Smartystan

In his study, Dr. Strong wrote. Like droplets of words pouring out of his brain, he made letters, sentences, paragraphs, and chapters sing. Each word he tuned finely because he spoke them aloud. The music of the words always intrigued him and pushed him to go further. He possessed a mastiff named Chimney for its reddish color. He petted her and allowed her to relax on the large floor rug in the center of the room.

He went through all the proper channels and found his publisher on the phone.

“How’s it coming along?” Ponce Serrano asked. He had a husky voice from cigars and cognac. Somehow, though, it seemed crisp and airy over the phone.

“It’s going.”

“I want you to remember, this is your biggest advance yet.”

“For the last time, Ponce, I don’t want an advance. I want a percentage of the gross sales.”

“You know we can’t do that. I know you’re selling like crazy, but that just can’t be done.”

“Why not?”

Ponce breathed. “You’re one of our top sellers but if we give you that percentage, the other authors are going to want the same thing.”

“Okay….”

“Well, we can’t have the tall poppies like you sticking above the rest. You’ve got to be on the same equal playing field as the roster.”

“That’s all I needed to hear. Thanks, Ponce.” He ended the call.

Dr. Strong inhaled strongly. He then took a pen and jotted down the numbers to independent publishers. He knew that he would take a pay cut by being with a smaller publishing house, but he didn’t see it as a sacrifice. He valued getting the right amount of money for his efforts.

Chimney stood to her feet and barked.

“It’s okay, Chimmy. It’s just the door.”

Dr. Strong got to his feet and answered it.

“Vestin, glad to see you. Come in, son,” Dr. Strong remarked.

“Thanks, Doc. I’ve been going through professional and personal problems. I thought the only one who could help solve them was you.”

“I’m flattered. Tell me about it.”

“I lost seven million yesterday. I’m making up for it today, but it just seems like there’s no one that cares, truly. Chanda, she’s cool but she is in private equity. She’s not concerned with the amount of money I lose because she’s still stuck on denying the fact that crypto is finally becoming familiar and legitimized.”

“I see.”

“So, that’s where I need you. You can cover both grounds. You’ve got finance undergraduate degrees and can remedy this entire situation. What do I do next?”

“That’s just the problem. You don’t have to ask me what to do next. You already know, right?”

“How?”

“You’ve made a profit today to cover yesterday’s losses right?”

“Indeed.”

“You and Chanda are happy together making money, right?”

Vestin knew where this was going. He smiled and his teeth were as white as piano keys that weren’t black.

“I see what you’re saying, Doc. That’s why I came over here. I knew you’d have an answer to whatever issue I had and ask questions methodically. Ideas are springing in my head right now. Thank you for letting me know how to answer my own questions.”

“The pleasure is all mine. I just want to make sure you know that you can come to me with anything. It’s an open door policy.”

“Thanks, again.” Soon, Go had gone off into the wind and Dr. Strong returned to his work. He looked at the different houses and chose one. He typed up an email to express his interest in being signed to the Zwanendael Publishing Company. He delighted in the fact he had been able to show his previous publisher just what he could do with all his books sold. Now, this remained a new chapter, so to speak. This meant that his economics books would sell as many copies but he would still profit with the smaller publisher.

Chimmy ran out of the room. Dr. Strong looked at the dog scamper off and grinned. He calculated in his head the right amount of money he would receive based on projected sales. He knew that his last book sold well but it didn’t do as well as the previous one. That’s another reason why Serrano tried to get him to stay. With his wits intact, he knew he could summon up enough strength to put into a book so potent and influential that it would best his previous efforts.

He set to typing again. He made no revisions or edits during the writing process. He just let the words flow from him in a way that led to his ability to convey better messages from his thoughts. In the process, he sensed the “in the zone” feeling anyone accomplished at something senses when they are excelling at something. Dr. Strong was right there. He had in his mind the entire layout of the book. He envisioned the proper rollout, too. He saw the audiobook sales, the signings, the different advertisements to go along with it. All of this coalesced into a man who knew what the hell he was doing. From helping out Go, to finishing another book on the economics of poor people who had been raised out of poverty without government assistance, he knew he’d have a blockbuster on his hands.

He knew the way for him to continue to be an asset and another addition to his editions. He already could see the books lined up in a series and the amount of money up front wouldn’t be able to hold him. Again, he wanted no advance. For a small publisher to take on a large fish like him, they’d throw money his way and ensure that the vault would open for him even more.

With the manuscript finished, he had time to take in the beauty of his home. Chimney returned to her spot on the floor and he felt the warmth from his fireplace. His hands clasped behind his head and he leaned back in his chair.

The completion of a book had to be savored.