Painful Pleasures

Interview

I fiddled with my hair, unsure whether I should leave it down as is, or pull it into a ponytail. I was hiding in the bathroom of the publishing office, too nervous to check in. I’d arrived 30 minutes early in case I needed to fix my makeup or hair before the meeting. But now I wish I’d brought a change of clothes because I was starting to not feel as confident in the clothes I picked out. Truth be told, I only own a handful of garments that could work as business casual, mainly because they were expensive, and they aren’t exactly comfortable. I planned to completely reinvent my wardrobe once I got settled into writing full time, but even now, it doesn’t feel like me. I thought I’d feel more grown up and professional, but I feel like a kid playing dress up. Does it make me childish? Shut up, I didn’t really want your opinion. Anyway, after 15 minutes of tweaking my hair, I said f**k it and walked out to check in. I ended up sitting in the waiting room 10 minutes later than our scheduled time. It pissed me off because here I was nervous about making a bad impression when they were the ones making one with me. Though, I guess I was a little relieved as well. At least they wouldn’t be able to judge me too harshly. Finally, a woman with bright copper-colored hair waltzes out of the elevator. She checked in with the clerk then smiled at me.

“Hello, I’m so sorry for keeping you waiting. I had another meeting that dragged on a lot later than expected.” When I stood, she shook my hand eagerly. “It’s so nice to meet you, Ms. Kirkwood. My name is Dani Merlot. You can call me Dani. I hope you didn’t have any trouble getting here.”

“No, it was relatively easy. Should we go?”

“Of course, right this way. Can I get you anything; water, coffee?” she asked. I didn’t have to answer as she was already asking the receptionist to bring us some coffee. We went up the elevator to a conference room with glass walls. I felt so official walking through the aisle, my heels clicking against the freshly waxed wood floors. Inside the room was an older man, probably in his early forties. He smiled and rose to shake my hand as Dani closed the door behind us. “Ms. Kirkwood, this is Omar Willis. He’s one of our commissioning editors here at AA Publishings.”

“How do you do, young lady?” He greeted me. “Allow me to take your jacket. It gets pretty warm in here.”

“Will this meeting take long?” I asked, thinking about how I still needed to get ready for the party later on today. I had a few errands to run and I hadn’t even eaten yet because I was afraid I’d get so nervous I’d throw up.

“Oh, no, it shouldn't be anymore than 30 minutes.” Dani said as she took a seat at the table. The receptionist knocked at the door and entered. She sat down a tray of cream and sugar as well as two cups of coffee. “Thank you, Phebe.” I took the coffee and poured in a bit of creamer and sugar, hoping it would settle my stomach at least until I made it back home. Omar pulled out a folder and a notebook. I grew nervous again. “So, Ms.Kirkwood, before we get into all the contracts and work talk, let’s get to know each other a little better. Tell me, where are you from?”

I took a deep breath to relax. I’d prepared for this interview. As long as I am confident, everything should go well. “I’m from Chicago. I just moved here a little over a month ago.”

“Oh, that’s exciting! Chicago’s a beautiful city and the food is delicious. There’s so many options downtown.” I fought the urge to laugh. Any Chicagoan can tell you, the best food places aren’t downtown. It’s the southern neighborhoods that really put Chicago on the map.

“If you really want some good food, next time venture south.”

She just smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind. So, how are you liking it down here in Philly? Different than what you’re used to?”

“Area wise, sure. Transportation isn’t as convenient as it is in Chicago, but I’m managing. Other than that, there isn’t much that I see as different. I’ll let you know after I’ve lived here a little longer.”

“Please do,” she added. “Well, let’s get down to business, shall we? As I introduced myself earlier, my name is Dani and I’m one of the marketing specialists here. Therefore, I’m often going around, and looking up the best ways to promote and get our signed authors exposure. One of our ways is through a partnered organization called Phantasm, which I’m sure you’ve heard of. That’s how we came across one of your stories.” I felt my heart start to race. “You’ve gained quite a following in just a couple of years, it’s impressive.”

