This is the third part in a series, so if you have not already done so, you might want to read Part I and Part II before continuing.
2015
“Have you decided on a title yet?” Devon asked as they sat down with their coffee.
“I’m thinking Shadow,” said Chandra. “It’s simple and easy to remember, but I think it’s also a good representation of the story I’m trying to tell. It’s a bit mysterious, too, don’t you think?”
“Yes. It’s not a mystery though, is it?”
“No. It’s a dystopian, sci-fi, action story.”
Devon grunted. “That’s a mouthful.”
Chandra laughed. “Yeah, but the title is catchy. That’s all that matters. What about you? Do you see a title for your masterpiece yet?”
“I’ve been thinking something like Humanity in an Inhuman Age.”
Chandra tried to suppress a giggle. “Try saying that five times fast.”
“I’m not trying to write something that would be sold in an airport.”
“You’re writing literature.” Chandra deepened her voice in a tone of mock seriousness.
“Exactly.” Chandra couldn’t tell if he had missed the mocking note in her voice, or if he was deliberately ignoring it.
“And my book isn’t literature.”
“It’s not serious literature, no.”
Chandra thought of all the comebacks she could use against him before deciding it wasn’t worth it. “So how is Humanity in an Inhuman Age coming along?”
“Very well, actually. It just so happens that I have found a publisher.”
Chandra’s eyebrows went up as she smiled. “Really?”
Devon nodded, his eyes downcast in an attempt at humility. “Yes, I may not have managed to acquire the advance you have, but it’s something.”
“Congratulations.” She tipped her coffee cup towards his and they saluted his success. “If they’ve signed you, I take it you have an outline all worked out?”
Devon’s face contorted into a mass of wrinkles. “Oh, no! I don’t do outlines. They’re so constricting. I do have a definite idea of where I’m going with the story and how I’m going to get there, though.”
“Great! Now it’s just a matter of putting pen to paper, so to speak.”
“Yes, I’ve been working on my typewriter, actually.”
Chandra’s cup hovered at her lips as she froze. “They take hardcopy submissions?”
“For the first ten pages, yes. They’ll need a digital copy of the final product, but for that I can always scan what I’ve written and send it to them. The typewriter just makes me so much more productive. I helps me feel connected to my writing when I use it, you know? Computers are so sterile and impersonal.”
“Do you even own a computer?”
“Of course I own a computer!”
Chandra held up her hands. “Sorry. It’s just the way you said it made it sound like computers are useless.”
“Of course they’re not useless. I just don’t like writing on one.”
“All right. So you’re not putting pen to paper, you’re putting type bar to paper.”
“Yes. What about you? Do you outlines?”
“Absolutely. I don’t know how I would keep track of all my characters and conspiracies without it.”
Devon smiled condescendingly at her and Chandra decided they had shared enough for one month. “Well, I have to get going. That novel’s not going to write itself, you know, but this was a good talk. We’ll have to do it again next month.”
“Certainly.” Devon raised his cup to salute her as she left, then took out his battered paperback copy of War and Peace and began reading.
To be continued …