Accidental Phenomenon

I started keeping a diary when I was about ten as a way to keep myself entertained.  If there ever was an award for couples who should not have kids, it would have been my parents.  Writing in a diary meant I at least had one sounding board who wouldn’t give me grief.  I searched high and low for the perfect notebook to write in and saved all of my babysitting money to finally afford it.  I didn’t write anything spectacular in any of my journals so I was surprised when I kept getting phone calls and emails from reporters. 

They left vague messages about wanting to know my story better.  To get a few more details about my family and friends.  I stumbled through saying “No Comment” before turning off my phone and waking my computer.  I had vague ideas of what my family could have done.  After a few minutes of searching, I found exactly what I was looking for. They took my diary and published it as a book.  Published it as a work of fiction and not about their own private lives.  They had meant for the book to be released anonymously, but my name must have still been attached somewhere.  I wondered how and if the publicity and fame would change my life.  Now my secrets were all out in the open and I was technically a published author.  Maybe this was my chance to fly. 


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