The Owl King

Chapter 2: Confrontation

My editor summoned me to a small café that was created from the fictional one from Friends. It was moderately crowded but easy enough to pick out her shock of blonde hair from the crowd. Her brow was furrowed. I knew that look well. She was going to deliver bad news. It paired with my inner duality from the earlier blow. It weighed inside me like a stone. Now I saw my career fall through my fingers. Dread and panic wracked me. My novels would decrease in figures, the profit I shared from the sales would reduce down to a dollar until people could only scrape the books from garage sales. I felt myself hardening. And then I was facing her as a shell, numb on the inside, and nothing on the outside.

"Oh Sarah...I've been trying to get a hold of you all night!" She peeled her eyes away from the tablet in her hands shooting a glare from her glasses to my eyes. I barely noticed. I didn't even notice there was an urgency in her voice. Everything felt delayed. Time slowed. It felt like ages until I comprehended what she said. I raised a brow groggily blinking my eyes as though I had just woken up.

"What was that?"

"Your numbers have been growing in popularity overseas. I'm arranging a scheduled interview in one of the best bookselling stores in New England. As you know you were approved to sell there as well as a few other international countries but it seems London has absorbed your story and taken such a fondness for your trilogy that they want to know what's in the works for this year. I thought this would be an excellent opportunity for you to speak about the upcoming debut of your new novel as well as help your figures climb. What do you think?"

What could I say? I was speechless. Seconds ago my world was shattered and now the pieces ran in reverse fitting back together. Every thin shard forming itself back to something substantial.

"This is so sudden..."

"I understand. But we do have a limited gap since in two more months your book will be fresh off the press and ready for sales." I found my courage had dwindled and I couldn't tell her that I virtually had nothing ready. How could I face these new people who would be peppering me with questions about a draft that doesn't exist?

"Sabrina, give me a run down as to what will go on during this appearance."

"Well there will be a radio interview, there might be photo-shoots, a signing of course, a brief Q and A as well as some inspirational speech you can conjure, and three days for you to explore the city. I'm hiring a local guide." Seemed fair enough. In fact I might only just touch upon the topic of the new novel with a vague description. I was in control. This is what politicians did all the time in the media. Avoid the real issues, direct the conversation in your favor, and answer questions with questions. I was nothing more than an icon versus and authority figure. I could do this. Maybe I could even escape from my thoughts and leave them behind on the plane.

I was already home sick and we hadn't even left the country yet. There was the business of preparing for travel. When it was all said and done I yearned to stay in the comfort of my home. That was the point of being a novelist. I could become a recluse as much as I want for the sake of having a validated excuse to stay shut in. Not to mention the more attention I received the less I felt inclined to appear at public events. I wringed my forefingers around one another. I hated traveling. Hated being on planes. Keep your feet grounded dad was always barking at me. This was far from the ground. I bit back my laughter when the saying 'keep your head in the clouds' came to me in the most inappropriate setting.

London was built over water, by water, and that meant there were bridges and ships passing. At least the city I lived on was an island with one way on and off. There were canals and passages that I could easily lose myself in here. The buildings weren't all huddled together like a group of people standing close to each other. Here the building had gaps like the teeth of boxers. Nothing was intimate. I wanted to be outside of this. To see the greenery, to submerge myself in the rich history of the tales that surrounded the country side. I wanted to hear about red caps, werewolves, trolls, goblins...I froze in the lobby of the hotel. The last thought lingering momentarily in my head like an echo in a cave.