Page 73 of Joy to Noel
I give a brief explanation of the concept. “Productive brainstorms include ample time to diverge with every idea you could think of across the board, not eliminating anything right off the bat.” I motion my hands, moving them away from each other in the shape of a “V” to illustrate the statement. “Only after a broad exploration of possibilities do you converge and narrow in on the best and most achievable suggestions,” I add, pointing my hands inward to bring them back together.
“There are some tourists who will continue coming back every year for the same things out of a sense of tradition,” I say. “But there are also a lot of people who will check it off their bucket lists and not come back unless there’s a new feature to experience. You should slowly roll out one or two new features each year to keep people coming back if you really want this to be a long-term source of revenue for the town.”
Murmurs of discussion echo around the room, and I wonder if I was too direct when I’m still an outsider in this town. I just can’t help but point out the obvious flaw in their planning when I see it.
Madison looks up at me with a combination of pride and desire, which I meet with a half-smile as I sit back down.
“Liam, why don’t you come up here and lead us through one of these diverge brainstorm sessions,” Clara suggests, holding the dry erase marker in the air.
“Oh, no. I wasn’t trying to take over the brainstorm,” I say, holding my hands up. “I was just making a suggestion.”
One of my production line employees stands up in the front row and says, “Yeah, come up here, Mr. Park. You’ve done a great job of turningthings around at the factory. We’d be foolish not to put your skills to use on the town festival too.”
Sounds of affirmation build around the room, making my heart beat harder in my chest. Madison kicks off a slow clap that quickly catches on, and she cheers wildly when I finally stand up and make my way to the front of the room.
I might feel embarrassed if I wasn’t so busy trying to fight off the unfamiliar emotional response to their enthusiastic welcome. I’m not sure how to deal with the tangle of feelings rising up inside me, so I push all emotion to the side.
“Is it okay if I erase this?” I ask Clara, gesturing to the white board. She gives me the go ahead. “All right. Think big. Think outside the box. Think about any Christmas event you’ve ever encountered or any experience youwishyou could have. No idea is too big or too outrageous at this stage. What could make this the greatest Christmas festival on earth?”
Chapter thirty
Madison
September
The past two-and-a-half months have been a whirlwind in every sense of the word.
The town is excitedly planning for the biggest and best Christmas Fest ever. Liam and Beau have been overseeing the installation of the freeze-dried food production line while hitting all their goals on the original line. More and more people are milling around the town with the new jobs at the factory, resulting in new restaurants and retail stores opening. There’s even a new apartment complex going up on the edge of town, offering more housing options for the many people wanting to move to Noel.
It’s a shocking turnaround that Noel can’t keep up with the housing demand when, just a couple years ago, families were fleeing the small town.
Liam and I have continued spending every available second together, caught up in the whirlwind of our romance. We’ve stuck with all of our relationship rules—even Liam’s promise to keep talking to me. That doesn’t mean we haven’t spent plenty of time making out by our Christmas tree, though.
Unfortunately, the only thing thathasn’tbeen a whirlwind is Madison Joy Editorial. It’s been more of a gentle breeze. Occasional gusts of wind are tempered by weeks with zero wind whatsoever.
I’d been so hopeful that Elizabeth’s endorsement would open the floodgates to new clients knocking down my door and overflowing my schedule. Instead, I’ve started taking on more and more shifts at Becky’s just to cover my insurance and tuck a little into savings. I’dreallylike to not dip into my emergency savings. The only reason I’ve managed to squeak by financially is because I’m not paying rent on the house I share with Liam. But there’s an expiration date to the free room and board, and it’s looming ever closer.
As the first leaves drain of chlorophyll and fade from green to yellow, my confidence similarly drains.This was a pipe dream that was never going to work. Either I’m going to become a full-time barista, or I need to apply for jobs at some of the other print marketing agencies in KC. I made a mistake thinking I could make this work.
I haven’t really told Liam about the slow drip of business that MJE is generating. I’m doing everything I can possibly think of to generate more buzz and more clients, but I know that if I tell him, he’s just going to push me to do even more.
And I don’t really want to admit to him that I’m failing. I don’t want to be one of the failing businesses he steps in to save.
So I’m secretly spending more time working at Becky’s without him knowing. I’m certainly not admitting to my parents that my business venture is failing—they vocalized enough of their doubts over Fourth of July to last a full year. I was able to keep my sister, Caitlin, focused on my relationship with Liam enough to keep her from asking any career-related questions. Clara has become the sole confidante to my failed entrepreneurship venture, but I’m not even giving her the full picture of my self-doubt.
I’m currently reclining on the couch, reMarkable tablet in hand, proofreading the latest manuscript I received. It’s a novella, which is never my preferred form of book, but I’m taking anything I can get at this point. Hamlet has been contentedly sleeping under the Christmas tree, but he suddenly trots over and jumps onto my stomach.
Meow.
He settles in, curling his paws under him as he lies down on my chest, his face inches away from mine.
Meow.
“What? Am I that obviously pitiful?” I ask.
Meow.
I set the tablet down so I can scratch behind his ears, generating a thrumming purr.
