The Secret Admirer

The Secret Admirer ©

By

Michael Casey

I have been using FaceBook in an attempt to interest people in my writing. A bit of self-publicity, Americans are so much better at it than us here in England.

At one of my jobs I did indeed have a secret admirer, I only found out when one of the lads told me, just as I was leaving the company. It’s a strange experience, the girl in question was a very nice person, however not the kind of girl I’d want as an admirer.

Personality is strange,  some may like you whereas others can’t bear to be in the same room as you. I think I was perfect in my concierge days because I could entertain while people were waiting for their business partner. Then I’d disappear like morning Scot’s mist.

The best guests were Northerners, “Hello Michael, give us a kiss, show us the photos” one regular used to say and I’d show her the latest snaps of my infant daughters. Yes I was a dotting dad. The best professional compliment was “You’re as good as the Concierge at the Dorchester.”

So that’s getting on with guests at CPNEC, it was a great place to work at. So I had a few admirers, for my work, for my professionalism.

Imagine though somebody is watching you, now that’s a bit creepy. Can somebody be stalking me.  Imagine somebody has pictures of me on their wall. It may be with targets on so they can punch me   because they hate my writing. Or they are fed up of their girlfriend saying “he’s a lovely writer.”

Actually this happened once, Claire was laughing in her bedroom. Her dad asked from outside the door, “what’s so funny?” “Oh its Michael dad he’s making me laugh, he really tickles my fancy.” “What?” asks her shocked dad reaching for his baseball bat. “It’s Michael Casey from work.” “What?” asks her dad as he tightens his grip on the baseball bat. “I’m reading Michael’s book, The Butcher The Baker and The Undertaker” Dad is relieved and goes to bed.

So you could say Claire was an admirer, now she was a really nice girl, she admired my writing. Now she works at the big W.

In USA admirers will go to the barbers and pay for your hair from the barbers. So would my soft white dandruff hair be a relic. Yuck.

It must be nice to have fans who get what you are writing, who understand the insider jokes, who get the parallel lines of the story. Though I would not want Kathy Bates as a fan as in that film with James Caan. That kind of fan would be really scary.

Another fan would correct all your “mistakes” telling you/me how such and such should be spelt. How it wasn’t then but then, your dates are wrong. So what would I say.  “ITS FICTION” there are no facts to check, its fiction after all.

Imagine long long letters correcting you, then attacking you. I’d just reply “Go write your own book” Writing is a very personal thing, I write for myself and hope readers like my world view. It’s not compulsory to like the story or the style of writing. But it’s great when people like both.

Fans think they are friends, real friends, or family even. They can send presents to you. If anybody wants to send me a Cartier diamond bleu watch, feel free. Sadly you cannot send a house in the post…

So would it be nice to have millions of secret admirers? I’d love to have 1% of the readers Jeffery Archer has. Being recognised for a skill is a great thing, be it as a carpenter, or a plumber,  or a musician. When you achieve this all of your admirers come out of the shadows and buy your books, or recommend you as a plumber or a carpenter. Remember  Harrison Ford was a carpenter.