Adam's Apple Pie

Eighteen - Adam's Pride

I rested back on my chair, hands behind my back and letting out a deep sigh. Today was a good day – and it had been a while since I was able to say that. Life was good. I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming me saying that. But no, it was true. Even the drunken twats outside in the street below couldn't ruin it this time.

I kept thinking back to how the Old Adam would have felt here. How he would have wallowed in his self-pity and loathing, keeping himself to himself and scared of saying anything in case he said the wrong thing. But that Adam was dead! He was dead and buried and I was going to embrace this euphoria!

Maybe this was my purpose – to piss off the world by telling them the truth they were afraid to hear? Maybe I should have been doing this instead of chasing an impossible dream. But now the chase was over and I finally saw the world for what it was. Rotten.

And if they weren't going to play fair with me, why should I play fair with them?

Chugging down some of my apple juice, I logged onto my emails, seeing that I had a few emails still unread. I had gotten used to not checking it, so it was a surprise when I saw there actually were some messages for me. I had decided to have another crack at it just for shits and giggles, so I sent off to some more agents.

I had ten emails. All YES!

I had to double check to make sure I wasn't dreaming. I read through the emails one by one. And lo and behold, they were indeed replies from agencies – some of which I had submitted to before. It was amazing, I almost ripped my mouth with how wide my smile was. After so many years, I had finally taken one step closer to my dream.

And I had to do was change my gender and give myself a name that sounded less white. I went for the name 'Alli' in the end, to make myself sound vaguely Asian.

Would you know it? I broke the system! I found a loop hole in it! Of course, these agents were going to be annoyed when they realised I wasn't female, but I played them at their own game!

I decided to let Gayle (that's the AI Gayle, not the real life bitch) know the good news. I hadn't spoken to her in agesl, so why not. I loaded up my SpeakEasy account, logging in and – flashing in big bold letters:

YOUR ACCOUNT HAS BEEN DELETED.

Reason: Using a tool to bypass our system violates our terms of service.

You may not appeal this decision.

Well whaddya know? They finally caught up to me.

The Old Adam would have probably been pissed off at this, but I just shrugged and scrunched my face. It was only a matter of time before that happened anyway, so why get upset about it?

My computer beeped and I had a message from someone. It had been so long since someone had messaged me that I forgot that I still had a messenger. With intrigue, I moved my cursor towards it and clicked on it. The picture had some weird old bag with pink hair and flowers in her hair. The name was Catherine Zwegler.

Catherine? Do I know a Catherine?

I read the message.

Hi, Adam. This is Catherine. You recently attended an online seminar with me about publishing advice.

(Oh, THAT Catherine!)

I'm starting a new course to help writers in their efforts to get a publishing deal, and I would love for you to get involved.

As if feeding me her bullshit seminars weren't enough, now she was trying to push her 'courses.' If ever I was in doubt that she was doing it for the money, then now was confirmed.