“Especially from someone so young,” Omar added. “We tend to scorn the app from time to time, mainly to check revenue and communicate with our Phantasm, exclusive clients. We don’t see too many authors at your age raising the charts so quickly. Most of them aren’t very consistent due to school or work and have a hard time growing their account.”

“Oh, um, thank you.” At least I think that was a compliment.

“Tell us, what made you want to become a writer?” he asked.

I thought about it for a second. Not because I wasn’t sure, but because I was contemplating how much of the truth I wanted to give them. “Let’s just say I was a big fan of reading growing up. It was a safe space and I loved how each story would bring about different feelings in me. I started writing because I wanted to create similar feelings in others.” Dani smiled as Omar started writing in his notebook. My stomach bubbled, making me feel sick. Why did I still feel nervous? I needed to get myself together. This wasn’t just an interview for me after all. “Can I ask you a few questions, Dani?” her smile widened.

“Of course.”

“What made you choose this profession? Have you always liked marketing jobs?”

“To be honest, this was my first official job working as a marketer. A friend of mine from college worked here as a graphics designer and referred me. Of course, I didn’t come in with 0 experience as I often did a lot of promotional projects in school. Over summer break, people from my church started a fundraiser to help children fighting cancer. It was something we did once a year. I volunteered to help get the word out and my pastor was very insistent that he write me a nice recommendation. Now I wouldn’t exactly say marketing was a passion of mine, because it can be discouraging when you fail to reach enough people who care. Still, I believed if anyone could do it, it was me.” she laughed. “Plus the money isn’t half bad either.”

I looked at Omar. “Mr. Willis, could I expect you to be my editor if I am to sign a contract with AA?” He chuckled.

“I wouldn’t have agreed to attend this meeting if I weren’t.” I faked a laugh. Smartass.

“Right, so what makes you a good editor? How can I trust that you will do what’s best for all my work now and in the future?”

“Well, for one, they’ll fire me if I don’t.” Dani tapped him playfully. “But on a serious note, I too had a passion for reading when I was a kid. I’d spend hours cooped up in the library. There was one thing I detested about certain authors, well their writing at least.” I sat back as my stomach was cramping, making it really hard to sit comfortably. There was a pressure in my lower abdomen that was shifting uncomfortably. I shouldn’t have drank that coffee. “I hated finding a really good book, or one with so much potential, and being unable to completely understand what I was reading. A lot of times, writers try to sound smart and vocally diverse by using all these big words that hardly anyone uses. It just becomes too wordy and readers lose focus. I would get half way through the page and realize I didn’t understand what was going on. I got into editing because I wanted to help build better quality books that you don’t have to be Einstein to understand. I like to challenge our clients, not to focus on the word count, but on the efficiency and flow of the story itself. This isn't college where we can get away with stretching one topic over 5 pages.” That time I did laugh. “I’m a good editor because I’m looking out for the readers as well as my clients.” I smiled. He obviously came prepared for this interview.

“That was lovely, Omar,” Dani said. She picked up the folder he’d brought out and opened it in front of me. “Now, Ms. Kirkwood, if you choose to work with us, we would be looking to get this book published and printed after a bit of editing.” she pointed to an older story I finished that was still growing in popularity. I got excited. I always wanted to see my name printed out on a book cover. “We will also be looking to publish a new story from you within the next year. Are you okay with that?”

“Why in a year?”

“Well, we can wait if you need a bit more time, but that would also put us back from releasing the older book in print. Seeing as you are an upcoming author, it’s best you stay consistent with your work. We don’t want to send this book out and not have another one from you after too long. That’s how you lose public interest.”

“Okay..what’s the pay like?” I asked, which is the main question I was curious about.

“Well, how much you earn in royalties depends on how well your book does on the market. Of course, the company would claim a percentage for production expenses. Seeing as your work isn’t very well known yet, it’ll take us some time, me mainly, to get exposure for your books.”

“How much of a percentage?” I asked. I noticed Dani glancing over at Omar before taking a page out of the folder. “70%?!” I gasped. “I did most of the work! How is that fair?”

