Gunpowder and Hyacinths

chapter six

Ophelia's pov

"So how's the writing coming along?" Henri asked releasing me from his bear hug. "Uhmm, well it's... good?" "Yeah I'm sure, wait so how many books have you published so far?" He inquired.

So I might have forgot to mention it buut I'm kinda an author. Well not kinda I am. I have published 2 of my works. The first novel I wrote fell into the Fantasy / Action / Adventure genres. It did not receive as much attention as I wanted it to. I brushed the thought off though using the excuse that it was my first novel and I was fairly new to the whole process. I did not have that much experience before this novel, except for a few fanfics I had written online anonymously when I was 15. I mean who didn't, but that wasn't enough experience and I barely got any skills except how to write good smut from that.

In the end I walked blindfolded into the writing community expecting to receive the credit I thought I deserved. Clearly my efforts were rewarded by some 69 readers buying the only copies ever published. I don't know if the stats are still the same. I stopped checking a long time ago.

The second book I wrote fell into strictly into the Romance genre. I used what little knowledge I had picked up from my teenage years of writing fanfictions and published what I thought was my redemption. That day I learnt 2 things:

1. To never again let my parents read any of my future Romance novels.
2. And that the people have no lives and are horny little shits.

This book had reached a wider audience than what I had anticipated. I sold 567 copies. I know what you must be thinking: "That's a lot of copies!" "Why are you so ungrateful?" "You should be lucky to have even sold one copy!"

Well in all honesty, I am very grateful but I had hoped higher numbers and a larger audience when I first started writing. In this industry I've learnt that you are either up there or down there. There's no inbetween. It's not about writing for enjoyment or entertainment purposes anymore. Writing is a long process. It's stressful, messy, time consuming and takes a lot out of you. It's not simply putting sentences onto paper.

When I used to write I used to take situations I had personally lived through and include it in my novels. I did this on more than one occasion. I think that this way I was connected to my books in a deeper way and not just as the author. In a way I was telling my story through my characters. I sometimes included the relationships between my family, friends and past mistakes- oops- I mean past lovers.

Obviously they didn't know they were in it. I'd probably get sued, but writing what I went through was sort of like my therapy. Therapy is soo goddamn expensive. Everyone always says "You should try therapy" "It's really helpful" Yeah no shit Sherlock. It's nice only if your rich. Like sorry my bad not all of us were born rich.

So you know how your parents are always supportive of whatever big decisions you make in life? Well not in this household. My mom was kinda supportive but she wished I would have done 'something more unique and well-paying with my life'. Whatever that's supposed to mean. I should have expected it as she is a nurse. My dad was almost livid. He was upset that I decided to something so dull with my life. Our exact conversation or argument should I say went something like this:

"Why Ophelia? Why? Why would you choose something so, so... tedious. Out of all the possibilities you had right in front of you. I did not send you to a good school so you can waste your life with meaningless books. You really think anyone would be interested in reading books written by am ordinary French girl? And what would you even write about? Romance? How original. Like we don't live in a country that thrives of the concept of love. Your mother and I work very hard and deserve a daughter who realises all the efforts we put in to keeping her alive! You mother worked double sometimes even triple shifts just to make sure you could afford the compulsory textbooks. This is how you repay us?! Where did that little girl who wanted to become the new owner and baker of our shop go?"

"Haha, you really want to know where she went?" Sarcasm practically dripping from my words. "She fell down a rabbit hole a long time ago. Can't you just be happy for me? Mom was okay with it. So I don't see why you have a problem. Ohh yea, and I AM grateful to both of you for giving me a good education but it's MY life and I want to enjoy it and pave MY own path."

"Foolish girl! You won't get far with that career and attitude." He drew in a long breath and let it out. His anger soon being replaced with an unsettling calmness. "Listen here. If this whole charade of yours doesn't work out" and it never will he mumbled to himself but I heard every word. "You always have a spot in the bakery." He replied and then walked out of the living room leaving me there speechless and with tears rolling down my cheeks.

That was the worst day of my life. Well almost. The worst day was when my books failed and I had to take him up on his offer. I made peace with him but that memory always haunts me. I love my dad. He's kind, caring and always spent time with me. He was around more than my mom but I couldn't blame her. She was a nurse after all. Anyway, he always showered me with love but sometimes you can't stop your mind from going back to bad memories. It's like no matter how much good they did, when they stumble and hurt you, it's not the good memories that stay and haunt you. It's the bad ones.

"2 books so far." "And I'm so proud of you for that." Henri said. "Hey remember that time your parents found out I was gay...

Authors note

So I've been really busy lately and don't have much time for writing but I'll try to atleast update once a week. I'm starting exams and the stress is hitting. Buuut any comments or direct messages to me, basically any feedback on what y'all would like to see would be really helpful. Thanks. Enjoyy~