Serendipity

My son had an appointment with the orthodontist this morning. It doesn't normally take very long to have the hardware adjusted, but today it took a bit longer than usual and I found myself getting antsy as I flipped through the random selection of available magazines. If I'd been thinking ahead, I would have brought along a book of my own. But I hadn't expected a long wait, and so I was heavy bored.

And then: I remembered that when my husband brought our kids to the dentist (who is also our orthodontist) a month ago, he'd come across a copy of National Geographic that featured an excellent article about fighting forest fires. Since wildland firefighting is central to the novel I'm just beginning, he'd come home excited to tell me about the article so I could run out and buy a copy of the magazine. (Later, my daughter told me she'd suggested absconding with the dentist's copy, but her father had pointed out that this would be wrong.)

As it turned out, that issue of the magazine was already off the newsstand; it was a month old and nowhere to be found. Except, as it happens, at the orthodontist's office. This morning, after I remembered that earlier conversation, I rummaged through the magazine basket and found National Geographic all the way at the bottom. Then I spent the second half of my son's appointment trying to internalize as much information as I could, since I didn't have any supplies for note-taking.

When it was time to check out, I asked the receptionist if it would be okay for me take the magazine and photocopy the article, then bring it back. The whole office staff knows I'm a writer--they have the photo and interview that appeared in our local newspaper last spring posted on the wall of their break room--so I explained that I was doing research for a new book.

"Oh, just take it," she said. "We have lots of others. I had no idea our famous author was doing research right there in the waiting room!"

Fame is relative, of course, but being famous at the dentist's office clearly has its perks.

I know I could have tracked down a back issue of the magazine online, but I wouldn't have even remembered to do that if it hadn't taken awhile to remove my son's bite blocks. Now he can chew with abandon, and I can get ready to write.