Unknown Author of the Month

“Hey, Grace, congratulations! You're author of the month!” a friend called. 

“Huh? Where? When? How?” I asked in rapid-fire fashion, wondering where that news might have come from. It sounded formidable.

“You’re Power Book’s author of the month! You didn't know?!” she doubted. 

“No, I didn’t,” I replied. Power Books, my favorite bookstore, never called.

“Well, your prom picture is in all the branches,” she added, her voice singing with undisguised mirth.

Friends. They don’t mince words. She was referring to my photo in my first book six long years ago. In those days, I was a new and unrestrained student of Adobe Photoshop, experimenting on erasing lines and vanishing blemishes. Nobody has ever asked me for a new photo. And I don’t remember having any solo shot of me taken in the last… well, several years.

That same day, with pulse galloping, I brought my digicam to the Greenbelt branch. This historic honor needs to be properly recorded for the next generation, I told myself, thinking of my 45-day-old grandson, Adrian, in the US.

On the second floor, lo and behold, right there before me was a special gondola filled with my books and atop them was my—yes, prom picture! I rushed to customer service to ask permission to take shots of the display.

“Sorry, ma’am, no picture taking allowed,” both young salesgirls said in unison, looking at me with toothy smiles. (It's the story of my life—being turned away when the photo bug bites.)

What to do?

I looked for a mature, sensible saleslady who could give those two girls some motherly advice. “Miss,” I said in a voice reserved for my husband when my driver calls in sick. “Can I take a picture of me?” I cooed, pointing to my picture. “My name is Grace Chong.”

Her twin retinas tripled in size and exclaimed, “Wow, ma’am, yes! I’ll go and tell Customer Service!”

I followed her hurried strides to the two girls.

“Girls, look, this is ma’am Grace Chong, the author of the month! She wants to take pictures of her . . . picture.”

Two loud gasps. “Ma’am, the author of the month! Sorry, sorry, ma’am, we didn’t recognize you. You look older . . . (brief, self-reflective pauses) than your photo!”

Power Books has an excellent training program, I noted, chortling.

Dreaming to become a photographer par excellence, I clicked away. But at that hour, the bookstore suddenly teemed with the after-office crowd and all I could have of my prom photo and shelves are what you see here.

To my friends reading this, you missed your chance at raucous laughin’. Today, the last day of the month, they will take that photo down.