Remember way back in 2002 when I met Michael Crichton? Well, about two months ago, when I started reading The Plan by Stephen Cannell, I checked out his website and saw he had a book signing coming up, close to home. So I marked it on the calendar. Tonight was that night.

So I rolled up there with Stout and checked out his discussion session about the new book. About twenty people were there in the seats listening as he talked about how he made it in the business. Need credentials? He’s written more shows than I can count. Basically, he’s the fucing man. Anyway, after the discussion, he took one question (the guy asked a question that required a long ass answer, and Stephen warned us it would take a long time, and was real cool about it, then told it…) he started signing books. So I got my book signed, and I asked him, “Is there any way I can send you a book?” He asked what genre it was and whatnot, and said he typically only reads within his genre, and he reads slowly because of his condition (he’s dyslexic) but said yeah, send it on. He loves to read, and said he’ll get to it when he can.

Now I don’t have to tell you how awesome this is that he’s going to read my novel. Number one, he does have the clout to get me published if he likes it. Will he? Maybe, maybe not. But he could if he wanted. He owns five or six production companies. That, in and of itself is bad awesome. But just the fact that he told me to send it to him and that he’ll check it out, how cool is that awesomeness? Then he asked if I was still writing, if I had an agent, told me to write every day and to keep at it… He kept talking to me to the point where everyone behind me in line started getting a little impatient. F them other fools. He was talking to me. I bet if I would have stuck around until after the signing, he would have taken me out for a beer so we could chat about writing. Wicked awesome.

But yeah, I’m going to send him a book with a copy of the picture of me with him so he’ll remember me. I’ll let you know what comes of that awesomeness.