The Toaster (Stories) (Short Story‪)‬

Katie wanted to be a famous writer like her uncle. She'd never read any of his books because her dad kept them hidden in the basement under the gardening stuff on account of the sex parts. She knew what was in them, though. Boats and wars mostly, with boat sex and war sex to keep people reading. Everyone in the family talked about her uncle like he was too mysterious and talented to be understood and that's exactly how she wanted to be talked about. Maybe writing would do that for her. Up until her twelfth birthday party she'd planned on being a famous dancer but in a moment of self-reflection between pummelings from Kelly Cordell's pillow (which was essentially an archive of Cordell family nosebleeds) she realized that since she hadn't taken a dance lesson yet, the chances of her going pro were slim. Plus, writing was for the mysterious and talented and how else would she describe herself? But where to start? She didn't have any ideas for novels. She'd written poetry and was awestruck by how evocative her poems were, but while she was downstairs getting a bag of tortillas chips her poems morphed into the hokiest, most Hallmarky pieces of crud ever to smear themselves onto a notebook page. The only thing to do was to call her uncle and ask for advice. No, not call, write. She would write him a short letter because he was very busy and he'd appreciate that. A short, gorgeous letter which he'd read and then say to himself, "Boy, that Katie has potential. How do I make her famous?" Katie pulled out her mother's bird stationery and then decided to use plain white computer paper because real writers don't use paper with birds on it. She wrote all the obligatory "How are you"s and then lay back, spread her arms, and waited for a shimmering, sequined angel to float down to her ear and whisper just the right words in the right order. She lay like this for five minutes. Then she sat up and wrote: How would you suggest that I take my first steps onto the path to becoming a famous writer like yourself?