Chapter 1 and 2 are below
You'll be writing Chapter 3
Sideline Ink Publishing will include your story in this book. You will retain the rights to your story forever. We will have the right to publish your story in our crowd sourced novel, which will feature seminal events from people all over the world. You will NOT be compensated other than you will receive credit for having written your chapter. Again, email me at sidelineinkpublishing@gmail.com for more information.
The World's Best Seller (a crowdsourced novel by Jay C. Rehak and others -maybe you)
Chapter 1
It was an outdoor market like any other outdoor market I had ever seen. Almost. This one happened to be in Aksarben, Nebraska. Yes, you read that right. Aksarben, Nebraska. Take a look at it again. Aksarben, Nebraska. Got it yet? I never would have gotten it, but as she was driving me to the hotel I was staying at, my Lyft driver explained to me that Aksarben, Nebraska, which is located near Omaha, is a community that is named for Nebraska spelled backwards.
Having gotten that bit of trivia out of the way, I'm here to tell you that the outdoor market in Aksarben, Nebraska looks, for the most part, like every other outdoor market you've ever seen, at least in the United States. I don't know for sure about other places.
The outdoor market in Aksarben, at least on the day I visited, included booth after booth of people selling fruits, vegetables, cheeses, chocolates, popcorn, handmade jewelry, tacos, CBD oil, self-published books, personalized keychains, opportunities to sign up for gutter replacements, theater tickets and bank giveaways.
I was not particularly impressed, but inasmuch as I had two hours to kill before attending a wedding of a distant cousin, I decided to see every inch of the market. I bought a keychain that said "Life begins with creation" and not much else. I signed up for a free gutter inspection, even though I lived in an apartment in Chicago (the sales lady looked bored so I decided to talk to her, and before I knew it, was getting the inspection. I didn't have the heart to tell her I didn't have a house, but I'm not sure she would have cared.) Anyway, when I got to the end of the booths, there was a woman playing a Chinese instrument called a gunzheng that was more or less a horizontal harp, laid out like a keyboard and plucked while standing behind it. The young woman who played it, played it for tips, and the sound emanating from the gunzheng was very mystical sounding, but also soothing. I dropped her two dollars and was about to head back to my hotel when I noticed the booth next to her, that I had somehow missed a moment before.
It was the booth that changed my life. Above the booth, in prominent colors that appeared to be hand written, were the words "World's Largest Publisher." Underneath the sign, sitting at the booth was a very old man, surrounded by books, who sat reading pieces of looseleaf paper. In front of him, on the table of the booth, was a very large jar 3/4 full of American pennies and British ha'penneys. I laughed when I reread the sign, but as I looked down at the old man, I realized that might come off as hurtful. I was bored with Aksarben, Nebraska, to be sure, but I didn't mean to be cruel to a local. If he was the self-proclaimed, "World's Largest Publisher," I was the "World's Greatest Human Being," I thought, but then I decided to leave it alone and go get ready for the wedding.
I probably would have made it to the wedding and things might have gone on as they had for the previous thirty-three years of my life, but for the fact that I accidentally locked eyes with the old man, who had looked up from what he had been reading just as I was taking my final glance at his booth.
Not wanting to be ignorant, I said to him, "So you're the 'World's Largest Publisher'? Out here in Aksarben?"
He slowly nodded. "Today Aksarben, tomorrow Chicago, the day after that Des Moines. Who knows, I travel a lot. Whatever suits my fancy," he said as if he had nothing to prove.
"Okay. What are you the 'World's Largest Publisher' of?" I asked.
"Seminal events," he said, then tapped the jar full of coins, adding, "A penny for your thoughts?"
"Seminal events? What are seminal events?" I asked, sort of knowing what they were, but sort of not.
"Seminal events, my friend, are the pivotal occurrences in a person's life that shape who they are and how they think. Seminal events are the key to understanding a person, and perhaps to understanding human beings as a whole. Usually, but not always, the seminal events of a childhood are the most interesting and defining of a person's life. Often, those events are painful; in fact, they usually are. They're also the most interesting to read about and most cathartic to tell. At least from my experience."
"I see," I said, not really seeing but wanting to leave.
"Anyway, a penny for your thoughts?"
"How's that?"
"I'll give you a penny to tell me a story of your childhood. A true story, told as honestly as you can recall it and I'll pay you for it." Again, he tapped his jar of pennies.
"Ugh, listen, I've got to get to a wedding, otherwise I might take you up on it." I said, not interested in extending the conversation.
"Won't take that long if you spend a minute or two thinking about the most impactful moment of your childhood," the old man persisted.
"Ugh, yeah. Like I said, I've got to be somewhere in an hour and I need to get dressed, you see,"
I said, but even as I said it, a half dozen painful memories of my childhood came rushing into my brain.
"No problem, my friend," the old man said. "But if you change your mind, I'll listen to your story, publish it, and even pay you for it."
"Yeah, well, my story's not for sale, and if your going rate is a penny a story, I'm not so sure it's worth my time to tell it to you."
The old guy smiled. "Of course, that's up to you. It's an opportunity, not an obligation." And he went back to reading the looseleaf pages in front of him.
I made the mistake of leaning over to see what he was reading and noticed that the handwriting seemed to be very young. In fact, upon closer inspection, I noticed that the words he was reading were printed. "Excuse me," I said, "but are you reading one of the stories someone submitted to you?" I asked.
"Yes," he said, with what appeared to be tears in his eyes. "This one was written by an 11 year old, and it's all about the day her parents told her they were breaking up."
My mind again flashed to a painful childhood memory. I nodded at the old man and then finally took a good look at the books that surrounded him. They were each bound similarly but were of different sizes. As I looked closer, I realized each one of them had the same title: The World's Best Seller.
"Sorry to bother you again, man," I said, 'but each one of your books is called World's Best Seller but they're all different sizes."
"Yes, they are," he said, and went back to his reading.
"Well, they can't all be The World's Best Seller," I said, "As a matter of fact, I doubt any of them are, no offense."
"None taken. For the record, you can name a book whatever you want, and I've chosen to name mine after each of the people I've met who have sold me their stories. So here's a penny, tell me yours."
And with that, he reached into his jar and handed me a penny.
I had no intention of telling him about a childhood trauma, and yet, the moment the coin went into the palm of my hand, I started telling him about a fight I had with my father when I was fifteen.
Chapter 2
The sad story of the fight I had with my dad when I was fifteen. Email me at sidelineinkpublishing@gmail.com if you want to read my sad story and/or if you want to submit a chapter of your own for our next book.
Chapter 3
Your turn. Write a story (3 to 5 pages typed or 750 -1500 words) that begins with you visiting the booth at an outdoor market. The market can be wherever in the world you are. Remember: my book seller travels all over. At the beginning of your story, you will be walking in the outdoor market and at the end of the market you will see the old man and his booth. You can talk to him as you like, but then, tell your childhood story. Remember: choose a moment in your childhood that impacts how you view the world. Pain, embarrassment and loss are often good sources of stories. Be as honest as you can be as your story is improved by believability. Also, remember to write your story in the past tense but put quotes in the present tense. This means use past tense words when describing events. For example, I walked up to the booth and shook my finger at him. I said to the old man, "I hate chocolate ever since I can remember."
Sideline Ink Publishing will include your story in our next novel. You will retain the rights to your story forever. We will have the right to publish your story in our crowd sourced novel, which will feature seminal events from people all over the world. You will NOT be compensated other than you will receive credit for having written your chapter. Again, email me at sidelineinkpublishing@gmail.com for more information.
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