. Take this.” as Julie handed Sam a little black book.
“What is it?” he asked her.
“It’s supposed to be a journal, but I already have one. This has been sitting on my desk, so you can have it.”
Sam took the book from her and stared at it. He had never been someone to write down anything about his life.
“Sometimes it helps to just write down whatever you’re feeling.”, Julie said with a smile.
“How did you get to be so smart,” Sam asked with a grin on his face.
“Well, I am your daughter, aren’t I?” she quipped.
Sam smiled, gave his girl a hug, and sent her off to her room.
“I guess it can’t hurt,” he said to himself as he picked the book up and started writing in it.
Sam was quickly pulled out of his flashback and brought back to the present by someone who had accidentally honked their horn.
Sitting in his car, Sam was angry. Filled with rage, he knew he couldn’t sit in the car anymore, so he grabbed his jacket, the black book and got out.
He’d parked his car near the 10th street bridge, where he would occasionally go for a walk to clear his head. The bridge went over a large section of trail from a nearby park. Joggers and hikers could often be seen from the bridge, despite how far up it was. Sam rested his arms on the edge of the bridge as he stared out towards the river and trees. He was lost.
Opening up his journal, he flipped through various pages reading many of the passages he’d written over the years. Writing in his journal had been an outlet he’d now used for several years. But at the end of the day, he found himself still without a job and no means to support his family. His wife had been working extra hours to help out at home, but things were getting harder by the day.
For a moment, Sam pondered whether it made more sense to jump off the bridge and just end his life. It felt like he was at the bottom of a well, looking up, with no ladder or rope to escape from. As he looked at his journal, he became infuriated by the amount of discontent and frustration he saw on the pages. Angered by what he was reading, he took the book and tossed it over the bridge. He watched as it flew through the air and eventually landed near the riverbank by a tree.
“I’m done.”, he said as he started walking back to his car. As he drove home, Sam was filled with contempt for his life. He just wanted to find answers.
Weeks passed by. Although Sam was still feeling pretty depressed, he continued to try and find a new sales position. A few bites here and there, but no offers appeared. Just as Sam was about to put his feet up, he heard the doorbell ring.
“Hi there.”, he said as he opened the door.
“Yes, I’m looking for Julie Kampbell.”, the man at the door asked.
“Julie is my daughter. Can I help you?” Sam asked.
“Oh. That explains a lot”, the man said with a sense of relief in his tone.
“Excuse me. What do you mean?” Sam asked.
“Oh. I’m so sorry. My name is Jack McKinney. I was out for a walk the other night, and I found this.”, he answered.
Jack pulls out a little black book from his pocket. Sam immediately recognizes it as his journal.
“I didn’t know what it was, so I started going through it. There’s some real heartfelt writing in this. But when I saw the name and contact info on the first page, I was confused. It looked like a child’s handwriting, but the pages were definitely written by an adult. Is this your journal?” Jack asked.
“Yes, and I’d appreciate it if you can give it back. I meant to throw it out”, Jack said, feeling a bit embarrassed by the whole thing.
“Nononono. You can’t throw this out. This is a goldmine. Do you have any idea what you have here?” he asked.
Jack extended his arm and tried to swipe the book from Jack’s hands. “Give that back to me. It’s personal.”, Sam said, becoming angrier.
“OK, OK. Look. I get it. There’s a lot of personal stuff in here. Please. Just let me explain. I promise you I have the best of intentions. Can I come in?”, Jack asked seemingly anxious.
Sam motioned for Jack to come in. They both sat down at the kitchen table, and Jack began to explain what he was talking about.
“I understand this is a journal, so I know there’s a lot of personal details here. Cards on the table, I read all of it. I mean, I found it outside and had no idea what it was. But I couldn’t stop reading. Your life, your feelings, what you have been dealing with. There’s so much here. Have you ever considered becoming a writer?” Jack asked.
Shocked by the question, Sam stood up.
“Uhm, no. I’ve been doing sales my whole life. I only started writing in that because I was trying to vent. I’m not a writer.”, he said, exasperated by the suggestion.
Jack shook his head.
“Look, I’m going to level with you. I took your journal to my office and had some of my editors look at it. With just a little bit of tweaking here and there, we could turn this into a bestseller. If what’s in that book is any kind of indication of what you can do, I think we could be looking at a huge opportunity for both of us.”, Jack explained.
“Really? But it’s just a journal”, Sam said, shaking his head.
“Sam, it’s not a journal. It’s an emotional journey that you’ve been experiencing. Reading this, I felt like I got to know you so well. I kept rooting for you to find your new job. When the end came, and there was no resolution, it was terrible. Like watching the best movie you have ever seen, but have it end 25 minutes too early”, he said.
“Wow. Really?” Sam exclaimed.
Pacing back and forth around his kitchen, Sam contemplated what this could mean. He’d been in sales for his whole life and had never considered the idea of being a writer. Yet despite his reservations, the truth was, he wasn’t having much luck finding a new job.
“So if I did this, what am I looking at money-wise?” Sam asked.
“Fair question. Our company would put up a small advance in typical situations, and then once you sell enough books to pay that off, we’d pay you a small commission per sale.
“Your situation is different. I have been in this business a long time, and I can tell you I know a good story when I see it. I would be willing to put up a pretty large advance for your story, then pay a 15% commission on sales after that.”, Jack explained.
“How much of an advance,” Sam asks?
Jack reaches into his pocket and pulls out a check. He faces it towards Sam, holding it in both hands. It’s made out to Sam for a total of $20,000.
“Twenty grand? You’ll give me $20,000 for an advance on a book based on my journal”, Sam said while trying to regain his composure.
“It’s a done deal. All you have to do is come with me to the office, and we can sign the paperwork. We can also work out the details on any new projects you may want to work on.”, Jack explained.
Sam took a moment to ponder what this meant. A career in sales had been his life, but nothing was moving there. With no opportunities in the pipe, what did he have to lose? The two shook hands, and a deal was made.
Weeks after, Sam was at Jack’s office working out some details for a couple of new projects. He never thought he’d switch from sales to writing in the middle of his life, but here he was. With his most considerable debts paid off by the advance, and the backing of his new publisher, Sam’s life was finally taking the turn he needed the most.
“Jack, I just want to say thank you for everything you’ve done. I do have one question, though.”, Sam started.
“Sure. What is it?” Jack replied.
“Why me? I mean, you must get hundreds of submissions and ideas all the time. Why me?” Sam asked.
“This might sound crazy, but I believe that the universe somehow finds a way to make things work out the way they are supposed to. I haven’t walked that trail in years. I usually make the loop around my home. I just felt compelled to walk that trail that night for some reason. I think the universe steered me there because we both needed it. Now look where we are?” he said with a smile.
Sam grinned, and the two started their work on Sam’s next big project.
