On the rain soaked ancient battlefield where so many wars had been fought before the two armies stared at each other with the murderous intent to fight for their home. The Orc army crowded their end of the battlefield in a disorganized cluster waving their rusted and blood stained weapons and screaming at the elven army across the field. The elves stood stoic against the howls and taunts of the orcs, each elven soldier held their hand on the golden hilts of their blades waiting for their leader to give the command from his white steed that would end this long war. At last the elven commander unsheathed his long sword and with a mighty thrust pointed it towards the orcs. The elven soldiers with no hesitation drew their swords and charged at the orc army who in turn began almost running over each other to claim the prize of first blood. The battle that would decide the fate of the world was now at hand.
Wallace Statler woke up from this dream and instantly lunged for his notebook on the nightstand wanting to get every detail down exactly as he saw it. Satisfied with the notes he had taken Wallace excitedly hopped out of bed to greet the sun rising over the buildings of Chicago. After hurrying to get dressed and tripping a few times over his still not unpacked suitcase Wallace grabbed his notebook and wallet and proceeded out of his hotel room and to the elevators. Wallace was in a better mood than usual seeing how this was the first time Wallace was attending a convention, not as an attendee, but as an invited guest speaker. Wallace had found some success in being a writer with his fantasy series “The Knights of Keplon”.
While Wallace was able to make enough off his books to pay the bills, his books never generated much critical acclaim but instead grew a cult following of fans who did their best to promote his books to anyone they knew. Their time in forms and blogs eventually and paid off as a small convention called “ Gryphon Con”, that was being held in Chicago, asked Wallace to hold a Q and A for some of his fans. Wallace leaned back and forth on his heels watching the descending number on the elevator wish that it could go faster, when the number stopped on seven a man in a navy blue suit and holding a briefcase stepped on to the elevator giving Wallace nothing more than a nod of recognition. The empty silence that defines any elevator ride with strangers soon set in, but Wallace felt uncharacteristically confident to talk to this stranger, and with the advice from his therapist saying he should make more friends; Wallace attempted to chat with the man.
“Morning.” Wallace said affecting a friendly tone.
“Morning.” Replied the man flatly not looking up from his phone.
“Nice day, huh?”
“ So my names Wallace Statler, what’s yours?” Wallace asked in a final attempt at friendship. The man looked up from his phone of the first time.
“ Statler? This might be a shot in the dark but are you related to Alex Statler?”
Wallace let out a heavy sigh, Alex Statler, writer of “Pages from a Young man’s Diary” and father of Wallace Statler. Though people tended to care more about the former then the latter.
“Yes.” Wallace said to the elevator door.
The man instantly lit up. “ Oh my god, this is amazing, I have so many questions about your father’s book. Did Franklin choose to marry Margret or go to college? What was the importance of the tree frog?”
“Not really sure, Guess you’ll have to ask him yourself.”
“ Oh my god, is he in this hotel?”
“Oh darn, well in that case at least tell your father for me that his book changed my life. After reading it I felt like a new man and that I knew my place in the world.”
“ I’ll be sure to let him know.” The doors opened and the ding of the elevator marked Wallace’s quick exit into the lobby.
“ And ask him if he’s ever going to write a new book” Yelled the man still in the elevator.
Wallace only waved and upon exiting the hotel made a note of two things. One, never talk to strangers, and two, get a new therapist.
– Matthew Brosche