“I am afraid we cannot publish your material,” said the editor in his usual monotone. The hopeful author's jaw clenched but his almost jovial expression remained. Mustering as much dignity as was possible in the circumstances he looked the editor in the eye. “Thank you for your consideration,” he said still smiling.
He opened the door and disappeared from the editors view. As soon as his footsteps had faded into the distance the editor let out a regretful sigh. This happened too often, he thought. Most of them entered with ridiculous smiles plastered on their faces. Unsurprisingly almost all of them left with their expressions considerably reversed.
This one had been different though. His tight smile and rigid posture told the editor that he had not been the first to reject the authors work. His eyes radiated none of the warmth his smile had and the editor had felt guilty turning down the book.
When he had finished the author had maintained his facade but the editor could feel he had been anticipating failure from the beginning. “Next!” the editor pushed the thoughts out of his head as the next writer entered.
The author stumbled into the lift. On his way down the numbers on the lifts display blurred together through his tears. Mercifully no one else entered.
The ride home was a blur. Usually he experienced a quaint thrill when behind a steering wheel but it failed to surface. He drove almost mechanically his mind occupied with only one thought. Why?
The nagging question persisted as he entered his flat. The shoe rack and coat hanger stayed empty handed. His coat and shoes were left scattered on the floor. Part of him squirmed at the mess but he felt too drained to care.
He slumped in a chair and stared blankly at his ever dwindling list. Puffin and Penguin had been the first to reject him. He had sunk so low as to schedule a meeting with today's publisher only to be rejected again.
Maybe I'm wrong, he thought. On a whim he picked up his five hundred page manuscript and flicked through it. Obviously not my best work but surely not that bad? he asked himself.
Gazing at the hefty piece his vision began to swim and he suddenly felt something besides the hopelessness, anger. With a strangled sob he hurled it away.
It landed on the balcony and as he stooped to pick it up he looked over the railing.The alley below him seemed an age away. In normal circumstances he would have gagged at the very idea of what he was about to do. But now, with his mind numbed, his vision swimming and his reasoning deserting him it seemed like a very good idea.
He slowly inched forwards...
