The September Gauntlet & That Time I Pretended Not to Know A Well Known Celebrity

Hello Magical Friends

I Survived!

I made it through the gauntlet of September and early October—a book release, multiple events, back to school, my mom's 95th birthday, two house parties, and then some. What was I thinking?

I'm happy to report my schedule for the next few weeks looks relatively tame. I'm looking forward to having time to read, craft, sleep, and dream before I'm tempted to start another cycle of overcommitting. The word "No" is sitting on the tip of my tongue. I hope it makes itself at home there.

So Very LA

I spent last weekend at the Enchanted Realms Fantasy Book Market in LA, and it was SO LA. From the actress/performer/musician belting out show tunes for six hours straight (the pipes on her!) to attendees in full theatrical LARPing regalia with "professional propsmaster" polish—there's something about a creative event in Los Angeles that hits different. Everyone's working on a deal, knows someone, worked on something.

I love it.

Having lived here twenty-something years, I've grown accustomed to this buzzy creative culture. I've learned not to dismiss anyone or anything—including myself. You truly never know when you might end up on IMDB. (Remind me to tell you about my producer cred in a future email.)

I kept an eye out for low-key celebs at this event, and though I didn't recognize any this time, it reminded me of a story from several years ago at my son's summer camp.

The Art of Making Space for Others

My kids have all attended the most magical camp on Catalina Island—in fact, it kicked off my fascination with this special place. During the pandemic, I became a certified CA Naturalist and Catalina Island Naturalist, and included the island in The Witches Catalogue of Wanderlust Essentials.

The camp's rustic, remote location has made it popular with celebrity families over the years. We'd try to act cool at the port during pickup and drop-off—like when we parked next to Steve Carell. Very LA.

But famous people were the farthest thing from my mind on that particular visiting day. I was thrilled to see my son after two weeks away from home. He was super excited to introduce me to his new "best friend,"  that he'd written to me about. The boys had even made a plan for our two families to sit and eat lunch together.  We'd be joined, I was told, by the kid's mom and her boyfriend that they lived with.  

While my son dragged us over to meet them he couldn't stop chattering away about archery, the ropes course, their cabin. The two boys really wanted to hang out when they got home too.

It was all so cute and normal that it took me a minute to register that the guy named Drew I was being introduced to was, in fact, Drew Carey.

The same Drew Carey my husband and I had religiously watched doing improv (I met my husband in a comedy improv troupe) and on various shows for decades.

I wasn't starstruck so much as tongue-tied. This day was supposed to be about the kids. I knew it. The other mom who was showering her son with affection knew it too.  I noticed Drew was glancing around warily. He ran a hand through his hair and removed his signature glasses. 

I had a decision to make: I could get all OMG YOU'RE DREW CAREY, or dust off my own improv chops and play dumb.

After a swift "follow my lead" elbow to my husband's ribs before he fully recognized who he was meeting, I stuck out my hand and did the sensible thing. I acted like we had absolutely no clue who Drew was.

"Nice to meet you, Drew. Where are you from? Ohio? Really? That's cool. What brings you to LA?"

I could tell it was the right call as his answers were just as humble and vague as my questions

We made it through the entire afternoon without dropping the charade. It was one of our most masterful "yes, and..." improvisational performances to date. Maybe he knew we knew. Maybe he was just acting too. 

I'll never know if Drew was grateful or chagrined at not being recognized, but I don't regret pretending not to know who he was. It kept the focus on the kids and their joy that visiting day, where it belonged. 

Here's the thing I've been thinking about since that LA event: so much of creative life is about knowing when to step forward and when to step back. When to take up space and when to make space for others.

After the gauntlet of September where I said yes to everything and often found myself at the center of a very exhausting universe, I'm happy to step back for a bit and let someone else take the spotlight. 

Character Cards are Coming!