The House at Sand PinesChapter 9 In Search of a Career
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The House At Sand PinesChapter 13: Finding A New Career free porn video
When Charlotte and I arrived back at Sand Pines we found our home to be almost complete. There was still some furniture to acquire and a few wall hangings, but the main body of work was done. It had been five years in the making and as we surveyed the finished product, we both agreed that it had turned out very well. I wondered silently if Lew would have been happy with how it looked today.
"I love the fireplace," I said, holding her in my arms. "And the rug does just what you said it would. It brings everything together. The sectional was the right choice as well."
Charlotte had suggested a fabric sectional sofa in a soft sea green and it suited the room perfectly. A couple of large arm chairs, a round, dark cherry coffee table in the middle of the rug, and some matching end tables completed the room. The furniture was comfortable and well built, just as I had asked.
"I do believe you've fulfilled your contract," I chuckled, squeezing my hold on Charlotte.
"You've got a lifetime to pay up then," she said quietly.
Lying in bed on Saturday morning, Charlotte slept peacefully beside me. Just over two weeks from my final day at the Valley Clarion. I certainly wasn't worried about money, but I was worried about finding something to do. Something that would satisfy me and keep me occupied. Something that would allow me to stay in the Comox Valley, preferable in my newly finished home.
Charlotte's career was important, of course, but she knew which direction she wanted to go and was determined to make a success of herself. I had little doubt that she would achieve her goal. In the meantime, I couldn't allow myself to sit around and do nothing. There must be some kind of work that would allow me to keep my self-respect and stimulate me at the same time. But what that was had yet to be revealed.
The tax notice from the City of Comox had arrived two days earlier. They had appraised my property at $655,000 based on it being finished as it now was. With two acres of land and the high quality of work inside and out, I felt that wasn't too far from the market price it might fetch. Not that I had any intention of selling it.
My investments on the remainder of my lottery winnings continued to produce over $50,000 annually. A good safety net, I felt. The Blew By You was insured for $50,000, possibly high for its replacement cost, but I wanted to make sure it was covered. It was built in 1988 and it was a good thing it was a gift. I must have poured almost half its value into the refit.
That left "The Great Canadian Novel" figuratively gathering dust on my laptop. I read it over a couple of times before sitting back and thinking about it. It was about a third the way along and I was trying to be objective about it as a work of fiction that might appeal to a wide variety of readers. The more I thought, the more I felt I knew what I had to do. I pulled down the menu, hit "Select All", and with only a moment of hesitation, hit backspace. Just like that, it disappeared. Gone, not to be resurrected. There would be no change of heart, rescuing it in the recycle bin. The Great Canadian Novel was no more.
Which left the ongoing dilemma of what to do to occupy my time. Fortunately, a couple of days later, Charlotte provided a partial answer.
"Can I ask a favour, Nolan? Actually two favours. Western Canadian Homes wants to do an article on this house. Also, I'd like you to write the story of this house, and Lew, and how it all came about ... including you and me. Would you do that?"
"How did the magazine come to know about this house?" I asked, guessing at the answer.
"Uhhm, well, I sent them some pictures of it to see if they were interested," she said sheepishly. "It turns out they were. It's a very unusual home."
"Okay. What am I supposed to write? There's a lot of personal stuff that shouldn't go into that story. Stuff between Lew and me, you and me ... that kind of thing. I don't want to give up our privacy for the sake of a magazine article."
"I was thinking that the story of how the house came about and how you felt obligated to finish it when Lew died. You don't have to tell anyone that he gave it to you. But, I don't mind if you explain how we met ... at the home show, I mean."
I nodded. "Okay, I guess I can put something together. Who will I be sending it to?"
"Well ... they want to send a photographer and art director out to see the house in person. I guess you would go over the copy with the editor or art director."
"Did anyone say how many words they wanted?" This sounded like a very loosey-goosey proposition.
"Well, no, they didn't. Maybe you can write something up and they will let you know if it's too short or too long."
"Charlotte, I can see this is important to you. You will be prominently featured in this story because you had so much to do with its final appearance. But, if you don't mind, I'd like to talk to the art director or the editor and get some idea of the parameters of this article."
"Oh ... okay. Uhhm, here's the phone number of the editor. His name is Len Cunningham."
"Fine," I said, giving her a lopsided grin as I looked at her with a raised eyebrow.
"Mister Cunningham, I'm Nolan Hunter. My fiancée, Charlotte Pierce, suggested I call you about the feature you're interested in doing on our home. She proposed I should write something about the history of how it came to be and her involvement with it. Is that pretty much what you want, and if so, how much copy do you want or need?"
