A Glimpse Into My Next Story

I’ve been working on a new short story.

I started it while I was dealing with issues publishing my first book on Amazon. It was meant to be an addition to my first collection.

My book ended up being published before I finished this story, so it doesn’t really have a home… yet.

It has now become so long that it’s too much for Vocal, so I thought this would be a good time to share an excerpt instead.

It’s about an indie author who runs into issues publishing her first book, and then some strange things start to happen.

It might be loosely based on a few real-life experiences of my own.

Submission Pending

While She Waits

I hear the sound of morning crows, cawing and scratching in the front yard. I must have fallen asleep on the lounge.

Sitting up, I brush a chocolate wrapper off my face and reach for my phone. I’m surprised to see I have 50 social media notifications.

Must be all the messages of support following my post from yesterday, I think as I open the app. I start scrolling through the notifications. There are a lot of new friend requests, a few comments on my post, and some messages:

Have you thought about making a visual trailer for your book?

What’s your current marketing strategy for your book?

Would you like your book to feature in our book club? There’s only a small upfront donation.

No words of encouragement and support. Just heartless book marketers and bots trying to scam me.

I put my phone back under the cushion. I don’t think I’ll be needing it today.

In the silence of the room, I notice the sound from my old twin bell alarm clock softly ticking away on the desk beside me. I would often set the alarm to remind myself to take breaks from writing to eat.

The ticking grows louder.

Clack, Clack, Clack.

It’s so loud, it feels like it's inside my head.

It slows.

Clack… Clack… Clack…

I shake my head, bringing myself back to reality.

Food, I need food.

I go to the kitchen and check the contents of the fridge. Half a block of cheese, a little crusted at the edges where I didn’t cover it properly. There’s also some dip, juice and my bottle of bubbles hiding sadly at the back.

In the pantry, I find a few slices of stale bread, not yet mouldy, a tin of soup, instant coffee, and a packet of chips.

Perfect, that’s enough to survive on for today. I don’t have to go anywhere or face anyone right now. Cutting the crusted edges off the cheese, I settle on the tin of soup with a cheese toasty for breakfast. I take it to the lounge room, grabbing my laptop on my way.

Balancing my laptop on my knees, I put the bowl of soup next to me. I decide to read my manuscript from start to finish to try to work out where I went wrong.

I’m about halfway through when I hear my phone “Ding” from under the cushion. It’s Cynthia. She saw my post yesterday and wants to check in.

Finally, someone who actually cares! I reply to her message:

My book submission has been “CANCELLED,” whatever that means. I’m waiting for them to get back to me with more details, but it might take six business days.

Cynthia replies almost immediately:

Cancelled? I’ve never had that problem with any of my books before…

I’m sure everything will be okay and it will be an easy fix. Should I pop over tomorrow afternoon so we can talk more?

I tell her that will be fine. I might go out in the morning, but I’ll be home in the afternoon.

As I put my phone back down, I notice my bowl of congealed soup and realise I haven't eaten any of it. I force down a few spoonfuls and take a bite of my cold, hard sandwich before getting back to my manuscript.

I hear the crows rustling again outside. With a sigh, I look at my watch, thinking it must still be morning.

It’s 6 p.m.

I’ve been sitting here all day.

I should be shocked. Instead, I’m relieved I’ve managed to waste an entire day. I’ve almost read my entire manuscript, combing it for spelling and formatting errors, or copyright issues. I can see a few places where I have mentioned brand names, but other than that, I’m completely stumped as to what the issue might be.

A tickle in my throat suddenly triggers a coughing fit. My larynx is dry and scratchy. I wonder if I’m getting sick. Then it occurs to me, I haven’t drunk anything today. I head to the kitchen, planning to get a glass of water. As I open the fridge, I catch sight of my celebratory bottle of bubbles. A thin layer of dust has settled on it, probably because it’s been sitting there so long. I get it out, meaning to dust it off. Without thinking, I open it and take a large gulp straight from the bottle.

As I carry the bottle back to the lounge room, I chuckle to myself.

It couldn’t get dusty; it was in the fridge.

I’m still working on it, and it’s now up to 30 A4 pages, so who knows what it will become next.