She sighed, trying to keep a smile. “You did most of the writing, that’s correct, but signing with a publishing agency makes us your employees. That percentage goes to all the work being done to make your book successful. Seeing as we would handle your editing, marketing, cover design, scheduling, and printing, we would need compensation for our hard work as well.” I went quiet. I was growing angry and highly uncomfortable from the rumbling in my stomach. Omar was scribing away in his notebook. Dani’s face softened. “I know how this looks to you and it can be upsetting. However, I promise, I will do my very best to make your work successful. Famous authors don’t even pay attention to the percentage because their books are doing so well. Most times, they would be earning thousands of dollars every day.”

“Yeah, but I’m sure they’d feel pretty crappy thinking about how much more they could make had they self-published.”

“That is true, and that is very much still an option for you. Just know, it isn’t as easy as it sounds.” I was feeling incredibly sick and crampy. I need this to be over right now. I rose, discreetly clenching my stomach. “Can I get a few days to think about this and get back to you?”

“Of course.” She put the papers back and pulled a card out of her breast pocket. “Email or call me if you have any questions. I’ll be sending you home with a copy of the contract for you to look over.” Omar stood and helped me into my jacket. They both walked me to the elevator. “It was so nice meeting you, Aidana. I hope we see you again.” I seriously doubt it, I thought, but I smiled and got on the elevator. This was a waste of time. I’d gotten my hopes up for nothing. I had no idea that this was what it was like working with a publishing agency. My stomach cramped again and the pressure moved to my butt. I wasn’t going to wait until I got home, so as soon as I got off the elevator, I rushed to the bathroom.

Jamie: Not you shitting yourself at your interview, *laughing emoji*

Me: I didn’t s**t myself. I made it to the bathroom fine. *eye roll emoji*

Monica: But you did it in a public bathroom. I be so scared to do it in public bathrooms.

Me: I didn’t have a choice. Plus, no one was there, thankfully.

Jamie: Even if they were, all you have to do is wait until they flush or turn on the water to squeeze it out. Works for me.

Monica: Yeah, but what about the smell?

Jamie: If you flush quickly, it won’t spread.

Jamila: Can we not talk about poop right now? I’m literally eating chocolate soft serve.

Jamie: That’s your own fault for eating chocolate. s**t tastes like sweet dirt.

Jamila: TAKE IT BACK, RIGHT NOW!

I sat my phone down so I could focus on my makeup. Then again, should I even be wearing makeup? I had better make sure it's waterproof just to be safe. There was a knock at my door. My heart skipped. A part of me hoped it wasn’t Nate because I wasn’t ready yet, but I was also really eager to see him. I tightened my robe around my waist and went to answer the door. Sure enough, it was Nate with a bouquet of coral pink roses and a big goofy grin on his face. I tried to fight it back but I couldn’t stop my own goofy grin. “You shouldn’t have.” I said as I took the flowers. “They’re beautiful, but it doesn’t seem suited for the occasion considering we’re going to a s*x party.” He shrugged and stepped in.

“In my family, it’s customary to bring flowers if you’re meeting a woman at her house.”

“Thank you.” I said as I went into the kitchen to find something to put them in. “You're an hour early, you know? I haven’t even picked out what I was going to wear.” That was a lie, but I didn’t want him to know I'd been anticipating this for nearly a week. I jumped when he came up and slid his hands around my waist. I got a heavenly whiff of his cologne.

“I know. As much as I adore it when you’re dolled up, I thought I’d take advantage of the opportunity to see you in a more primal state.” he kissed the space between my neck and shoulder. I turned around and he picked me up, placing me on the counter. “Kind of a sample before the main course. Call me greedy.” My entire body shivered as he kissed me. I wanted to call off all plans and stay home. It felt like it’d been forever since I had him to myself like this. I could just trap him in for the night. That would be enough. Before I could let myself be swayed, I glanced at my phone. Seeing the group chat made me feel guilty. Nate had offered to drive, so I can’t just ask that we flake on them. I don’t want this to be one of the first few impressions Monica and Jamie have of me. Despite my p***y protesting, I pushed Nate before I got too into it.

“As intriguing as that sounds. Let’s not spoil our appetite. The best things are worth waiting for.” I kissed his cheek and jumped off the counter, not looking back as I went to lock myself in my bathroom.