"Oh, thank you for following up, Mister Hunter. Yes, I understand you are a newspaper man and I'm sure those kinds of questions are the first things that come to mind. If you could give me about a thousand words, that would be a good start. I don't yet know just how we are going to present this story. It may, if the house is as unique as it looks from the photos, be our feature in the issue. If not, we may want to trim down the copy to fit a smaller presentation."
"That makes sense. I'll work up something at the size you suggest and send it along via email. When do you propose to come and see the house?"
"Next week, if that's convenient for you."
"Why don't we make it the week following. I'll be wrapping up the last edition of the local newspaper next week, so I'll be able to devote full time to your request."
"Excellent. That will work well for me too. There will just be the two of us, Ivan Ten Brink and myself. Ivan is our photographer."
"Very well, why don't we set it up for Tuesday of the following week? You can let me know when you expect to be here and I'll have something written to show you."
"Good. It's going to fit into my schedule quite well. I'll email you my itinerary and you can confirm that it meets your needs as well."
I hung up and turned to my fiancée.
"Okay, Charlotte. Len Cunningham and his photographer will be here a week from Tuesday. I want you here as well. You'll need to fill in some of the design details that I don't have."
"Oh, thank you, Darling," she smiled, hugging me. "This could be something really important for me. Just like the website."
"Well, I knew that's what was behind it all, so that doesn't come as a big surprise. By the way, speaking of websites, how is your new one coming?"
"I haven't heard from Terry Yashimura for almost two weeks," she said, looking somewhat alarmed. "I better phone him and see how it's coming. I'd certainly want it up and operating before the magazine article comes out."
"I finally got in touch with Terry, Honey. He's swamped with work and it's going to be a couple of weeks more before he will have something to show me. I asked him what the hold-up was and he said it was the copy to go with the graphics. He admitted it wasn't his strength and it takes him several tries to get something the customer is happy with."
"Huh. Just the copy?"
"Yes," she said, then looked at me closely. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
"Well, I don't read minds," I grinned, "but maybe we can at least help him with your website. Why don't we both talk to him? It may be worth our while to go over there and sit with him and speed up the process."
That earned me a big, happy smile. "That would be great. Anything to get me up on the Internet with a good site."
"We're not aiming for a good site, Sweetheart," I said. "We're aiming for a great site."
That earned me a passionate kiss and a firm hug.
A phone call to Terry confirmed we could come over on Friday morning after the last edition was published. We would have most of the day to work with him on Charlotte's website, trying to develop some copy on the spot. If we had to stay over the weekend, we could use Mom's place as needed. Terry sounded enthusiastic about my helping. He was getting behind and this would help a great deal.
We caught the second ferry out of Departure Bay on Friday morning and were in Terry's studio before ten-thirty.
"Let's go through the graphics with Charlotte and see what you've got so far," I suggested.
"Right. I'll put it on both monitors so we won't be crowded."
We watched as Terry went from the introductory screen through the various optional screens. He had set up a gallery to show various jobs that Charlotte had done and said it would be easy to add or subtract in the future. The site would be maintained on his server as it had plenty of capacity and he would be responsible for keeping it updated. I liked the way he had set this up and more importantly, Charlotte did as well.
"I can visualize having some copy to describe what is unique or important about each design," Charlotte said. "It could also give the viewer some idea of why that particular theme was chosen. Was it at the owner's request, or the inspiration of the designer?"
I was nodding. "That would certainly add to the value of the site. The viewers would get a better picture of what you were trying to create."
"Can you do it? Can you create some copy for my site?" she asked hopefully.
"I can but try, my dear," I smiled. "We'll have to do this together. I'm not the designer, just the hopeful wordsmith."
I got a nice big kiss from Charlotte, not the least bit embarrassed with Terry as a witness.
"Let's get started," I said. "Time is money. Right Terry?"
"You know it. I'm jammed with work and anything that takes some of that load off is welcome relief."
The germ of an idea that was originally planted when Charlotte asked for help was beginning to grow. Was this an opportunity for me? Well, we would see.
"Oh, Nolan, it's perfect. It's not too wordy and yet it covers all the important points. You're a genius!" she cried, hugging me.
"No kidding," Terry chimed in. "I couldn't have done that in a million years. Maybe we should talk about a working agreement, Nolan? Are you interested in something like that?"
"I could be, Terry. They won't all be as straightforward as this one. I had the source at hand to make sure I got all the key points right. Is there enough business to make it worth both our whiles?"
"If what I have in front of me and what I've had to turn away lately, I'd say I could keep you busy for the foreseeable future. Why don't we talk about it some more. I could show you some of the websites I've developed and you can look at them critically and see what could be improved."
"Okay, let's do that. I'll get a better idea of what's needed that way."
