Interview with a Starlet

I was quite surprised she was willing to sit down with me. She was on a publishing tour through my little town and needed a place to unwind after dealing with the public. I informed her publicist of a low key bar that served the best homemade whiskey and our meeting was set. I had a booth in the back that faced the door. I was ready for the starlet to arrive at any moment.

I had taken the liberty of ordering for us. Two "Bee's Knees" with some moonshine, instead of gin. Mine was sitting before me, half gone, as I lit my cigarette and waited. I was on my second of both when she walked in. She looked stunning. This dame had her hair, still, done up. A wide brimmed hat sat snugly on top. The hat was a dark blue with white silk streamers tied around it and flowing down the back. It also had jewels set in the band and crown.

The next thing I noticed were her eyes. They were a gorgeous blue that was surrounded by light blue makeup. Then there was a touch of mascara and eyeliner that made her piercing blue eyes stand out underneath her mid sized hat. She clearly applied an amount of powder, then came the rouge, which accentuated her nose, and then the last touch was red lipstick. It had a sheen to it that made her lips look wet.

I raised my hand, to get her attention, and she sauntered my way. She was draped in what could only be an expensive fur coat, a fine silk blue scarf floated around her neck and once she removed the heavy coat, a young looking assistant took it and folded it in her arms, her bright, but light blue dress caught the attention of everyone around us. I was shocked into silence while she took her seat in the booth. Once she cleared her throat I was brought back to reality and took my seat.

"I ordered you a Bee's knees with moonshine instead of gin. Your publicist informed me you preferred the stronger stuff." I informed her as I motioned for the bartender to serve us our drinks.

"After the day I have had, I need a stiff drink." The starlet replied with a smirk.

"I just want to start off by saying I love your work. "Finding Home" was mesmerizing. You connected to my soul with that one. Just like East O the Sun, West O the Moon. Is it easy for you to share something that seems to mean so much to you?" I asked, feeling like a child about to open presents.

"Before we get to that," Jeffery, the bartender, placed our drinks in front of us and the starlet downed every drop, "I am to understand this is just a puff piece. Is that true?"

"Sort of Mrs. Kalchik. I am going to be asking some easy questions, but, when I edit this later, I am going to tie in your work." I declared as I finally remembered to retrieve my pad and pen from my briefcase.

"Please, darling, call me Judey. And as for your question," Judey started with a sultry look, "I write what comes to me. I don't set out trying to connect. You can always tell when someone is trying too hard."

"How about we go with something simple," I replied as I put pen to paper, "Why do you write? Is it a need or does it just flow?"

"I write because I love to read," the starlet stated, "Writing is a way to have your ideas and experiences live forever. I like that idea and hope I can achieve that. I want someone reading my ideas hundreds of years from now.

"So you wish to take a seat next to the bard?" I asked without thinking.

"No, I don't seek praise, or recognition," She began before downing another round and smirking, "But who am I to say no, if it is thrust upon me?

I couldn't stifle the smirk as I asked. "How long have you been writing? The earliest piece of yours that I have read was "Waves". Was this wonderful poem your first? Or did you, perhaps, get your knack for imagery from something else?"

“What do you have to be thankful for?

Open your eyes and see.

Your heart, your home, your life and more.

So be thankful just like me,” She echoed a memory with a gleam in her eyes, "That is my earliest creative memory. It was a Thanksgiving poem I wrote around 8 years old … wow, I can't believe I remembered that."

"Even that little bit was fantastic," I almost squealed as she responded. I could not believe my luck, to be interviewing the incomparable Judey Kalchik, "You were a linguist at 8, and you have only grown since then. Take Come To See Me When I Die, the imagery was absolutely beautiful. Sad poem, yes, but great imagery."

"Stop trying to flatter me. You won't get past this booth, drugstore cowboy! Keep to the questions or I will show you some ankle," the beautiful woman smirked before downing another glass of moonshine!

"Right you are, I meant no offense. And I meant what I said," I blabbed before catching my composure, "Next question is a fun one. If you could interview any writer or author, who would it be?

"Well this is an easy one.. I could go with the bard, but I think that might be over done." She replied after thinking for a few seconds, "I have met a lot of authors over the 24 years I worked at a national bookstore chain. Baking a pie with Joyce Maynard over some light banter would be lovely. Baking some bread with Jennifer Finney Boylan would also be a treat. Both are brilliant, different, and I am hungry."

