Some Requirements For My Forthcoming Gaithersburg Book Festival Presentation

By Jennie Cottrell | Published May 3, 2016

by Jon Methven

Leather chair.
Pipe.
Candles. Plenty of candles.
Roll of duct tape.
A monocle.
Scale model of the solar system, except in the place of the sun will be the leather chair, where I will be sitting following my entrance. We’ll come back to this.
No folding chairs. Everyone will stand, which will prevent people from falling asleep during the presentation, and will also make it faster to evacuate the Edgar Allen Poe Pavilion, should it be on fire at any point in the presentation. We’ll come back to this.
One table, which I’ll angrily overturn halfway through the presentation.
Disco ball.
One folding chair. I should have mentioned I need a prop chair. We’ll come back to this.
Breakaway hole in the top of the pavilion. We’ll come back to this.
Gloves.
Goggles.
Fire retardant outfit.
Zip-line, starting at the VIP Lounge in City Hall and ending at the Edgar Allan Poe Pavilion, with a dogleg left around the Writers Center Workshop. I’ll zip through the festival and airdrop into the pavilion through the breakaway hole, landing in the leather chair.
Fire department. I will be on fire during the zip line entrance.
Charcoal lighter fluid.
A lighter.
A volunteer who knows how to use a lighter and won’t lose his or her nerve during go-time.
Film crew.
Insurance contract (for me) covered by the festival. Anyone wishing to attend the presentation should sign a waiver, releasing me from any liability. Obviously they can still sue the festival for allowing this nonsense.
Holographic projector projecting an image of me onto the folding chair. Once festival goers are standing and waiting for me to begin the presentation, they’ll be super surprised when the real me airdrops through the roof still smoldering.
Holograph technician.
Advertising guru. We can probably project the holograph into other pavilions, creating a buzz and stealing people from other presentations.
Velvet ropes.
Fire extinguishers.
A large piece of cardboard with the number ‘2’ painted on it. We’ll come back to this.
Stephen Hawking, who will debate me over the validity of space colonization, extraterrestrial life, and whether my novel properly addresses both.
Security detail to handle the media.
Security guard to guard the folding chair and leather chair. If festival goers walk in and see only two chairs, they might get the wrong idea and sit.
Trampoline. I should have mentioned the trampoline earlier. The velocity needed to dogleg left on a zip line would provide too much momentum to land in the leather chair, possibly hurtling the fireball me into the lawn. I’ll need to land on the trampoline, where volunteers will hose me down before I bounce safely through the breakaway roof.
Hose.
Olympic-Caliber trampoline gymnast to provide advice (only when requested).
Board games.
A backup roll of duct tape.
I know what you’re thinking – the trampoline seems a bit exorbitant, considering the insurance coverage. But think about the innocent children. There’s going to be a lot of cursing and furniture throwing, and the kids can occupy themselves with the trampoline once I’m through with it.
A dunk tank. Festival goers wishing to ask questions, or comment on the book, may do so while seated in the dunk tank.
Volunteers to right the table after I’ve overturned it. If the thrown table gets a big applause, I might overturn it later in the presentation.
A ring girl to walk around with the cardboard ‘2’ during intermission. Or ring guy – this is not a sexist presentation.
Stunt double, just in case. Preferably one of the other writers who can say something nice about me in case I’m late, or dead.
No one should cheer if Stephen Hawking belittles me during the presentation.
Bottle of water.