Two hours later, as the clock neared four pm, I leaned back from the monitor and looked at both Terry and Charlotte.
"Terry, you don't require me here to do this kind of work. I can do it from my home unless I need to meet with you or the customer. How would I get paid?"
"I'll give you one-third of my usual fee unless I have a particularly difficult or complex design with very little copy," Terry said after a pause. "Then I think twenty-five percent would be appropriate."
"That will take a big bite out of your income, won't it?" Charlotte suggested.
"No, I don't think so," Terry said fairly promptly. "I'll be producing quite a bit more since I'll only have to concentrate on the graphic phase. It takes up about a third of my time now, seldom more. Nolan's expertise is in getting words down in a clear and concise form, just as he did with the newspaper. So his time would be far less than mine for the same task. As well, he's better at it than me, so the end product is better as a result. No, I think I might be short-changing him, but only he can tell me that."
"Why don't we try it for a couple of weeks and see how it goes," I suggested. "It would certainly be something different for me. My only worry is contact with customers. I will need to know what they are thinking and what they're trying to achieve, just as you do. I imagine we can do that by phone or even Skype. So, let's give it a try."
"Great!" Terry said, extending his hand. "This could really work out well, Nolan. If what you've done for Charlotte's site is any indication, we could really have something going here. I'm almost at the stage of hiring another designer to handle all the opportunities that have been coming along. Not all of them are for new sites. Many of them are people who are dissatisfied with their current site. There are still a lot of amateurs out there passing themselves off as site designers."
"Well, a couple of weeks from now we'll have an idea of whether we can make this work or not. But I'm certainly willing to give it a try," I said as we shook hands.
We stayed overnight with my mom before catching a mid-morning ferry back to the island. Charlotte's website would be up and running next week and she was really excited about getting some new pictures of the Campbell River project off to Terry for inclusion in the gallery portion. My role was simply to caption the pictures and explain any unusual features she wanted to highlight. I was hoping this experiment with Terry would work out. It would give me something new and productive to do with my skills and fill the void the newspaper would leave.
We had Sunday open and when it dawned bright and sunny, I suggested we go for a sail. Charlotte jumped at the idea and we left the marina just after ten that morning, sailing down to Denman Island and back. There was a nice breeze to keep the sails full, and while it was the end of May, a cool breeze off the water kept us with our jackets on. I had plenty of time to study my fiancée as she lounged in the cockpit or stood at the helm. She was truly enjoying herself and that gave me a great deal of satisfaction. I considered myself very lucky to have found and won her heart.
It took me a while to get into a workable routine with the wording for the websites. Terry fed them to me one at a time and included the notes he had from each customer plus a customer contact number. Some of them were simple, while others were very technical and required some to-and-fro with them. We did this by email, looking for customer approval on written copy, not spoken word. After a couple of false starts, I worked out a method that appeared to do the job and satisfy both Terry and his customers. Some of the customers were quite impressed that Terry had someone to specialize in copy. We got a fair amount of positive feedback on that.
"Okay, Terry, what's the verdict?" I asked, Skyping him on Friday afternoon, exactly two weeks from our original meeting.
"The verdict is in. It's a go if you're satisfied, Nolan. Your first cheque will be somewhere around three thousand, give or take a dollar or so. Not bad for a trial effort, wouldn't you say? With that off my back, I got almost twice as much work done. I think this is going to work very well."
It was obvious that he was happy with my results.
"Okay, then let's continue with what we're doing. I'm just getting used to this, so if you're satisfied, then it's a go."
"Terrific! This is working out just as I'd hoped it would. I've contacted some of the people I had to turn down and was able to rescue about half of them. I also let them know that you were doing the copy for the sites, so they shouldn't be surprised if you contacted them. I still think I'm going to have to hire another developer. If that's the case, maybe I'll need another Nolan Hunter too."
"One step at a time, Terry, one step at a time. Let's make sure we have this going well before you move forward again. If it comes to needing another writer, I can probably find someone from my newspaper contacts. There are a lot of very good writers out there looking for work."
"I'll heed your advice, Nolan, but I'm really excited. This is coming together much quicker than I anticipated. Let's talk about this again in a month or so. We'll know then just what our capacity really is and we can make some decisions from that."
"Good plan. That should give us enough time to evaluate the results."
Sighing, I leaned back in my office chair as we signed off Skype. Was this my future? An ad copywriter? That's what it felt like. But websites were the way people were getting the word out about their businesses, and not all of them were useful or informative. Terry's strength was graphic and technical design, while mine was getting the words to sell the pictures. So far I seemed to be able to satisfy customers with my output with very little comeback for error or having missed something. Maybe this was my calling. I could do worse. I was working from home and making a reasonable income if the first couple of weeks were any indication.
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