Insolitis

V

Twenty Years Later

****

Leann sat at her desk in her personal library. She had a contract with her publisher to have a rough draft of her next book by next month, and Leann was suffering from a severe case of writer’s block. As she usually does when she has writer’s block, Leann was doodling her characters.

                A shadow fell across the page. Leann looked up, but no one was there. There was, however, the shadow of a figure walking between the shelves. She stood up and walked slowly towards the shadow. It darted into the next row of shelves. As she walked closer, it went another row back. The shadow kept leading her farther and farther into her library until Leann found herself in the very last row. She rarely ever came into this row, since these shelves held her childhood stories. None of which were very good, and many were unfinished.

                Leann noticed a crumpled notebook about to fall out of the shelf. She walked over to it and pulled it out. Letting out a breath, Leann recognized a story to which she hadn’t given any thought for a long time. Opening the notebook, she pulled out a note she had completely forgotten about. Reading it for only the second time in her life, she realized now was the time.

Leann-

These past few days have been pretty interesting, huh? Probably more so for me than for you. But hey, you got to actually meet your character! And then he went and got himself killed. Yeah. If you’re reading this, I’m dead. And so is your story. You won’t be able to write any more about me or Insolitis for a while. It’ll feel just like writer’s block. I’m sorry about that. It really was a great story.

There was a group of people who, one day, found themselves in your story. They were named Kathy, Cynthia, Melvin, and Oliver. They didn’t know how they got there, or how to get out. But they started to learn more and more about Insolitis the story. And one day they found out about me. How I was different. I wasn’t supposed to have thoughts, because you wrote the story in third person. But yet, I did have thoughts. Kathy and the others found out about this and some other things that were happening that weren’t in the book you wrote.

However, I learned some things from the time I first met you to the time I met you earlier today. One thing I discovered is that they were wrong. You had written about those things. We were just reading the wrong book. Earlier I mentioned that you become a successful author. One day, you’re going to be organizing the books in your personal library and you’ll find one that you completely forgot about. Your notebook, where you kept the story of Insolitis.

 Although by the time you read this I will have been burned out of the book by Kathy and the others, there is a way to bring me back. When you are older and are a published author, rewrite Insolitis. Don’t copy it directly out of your notebook. Change a few things. Experiment.  But keep me exactly the same. You don’t want to be tipping past me off ahead of time. And write about a tenth floor that contains nothing but a small metal box. And in that box will be the original Insolitis story.

The Jay you’ve met is the Jay you will write about in your future. The story Jay lived is the story you will write in the future.

Some things will still be changed in the story, behind the pages. The story you’ll write won’t mention anything about a certain room on the eleventh floor full of pathways to and from your world. The story you’ll write won’t mention a fight between me and the others. The story you’ll write won’t mention anything about burning words, twisting words, changing words.

But they will all still exist. The Insolitis story will never be the same as how it’s written.

Characters are supposed to live and die within their story.

I am the main character of Insolitis, and I did neither.

-Jay

p.s. Thanks for the story. It was t

Leann carried the note back to her desk. She took out a clean piece of paper from one of her drawers and started writing. After five hours of consistent writing, Leann was finished with the rough draft.  She closed the notebook. A shadow fell across the desk. Leann looked up, and this time there was a source to the shadow.

“Hello Jay.” Leann smiled.