Amelia
"So we have a couple different options we could go with..." Mr. Rodgers tells me.
The two of us stand in his office, hovering over a table off to the side by a large window overlooking the city. On the table lies several illustrations and pictures - mock book covers for my upcoming novel. Although I have some time before mass copies of the book will be produced, assuming a publishing company wants to actually publish my book, Mr. Rodgers is going to print off a few hard copies of my book prematurely. I had asked if it was possible so I could show my family and get their opinions on it before going through with an upcoming book deal, and luckily he said it was. It's not common, but he was willing to pull some strings.
Thank God he likes me.
He's also very fond of Harry, or rather 'Henry Steels' as he puts it. I'm pretty sure he has a soft spot for him since his young daughter is apparently a fan. I came to find this out last week. I'll have to introduce her to Harry, if he's willing, as a form of gratitude for everything her father is doing for me. He's making this process extremely easy for me. And even though I know it shouldn't be, since this is my debut novel after all, I'm still grateful.
I run my fingers over some of the pages, scanning over which book covers I like and which I want to pass on. A majority of them are very cartoonish, which doesn't fit the theme of my book. I immediately push those pictures to the right corner of the table.
The remaining pictures aren't awful. Some are kind of solemn looking, while others just...boring. Overall they lack something and I'm left not feeling confident choosing any of them.
"I don't know..." I sigh.
I don't want to be difficult by refusing to choose a book cover today since Mr. Rodgers had some illustrators in the publishing company draft these up, but at the same time I can't choose something I'm not entirely happy with. This is a big deal to me.
"Listen, Amelia," Mr. Rodgers says in a gruff voice. It sounds as though he's smoked at least a pack already today. "Don't choose something you don't love. If none of these are it, then let me know and I'll have Ryan and Ciara draft up a couple more. They don't mind."
But I do.
"Thanks, Mr. Rodgers...I just feel bad. It's not their job to help me make a book cover," I say, to which he laughs lightheartedly.
"I'm paying them so yes, it is their job," he reminds me with a small smile. "But they don't mind, believe me. They do this for a living. Plus, we haven't had many books to publish lately so they were more than willing to do something other than mindless paperwork and doodles."
I force a smile, suddenly feeling stressed.
But why? My book is finally ready, the final copy having being sent in to Mr. Rodgers before Harry and I went on our small trip to California. I've been working on other details for it for the past two weeks, such as a brief summary for the inner cover and the thanks and acknowledgements. The hard part of actually producing something worthwhile is finally over, but yet why am I so overwhelmed?
I suppose part of it could be because I have no idea if any publishing company will even want to take a chance on it. Mr. Rodgers told me that his publishing company, the one I work for, could technically publish it since he's in charge of the whole operation, but he thinks a bigger publishing company will suit me better in this case since they have more funds to be able to purchase a large quantity. They also have greater advertising means and could offer me a higher paycheck.
I guess I just hate the unknown. Although the hard part is over, we're now entering into a new realm of this business and it's extremely stressful for me since I have no idea what will happen next.
