'Miss Y/L/N' a faint voice brings me back to the room. My eyes pull back into focus and I lift my focus from the doccuments in front of me and let me scan the room. There's twelve people in front of me, most of which I don't know their name, yet all of them seem to know me. It's a feeling that i'm not yet used to, but one that comes with this job and one that helps me make people happy. So I suck it up.
'Yes, sorry. Where were we?' I reply as if I know what is even on the agenda for this meeting, nevermind not even knowing why I'm here. A balding man that looks like he's not slept in six years but has had his skin stappled back to hide it, tries to cover a sigh before he answers me.
'Your last book was, there's no better word for it, a sensation,' I roll my eyes and fight off the urge to cut him off, he notices but continues anway, 'and we are thrilled that it was a wrap on the series, the industry doesnt want more than three books per world anymore, and you found a way to wrap it up without the feeling of incompleteness. Well done. But that leaves us here, trying to figure out whats next. Everyone is waiting for the announcement of your next project.' I look at him and can't help but internally groan, I know this moment has been coming and yet here I am unprepared.
'Listen, the last writing period took a lot and I got it out ahead of schedule as you and my fans asked me to. That being said, I think it's time I take a ste-' I try to desperately rationalise before I get cut off.
'Let's be clear here. You are on contract to write us at least 3 more books. I can have legal remind you of that if it is needed. Now, we dont expect gold dust in a matter of days, y/n, but we need ideas and plans for our PR team to start working with. You made it clear you wanted a flexible content contract, that you wanted to write across genres and creative spaces, that you would write us more than our asking amount of manuscripts if we gave it to you. And we did. So, I'll ask you again to give us a run down of your next project, so we know what were dealing with here'. His voice is stern and you can tell that regardless of any proffesional curtousy, this man is sick of me.
I let a soft breath of air out and close my eyes, trying desperately to pull a moment to myself out of thin air. It doesn't come, and when I can hear some mans leg start tapping excesively, I decide enough is enough.
'Fine. Let's have a look shall we' I relent as I reach into my bag to grab out my very worn notebook. I somewhat slam it onto the table, reajust my glasses and pull my chair in before I begin.
'We do wish you would digitize that, it would make these meeting essentially obsolete, you could pitch you ideas into the shared file and we could get back to you with marketing and statistics almost ins-' he rambles on with a spark in his eye, only now its my turn to cut him off.
'No, this stays analog. The majority of these arent even fleshed enough to be called ideas. No sense building idea boards and prospective figures up for things that I'll never do anything with.' I cut the conversation of sharply. There is two things I'm sure about in life, that I'm irrefutably gay and that no one sees my notebooks. My words may no longer fully mine, but my ideas sure as hell are.
I flick through the pages of my notebook, eyes scanning across each page trying to filter out the things that I want to keep private, and I murmur a few ideas to myself. Before I start listing off ideas to the room.
'Okay small town romcom, coming of age of sorts. Based in Wales, antagonist from England, lots of explorations of culture' I reel off. It's an idea I've been playing with for a while, not one I'm particularly thrilled by, but I've got to give them something. A few of them start manically typing on their computers, pullling up charts and timelines and all sort of data that I don't really care for.
'Time to editorial stage?' one of the voices from the table asks. This is all clinical now, they're in the land of profit margins and capital success.
'About 7 months' I answer. I know if I rushed, it could be done in 5, but this isnt a I-need-to-get-these-words-onto-paper-before-I-burst type of story, so I will infact drag my feet. I hear a few grunts before someone reluctantly answers.
'That will take us around two years from now, to a December release, the market is flooded with christmas and holiday themed books, so we would loose around 20-25% sales, plus marketing gets tricky around the lead up to the holidays. Plus you've got the e-book discounts that dimminish sales but encourage kindle purchases, thats also a really period of announcing no projects and..' he continues on but I have already flipped a page, the idea is not worth me talking and arguing statistics with a guy that looks like his name is Dave and enjoys the drive home more than being home.
'Okay then moving on..' I barely mutter out and the keyboards halt in their typing, a few deleting the work thats already been done.
'Non-fic anthology style book of short piece, most being gender and sexuality pieces. Ranging in approach and-' before I finish again, the keyboards start frantically typing. It's as if every word I say corrisponds to 30 keyboard clicks per person, per second. Thats efficency in this business, something that I only started seeing after my second book took off in popularity. I think of continuing before I realise I may as well wait for the bad news one of these sould crushes are going to reveal to me, because in this industry, no idea is a good idea until it's made thousands.
'That would be a good concept to release pre-pride month to make it onto the book-tok and instagram lists so we can hit that sales increase, that would give you around a month to get to editing phase. How many pieces do you have at this time so we can speed up the process?' I suddenly have all eyes on me again and I can feel a bulge in my throat form and a insane pressure to gulp. I know I have less than 10, and would definitely need more close to 20 for the size of anthology that they would want. I can feel the heat rise up my cheeks and I realise no ammount of late nights will get me ready for then.
'Moving on' I say and drop my gaze down to my book again, trying to drown out the sighs and aggressive delete button presses. I flick through more pages, but my eyebroes furrow as I realise the further I go into this book, the more my style has varied. My longer chapter length pieces getting smaller and inbetween them, more doodles and little illistrations fill my page with single lines of stories accompaning them. It takes me by suprise how much I've fell into the habit of creating art-spreads like this instead of the more long form pieces that I'm used to.
Then it hits me.
A project that can give me both. A reset and a paycheck. 'I'm going to write a childrens book' I blurt out.
The keyboards still this time, hands hovering over them as if their brains started a race but the whistl to go hasnt gone yet. When I realise how silent the room has become, I lift my head and let my attention pull back to the people in it. A few people look confused, others terrified, and some just plain expressionless. It takes a moment, or two, before the man nearest me speaks.
'I- Um, excuse me Miss Y/L/N, but a childrens book? You, a author who has captivated the queer romance scene, took over almost every reader in the 18+ categories bookshelf, wants to write a children's book.? I- I know we said any genre, but really? Are you sure you are equiped to provide us with a book that, well— let's be frank here, is going to sell?' The man is now sweating and it's gathering on his forehead. I can't tell if it's due to the meeting length or me. It's most likely me, but let's pretend otherwise. For a moment, a split fraction of a second, I let his voice ring through my ears, slowly causing doubt till I shut it out.
That's not me anymore, this isn't me.
This meeting has gone on too long, them pushing me has gone on too long, and the time since I last felt confident in myself is too long.
So I take a breath, slam my eyes shut and slam my fist to the table.
'Yes. I'm going to write the next hungry-fucking-caterpillar'.
A/N ~ I am so excited to get back to writing, after deleting all of my previous stories on here, I'm thrilled to be finally starting a new one. I hope you guys like it and feel free to comment any suggestions/theories! I love seeing your reactions to go wild.
I'm not sure how often I'll post, but I'll try my best. IF YOU SEE ANY ERRORS IM SORRY, IM ANYTHING BUT A GRAMMAR/PROOF READER EXPERT.
disclaimer: I don't own the caterpillar pic lol
enjoy - :)
YOU ARE READING
Walking A Line
FanfictionYou were supposed to write a children's book. Nothing more. A few months and you could finally take a break, except your publisher doesn't want you to do it alone. Suddenly your quiet life turns into a whirlwind when you find yourself sat across fro...
