I was so thrilled to be on TV, and so excited to find myself trading remarks with such a lovely and famous woman, that I lost any fears I might have had and just let fly. Never, I thought, had I been so brilliant, so spontaneous, so animated and witty. In fact, at one point about midway through the interview, I was absolutely stunned to see Jane's hand creep out under the cover of the desk and rest gently, but firmly, on my right thigh. She spread her fingers and squeezed me.
She wants me! Jane Pauley wants me! I could not believe it. My life had just changed completely.
Somehow, I was able to control myself enough to get through the rest of the interview, still speaking English and mostly making sense. But when it was over, I was surprised to see Jane get up from her chair, as if nothing had transpired between us, and casually mosey off to antoher part of the studio for her next setup.
Oh, I get it, I thought. She doesn't want her coworkers to know what's going on. She wants to keep this thing under wraps until we can can together again, in private, away from all these prying eyes.
I nodded and threw her an understanding smile as I left the studio - she looked slightly puzzled - and when I got home I called my mother to see how my first network television appearance had gone over in the Midwest.
"You were fine, Punky," she said, but without quite as much enthusiasm as I had hoped. "Very interesting."
"I hope so - the book went on sale last week." I waited for another compliment. None was forthcoming. I went fishing. "You know, Jane Pauley and I were really getting along," I said. "Did that come across?"
"Oh yes. You were clearly very excited."
"Yes. In fact, you were swiveling back and forth in your chair so much, it was a wonder she didn't get seasick sitting next to you."
That passage to me, was worth the price of the book. I still like "how to write" books and read them.