"I can have something brought over." I said as I motioned for the waitress.

"That would be wonderful. These people treat me like a doll. They never feed me," She paused as she looked over the menu that was just placed in front of her, "Oh my, I think I will go for the pizza. Do you want to split a large pepperoni? And I need some of those French fries. They look delicious," Judey said as she peered over to the table next to us, "Yes, and an order of fries. And another Bee's knees, please!" She laughed at the rhyme.

"While on the subject of food, do you have a favorite meal? Something, you know, for those that want to know what you eat, when not on a world tour." I asked as I noticed she was starting to feel the alcohol.

"I absolutely love a Pittsburgh birthday dinner! It is fried chicken and German potato salad. But it is now impossible to duplicate, so I will go with Seafood Alfredo. My husband and I call it "food of love". And then finish it with a delicious chocolate birthday cake."

"Well, you just crumbled some of our readers' dreams with that mention of a husband." I replied with an easy to see air of disappointment, "Let us continue with some of your favorites, shall we?"

Judey was clearly enjoying her pizza that was swiftly brought to the table. Her fries appeared seconds later. So did a moonshine injected Bee's Knees. At this point I lost count of what number this one was! I downed the rest of mine before it was replaced and started my next round of questions

"Do you prefer fish, or birds?" I asked while I finished writing her previous answer.

"Hmm, that is a strange question," Judey pondered out loud. "I prefer chicken. Roasted with lemon and just a touch of tarragon."

"Oh, I meant as a pet," I whispered to myself, I wasn't sure how, or if, I should correct the starlet, "we can move on to something else. Do you have a favorite word?"

"Okay." She said as she finished off another drink and stared at me.

We stared at each other for a few moments before I asked, "Okay, what?"

"I see that word ... everywhere. I use it myself, of course, but I usually use it when I am not … okay! You know what I mean, right? I use it to talk myself down," Judey started, I was thinking the alcohol took her down a random tangent before she ended with, "But, I guess, my favorite, to say, would have to be scrofulous. I taught my daughters to use it instead of offensive curses."

"I know the readers will be more interested in your word, but mine is floccinaucinihilipilification. Pretty hard to spell, and say," I laughed into my drink before asking, "Do you have a favorite book?"

"Mmm," Judey let out a moan as she finally got to her fries, "these fries are delicious! I am going to get more. What did you ask, again?"

"No problem. I asked if you have a favorite book." I reiterated.

"Yes, actually. It captivated me as a child and I had to buy a copy. It is actually a two-part book called “The Tree That Sat Down" and "The Stream That Stood Still”. I absolutely love them." Judey said with a gleam in her eye's.

"I will have to look into that," I said as I wrote the names down, "Now, I noticed you write a lot of poetry. Is that your preferred genre, or is poetry just what comes out more often?"

"I tend to write observations on everyday life. I don't think that is a genre and I wouldn't say that lends itself more to poetry, though. Extra Credit is a story about a memory, not a poem." She responded, "And I absolutely love to read John Connolly. He is a master of his craft. He writes suspense and mystery. He is just so … charming," that gleam had returned, " He has an adorable grin and used to drink like a fish!"

"Now onto the reason for this interview," I said, "Why should people write for Vocal?"

"I love this question. I have been on Vocal for a little while now, and the experience has been great," Judey seemed to perk up as she continued, "The writing challenges are a perfect way for a writer to get their words and message seen. They also have well-defined standards. They require a minimum word count, photos and even video before permitting the piece to be published. And the bonuses can make up for a few months of membership fees."

She briefly paused and then continued. "I am actually an administrator for The Vocal Creators Support Group, on Facebook, you know. And because of all of the support and advice, readily available, I have become a better writer."

"Well that is the bee's knees," I exclaimed before asking my next question. "Do you have a favorite story on Vocal?"

"If we are talking about my work, I would have to pick "Life: By the Book." She replied.

"We are down to our last question," I told her as I finished writing her last answer, "This is just a fun question I add to all of my interviews. Do you have a favorite season?"

"I absolutely love spring. It shows there is always life after the barren chills of winter." The starlet answered with a smile.

That was the last real question I asked. After that we had a nice, off the record, conversation. I found myself drawn in by her description of everyday things like it was one of her stories or poems. And because of me getting lost I failed to get to my editor in time for the next day's paper. It will be ran the following day and I hope to rave reviews. We said our pleasantries at the end and she disappeared into the night.