The Twisted Biography of the author
ANTON VON STEFAN.
Part Twent-five - the manuscript is complete & he takes the final leap –
2016 found our author at his home on his rear sundeck and sitting next to his 'quiet' log under his sun umbrella on Wreck Beach. Every time I spotted him, he was busy working on parts of his ghostly tales. Papers went back and forth to his proofreader who seemed to be either in Scotland or somewhere in Canada. As I am not supposed to open up the mail, I was somewhat in the dark, but I noted packages of printed matter arriving from overseas as well as from Canada.
In early August, the manuscript was complete, and our author made a single phone call (yes, I have a tracer on his personal land line—I mean, who still has a land line?) to a publisher, Granville Island Publishing. Shortly thereafter, Anton Von Stefan made several trips into Vancouver where he visited Granville Island.
As the summer waned, less time was spent along the shore and the cool waters of the Georgia Strait, and he once more left to spend the September long weekend up at Blue Lake in B.C.’s Fraser Canyon. Yet, I knew that he had signed a contract with Granville Island Publishing, and I did not see too much work directed to his writing. That, however, was to be expected.
Fall arrived on its usual day, the leaves fell to the ground, and in the first week of December it began to snow. For anyone ever living in Vancouver and the region between the Pacific Ocean and Hope, it was a horrendous depth of snow that came down within 24 to 48 hours. Yet, despite the chaos, I had to follow as he walked almost one Kilometer from his home to the main road where traffic was at a standstill. With the blizzard swirling all around, I was able to come within a meter without being noticed. We both boarded the bus which was more than 40 minutes late and the 15 minute ride to the Sky Train station took over 1 hour and 25 minutes. No one in the lower mainland knows how to drive in the snow—Vancouverites cannot really call themselves Canadians—eh! Chaos is was, pure and simple!
By the time we arrived at the station, the author had met everyone on the bus—he is not known to be shy when in a crowd—and he told me there were some last minute ‘glitches’ with the final copy. Despite the cold and the snow, he had to meet with the publisher that very day—I knew he was crazy!
I was puzzled that he was still in Canada—he had booked a flight out to Europe for November 28th but cancelled it and booked himself out on December 9th (that little trick cost me dearly as I had to cancel and re-book at great expense as well). I had also ferreted out parts of the contract, and the book was scheduled to go to print early to late October. Copies were to be out in time for Christmas. This ‘glitch’ was the answer. It had to be perfect or it would not go to press.
Pretending to have other things to do in the snowed-in city, I left him to catch a Dunbar Bus at 10thAvenue. Yet, as the snow was already 15 to 20 centimeters deep, I walked up to 16th before the bus arrived and easily shadowed the transit vehicle. Traffic was moving at about 2 miles an hour, so I continuously had to wait for the bus to catch up before ‘shadowing’ him once more. I knew he could not hope to see me as the windows were frozen on the outside and covered in dampness on the inside. He did, however, spend more than 3 hours at his publisher before venturing out into the winter storm once more.
Before departing for Vienna, his vehicle made several detours: one at a private residence in Delta, and he stopped at the old Airport Inn in Richmond. From the staff, I found out some sort of letter or last minute pick-up had been arraigned. As they were rather tight lipped, I took it to mean the author had generously tipped the employees. He was up to his usual shenanigans. I could hardly let him out of my sight. Eventually, he boarded the flight but not before his publisher personally met him at the airport with another package—very strange as this is the author’s first publication.
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