At Risk of Winning (The Max Masterson Series Book 1) by Mark E Becker Read Free Book Online Page A

over the fire, not bothering to smother them with condiments. Camping was a time to return to basics.
Continuing with their serious conversation, Minuteman took up where he had left off.
“Most people go their entire lives not knowing. You are different. You have greatness in you. I felt it from the time I first held you in my arms, and I feel it now.”
“Greatness? You mean I’ll be famous someday?” his face contorted slightly. he had no idea what his father was talking about, but he thought that if he focused hard enough and long enough, maybe the meaning of the words would pop into his mind. he wasn’t having much success, and after ten minutes he became distracted by an owl, which silently swooped into the clearing and snatched a field mouse with its claws not fifteen feet from where they sat.
Until the owl forced Max to return his mind to the present, Minuteman sat waiting patiently. The interruption gave him the opportunity to speak. “Max, you don’t have any idea what I mean, do you?”
“Not really.” he felt frightened, unsure of what he should say. “I always knew you had plans for me. All of the lessons, and the people you have introduced me to. We never really go on a vacation and do nothing . . .” he smiled at the thought, but was able to hold back the laughter. “I just assumed that someday it would all be clear to me, but that day never seemed to come.” he looked into the old man’s eyes for guidance, but found none. Instead, the senator rose to his feet and spoke in the voice he reserved for the Senate floor.
“The time has come.” he paused to scan Max’s eyes. Clearly, he didn’t want Max to assume what he was about to say was anything other than serious. Seemingly satisfied by Max’s countenance, he slipped a gold card into Max’s hand. “Take this.” It was heavy and warm and substantial. The gold was real, not a plastic stamped imitation. Deeply engraved in the surface was a list:
MAXIMS
    No speeches.
No fund-raising events.
No messages over two minutes long.
If you bore the listener, they can’t hear you.
Keep each message simple.
Every statement is a sound bite.
The message is available 24/7.
It is better to say nothing than to say something stupid. It is better to confess you don’t know than to lie about it. The message is more important than the image. The image is more important than the candidate. Don’t quote a statistic unless you can back it up with facts. Educate people before asking them to decide an issue. American interests must prevail over world interests. Never lie to promote the interests of the minority. Always present an idea in a positive way.
If you can’t commit to an idea, quit trying to sell it. The perception of reality is more important than reality. It’s not what you say. It’s how you say it.
    Max looked at the words and tried to absorb their meaning. “I guess I should say thank you, but I . . .” The senator held up his hand, commanding his son to listen. “You, my son, will be president of the United States someday, and these are the rules.”

u ChAPTER ThIRTEEN
    OK, boys and girls. Take your seats,” proclaimed Luke Postlewaite in a loud voice. “I need to give you the general concept of successful political efforts, and then we will discuss the campaigns of successful candidates through history.” The class was composed of twenty of the best and brightest sixteen-year-olds from the elite families in America who, by inheritance or guile, had developed the networking and name recognition to place their most photogenic offspring into the political pool. The payoff for these families was enormous. By getting their child elected, a family tapped directly into the power supply of capitalism: money and connections.
    “I will give it to you in a few words, and then we won’t talk about it until you understand how the process works. I don’t expect you to have an opinion, and I’m not interested in it anyway. That’s not my job. My job