“No apology necessary, Linda. I read your suggestions without prejudice, but I believe my novels appeal to a huge reader base, proven by sales. Editing is one thing. Dictating my novel to me is another. My writing is not for everyone, nor did I intend it to be. It took a long time before I found an agent who was not adverse to pulp fiction. Cassie sold Diego’s Way to your boss, who was no more thrilled about my writing than you are. I know for a fact he feels differently now. This would be a good time to get a few ground rules established. You can make all the suggestions you want, but when most are ignored, move on. That way, we don’t have to be adversarial.”
“It’s not that easy, Nick. I take orders too,” Linda replied, glancing over at Cassie for sympathy, found none, and went on. “I have censors, legal experts, and an editor in chief to answer to. The suggestions I make are based on their opinions too.”
“First off, I write pulp fiction. It comes with a disclaimer that everything in my novel’s fictional universe is just that: fiction. You complaining as you have regarding violence and torture scenes in my new novel ‘Assassin’s Folly’ is a waste of your time. Stick with the typos, line edits, and phrasing suggestions. Don’t bother with the plot content, because I’ll publish under my own name if you or your bosses try making me change the way I write. I don’t argue with your company’s extravagant cut they take out of every book I write, so unless the market changes, and people stop clamoring for my Diego novels, you need to back off from trying to force the issue.”
Linda began to speak, but Cassie grasped her hand. “Forget it, girlfriend. You’re not going to change him. All you’ll accomplish is killing the goose laying the golden eggs. With Nick’s latest real life adventure making the headlines all across the country, I can make a deal with any publishing house on the planet to take over the Diego franchise. It would be best to put this content change suggestion to rest for all time here and now. We can then discuss the lucrative book tour we’ll be embarking on, starting tomorrow.”
Linda stared in grim acceptance at Cassie’s words, her features betraying the fact she had no bargaining chip to play. She took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “I know you’re right. I’m letting my personal preferences ride herd on the reality of the market. Can we arrange to meet and get ready at the Barnes and Noble over on Warren Street tomorrow at 10AM?”
“We’ll be there,” Nick answered. “I don’t think there will be much of a crowd with the weather like it is, but we can’t control that.”
“You’ll be surprised at New Yorkers, Nick,” Linda replied. “Can you stay at least a few hours?”
“I’ll stay until closing time if the interest is there. The book signings are what I’m here for, and I plan to enjoy every minute of it.”
Linda and Cassie both brightened at Nick’s statement.
“I can’t tell you how many famous authors act like they’re God’s gift to mankind,” Linda said. “It’s nice to know there’s still one author who understands without readers, there would be no sales. You wouldn’t believe how many think their novels are like casting pearls before the swine. It makes my job, and Cassie’s a hundred times more difficult. I want you to know I thought what you did at your daughter’s school was incredible, Nick. How is the head wound?”
“No lasting effects.” Nick brushed his fingers over the furrowed scar. “Like my partner Gus and wife Rachel say day after day – my head is made out of cement. Thanks. In regard to the signings, I don’t care what anyone else in the business does. We’re here to enjoy every aspect of this, including interacting with the readers on a large scale.”
“One thing I have to warn you about though – sometimes you’ll get hecklers who only attend to get noticed… in a bad way. We always have security on hand to deal with them. They’re not there for any reason other than to disrupt an event.”
“Like the ‘Book Killers’ on Amazon, huh?”
“Exactly, Nick,” Linda replied. “Most of these hecklers don’t read anything they’re intending to trash. Hecklers stay quiet until they get into your face. That’s why at a book signing, we require the reader have a book in hand to be signed.”
“Are you ready for something like this, Nick?” Cassie noted Nick’s grinning acceptance of what Linda explained with a sudden chilling feeling of dread. “It’s not too bad with security on hand.”
“No problem at all. I once spent three weeks crawling to a spot in the Afghan mountains overlooking a road where the Taliban leader in the area would be passing by. I think I can listen to a few people tell me my books suck.”
Nick enjoyed the amused response his story drew. Jean was studying him without laughter or a smile. Uh oh, Nick thought.
“What happened, Dad?” Jean’s question elicited a silence Nick hadn’t anticipated when he fired off what he thought was an entertaining assurance he would not be offended by hecklers.
“The usual in war, Jean,” Nick answered. “I’m here. The Taliban leader isn’t.”