than it’s ever been, and I can’t allow that to fade if I want to stay relevant. The industry is cutthroat these days with the influx of people who are now self-publishing. I know this because I’m what’s considered a hybrid; I’m both traditionally published and self-published, thanks to the non-compete clause my agent fought against.
“No problem. I’ll get to work today. I understand timing is everything, so as soon as I get the summary done, I’ll email it to you so you can review while I work on hammering out some chapters.”
“Good. We’d like to aim to have the book on shelves within the next five months, so we are pushing a tight deadline. Get working on it and I will email you today or tomorrow with hard deadline dates for each stage.”
“Thanks, Tabitha. I’ll talk to you later.”
With an exhale, I plop down on the sofa and kick my feet up onto the coffee table. There have been a few fleeting ideas that have come to me in the past few days, but nothing that’s anywhere near fleshed out enough to write a summary for. I swipe my phone and open the app to voice chat with Brooke.
“Brooke, you there?”
While I wait for her to respond, I take the pad of paper that’s on the coffee table and jot down a few notes. This is the first book I have to develop under a time crunch. Up until the last contract, I’ve pitched story concepts to the publisher that they have liked and contracted me for. But with this contract, not only did they take the two-book series I pitched them, but they also wanted three more books beyond that. Now that we are at that point, I feel more pressure than ever since I normally wait until a story naturally comes to me before I start writing. Now I have to manufacture a story without allowing it to form organically. I know this is how most authors in the traditional world operate, and I’m sure I can do it too. It’s just new and uncomfortable.
“I’m here. What’s up?”
“Tabitha just called.”
“Uh oh. Are you in trouble?” she teases.
“I could be,” I tell her. “I have to have a summary for the next book to her by Friday, and she is pushing for me to also have chapters for her. So I need your help.”
“Of course. What can I do?”
“Well, I have a few ideas I want to run by you and get your opinion. I know you’re more of a murder mystery girl, but I need to get some direction here.”
“Tell me what you have.”
“Okay, well, what if I did a student/teacher type th—”
“No,” she interrupts. “There’s too much of that out there and it isn’t you. It would just get lost in the sea of other books just like that. You need something more original.”
“Oookay. Well, you shot that one down fast.” I laugh as I cross that idea off the list.
“Sorry, but you asked for honesty. Next.”
“Military. I was thinking maybe the husband gets wounded at war and is now disabled. It takes a toll on the wife and—”
“And she falls in love with one of his combat brothers while turning to him for support.”
“What the hell, Brooke?”
“It’s been done a thousand times. And what do you know about the military anyway?”
“Well . . . nothing, but that’s why I have you.”
With a sarcastic moan, she says, “As if the workload you give me isn’t full enough, you want me researching military shit? Pass. Next.”
“Oh, my God. I want to slap you so bad.”
“I bet you do, hooker.” Her response is followed by a loud, bellowing laugh.
Going to my next idea, I read, “A girl who winds up in a mental institution for some reason I can come up with later. But she should be young, fourteen or so. Her therapist is the crazy one and winds up developing a very unhealthy attraction to her. Fast forward, she’s a young adult and that therapist from her past is obsessed with her. I don’t know where the story goes, but I can develop one around that premise.”
There’s a pause as I cringe at what her response will be, and then she says, “I like that.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. But you can’t make it sleazy and slutty. I mean, obviously he’s gotta be psychotic . . . like clinically diagnosable.”
“Yeah, yeah. Totally. It would be a dark story.”
As I sit here, ideas spark in my head faster than I can talk.