Lance screamed into his pillow once again, feeling overwhelmingly frustrated. He had been rejected by yet another publisher. Why the hell did he keep doing this to himself? At this rate, he would never get published in this lifetime no matter how hard he tried.
Lance honestly felt like crying, he felt like he was a total and complete failure after looking at yet another rejection letter. Just as tears began to drip down his tan cheeks he heard the doorbell ring. Prompting Lance to slowly get out of his bed to go see who was at his door.
However, when he got to his door there was nobody there. He looked down the hallway left and right and saw nobody. 'That's weird...' After a few seconds he shrugged it off and looked at the floor and saw a package.
Lance picked up the package to see who it was from.
To Lance
From Mom
Lance smiled his mom usually liked to send him books and things to him in the mail to encourage him which it always managed to do, even when he was down in the dumps. So without a second thought, he took the book into his apartment and opened it.
What was inside stole his breath away, inside of the box was a beautiful leatherbound notebook. It was somewhat plane but if you looked close enough you could see all the little details, of the animal hide that it had been taken from. It seemed to be quite old with the pages looking aged but thankfully not brittle, it has a leather tie to keep it shut from the world when traveling, and make it so the pages were less likely to be damaged. It was plain but in Lance's eyes, it was beautiful.
'Thank you, Mom!' Lance says examining the notebook further.
It looked like it was an antique and when he looked inside his suspicions were confirmed. There was at least fifty pages of the large notebook filled with beautiful old cursive writing that you could remarkably still read. Lance began to read one of the things written inside.
The blooming flower on the hill
Is where you lay resting
My Love why do you stay resting on that hilltop
So far from me
Why is that?
How I wish you would move from that hilltop
So that I might see you, feel you
again
Though it seems
I will only see you again
When I too am laid to rest
On that hilltop with the blooming flower
Keith
'Who the fuck is this Keith guy?!' Lance was curious to know this Keith person. Lance knew that Keith was probably the last owner of this notebook. But that begs the question how old is this notebook.
Lance immediately checked the top where there would normally be a title and a date. Well, at least that is the way he did it at least. So when he looked up he was in shock, though it was mainly due to the date and how old this notebook turned out to be.
"June 1, 1859"
Lance choked on air. 'How the heck is this thing in such good condition then! It over 150 years old?! How the heck did my mom even get ahold of something like this?!'
Lance had no idea what to even think at the moment all he knew was that he was holding onto something that was precious to a person named Keith. He began to read through the journal from the first page and found that this Keith person was actually an amazing poet. Though Lance didn't normally write poetry he found that this poetry was inspiring to write some of his own and so without thinking he began to write a sappy love poem on the blank page after Keith's poem.
Lance Mcclain
July 12, 2018
To my love laying in the grass
Your hair softly flutters in the breeze
Your smiling lips
Take my breath away
If I could reach out and touch
Those soft lips
I would
But I can not
For you belong
To someone else
Lance set the journal down on his desk satisfied with the short poem. This was the first poem that he had written in months and he was proud of them. Despite him being a huge flirt Lance couldn't write poems to save his life no matter how hard he tried. He always felt like they were inadequate when it came to expressing himself or his thoughts on a matter. Which was probably why he preferred to write fiction in all actuality.
Lance let out a sigh and leaned back in his chair. He knew that he should probably get started on either editing his last failure of a novel to try to resubmit it or start working on another one. Maybe he should just work on doing more translation work, after all, that was his day job and he hadn't been doing a whole lot of it as of late so he didn't have a whole lot of money left to pay his bills and to make sure that he could feed himself.
Lance stands up and decides that it would be a good idea to check his email for the first time in a few days. Usually, that was how he got translation jobs through a couple publishers that would contact him to do manga and occasionally light novels. They were the bulk of the translation jobs he got since he had a degree in several languages including Japanese.
It wasn't that he didn't like those jobs but he would rather be producing his own content rather than translating someone else's work. Lance wanted to see his book being sold in his local bookstore and maybe someday see it being made into a movie. Lance wanted to live off of his own writing rather than making sure someone else's work made it to shelves in worldwide. He wanted to
Lance sighed again and decided to get to work so that he could have enough money to pay the bills and make rent on time this month instead of having to beg for another week so that he could pa the manager of
After several hours of doing nothing but translating pages and pages of a Spanish novel that was sent to him to be translated he finally stood up and when to get something to eat. His eyes were beyond tired from staring at his laptop screen for hours on end and he slowly began to make himself a bowl of lucky charms. Wishing silently that they would become his lucky charm so that hopefully he would finally manage to publish something of his own.
Though he knew that a brand of cereal couldn't magically make his wish come true. Lance decided to go back and read some more of the poems n the leather notebook again. However, something wasn't right.
Right next to his poem...there was a reply?
Who the fuck are you? And why are you writing in my notebook!
YOU ARE READING
Writing through time
FanfictionLance was a struggling author. Keith was a struggling Poet. The two of them together can mix together and form beautiful stories that captivate all. But there is only one problem they don't live in the same time period, and can only communicate thro...
