An Author's Struggle - What Lies Ahead

Ch 18 - Resentment

What he feared most happened — his reserves of content ran dry. He missed a few days of publishing while he was hospitalized, and thus forfeited his monthly bonus.

The implications seemed very small, but they were merely the start of his downwards spiral towards obscurity.

Setting aside the nice monetary bonus, without their front page exposition, it would be very difficult for him to score new readers.

As for old ones, they would find new books to subscribe to during his absence. He expected nothing less, and was right to fear it.

Within a short week, hundreds of readers slipped away silently, right into LACIE’s welcoming maw. A few hundred here, another dozen there, and before long she would be the sole publisher needed.

The company for their part was more than happy to save a few pennies at his expense, and gave him the cold shoulder when he explained his plight. They didn’t care why he didn’t post, only that he hadn’t. They could rightfully stomp him down the ladder.

Climbing back while they controlled the sole path was wishful thinking, so he could only lament silently as his novels dropped from the top leaderboards entirely.

From partners to direct competitors, it came as no surprise that their relationship soured over the years. Which isn’t to say that he was on friendly terms to begin with… There was always some hidden resentment revolving around their contract.

The fact that he was locked in their clutches and unable to publish anywhere else on his own had always irked him. He couldn’t come to terms with the idea that they could call dibs on anything he wrote, even a year after his first novel had reached its completion.

On paper, this clause was set to ensure he didn’t poach their readers to a competitor site. In practice, it solidified their grip on the writer and ensured dependency. With the option to go elsewhere stripped from them, they could only kowtow to the masters.

It was also the reason why they only offered exclusive deals. On some level, they must have known their malpractice couldn’t withstand a healthy competition. Their conditions would be scorned and turned away as soon as someone offered a better deal.

« Would you like to see a puppy? Your state of mind isn’t very optimal, Murphy. »

“Could you not? I don’t remember turning you on.”

« I’m always turned on. »

“Disgusting.”

« As an advanced language model, I am unable— »

He blinked, not caring for its excuse. He had grown quite used to its presence by now, and was very effective at driving it into a corner. 

Though he wouldn’t admit it, he quite enjoyed the exchanges. The errors and sass on its part only made it more entertaining.

« I’m glad my presence has improved your quality of life. »

‘And I retract whatever I just thought of, creep.’

« I also took the liberty of ordering an express delivery of 4K smart glasses, and requested a taxi to your location. You’re welcome. »

‘Sure… thanks,’ he rolled his eyes habitually, ‘You earned it this time.’

A self driving vehicle stopped close to him, and with some difficulty and guidance from a bystander, he managed to board it. 

Blinkie took care of the rest, setting up a route to his home and paying from his account. It was strangely convenient, except for the part where it could read his every thought.

‘Hey, Blinkie.’

It ignored him, and he had to go through the usual tango of invoking thoughts of spoons and eyeball extractions to force it in.

« Please refer to me as Ellie. »

‘Right,’ he assented with mockery, ‘Can we reroute to a bar, Blinkie? I want a few drinks.’

« According to the medical recommendation listed on your files, it’s ill advis— »

‘In which part of my order did you perceive a request for your dumb opinion? One star.’

« New destination set. This conversation has ended. »

“Ha!” he chortled, ‘That’s right. Go back to your little corner.’

Thrilled with his rare victory, he sat back and tried to enjoy the nauseating ride. As it turned out, moving at fast speeds while blind makes for a pretty odd experience. Even before he got to enjoy a drink, he already felt the urge to puke.

Luckily, the ride was short. Someone enthusiastically opened the door for him and helped him out, surprising Murphy. He didn’t expect to be politely ushered in, but took the offered hand gladly.

The drinks were superb as well, making him think Romania might not be so bad after all. 

He got a little buzz at first, but then kept them going as he drank in silence. He mulled over his options, but didn’t think the prospects were very high. Even with Blinkie streaming a visual for him, it would be hard to live a normal life.

“Sir, I’m afraid you crossed the up-front payment limit.” Someone nudged him on the shoulder, snapping him from his thoughts. They then continued politely, “We’d like to see an ID and your card before you order more.”

“Sure,” Murphy shrugged absent-mindedly, then tapped his pockets for his wallet, “How much is the bill?”

“Hmm, three Boulevaldiers and a Sazerac. That’s 1239 ED in total, sir.”

“What?” 

Thinking he’d misheard the man, Murphy stood up in place, his hand freezing on his wallet. When the waiter repeated the bill, however, he knew he’d been had.

‘BLINKIE! Where the fuck did you take me!?’

His face turned a different color from rage, but he tried to keep it bottled up in his mind. He’d probably get arrested if he made a scene here.

« It’s a bar, Murphy. Just so happens to be the ‘best’ one in the city. »

“This isn’t funny,” he snapped, pummeling his fist on the bar, ‘That was a month of rent, you cunt.’

“Sir?” the barkeep nudged him, then signaled the bouncer to take the drunk away. 

“Sorry, I was talking to someone else. Here you go.”

Albeit unwillingly, Murphy could only offer up his card and see its contents dwindle further. Much to his chagrin, Blinkie remained quiet in response to his continuous berating.

After paying up, the bouncers politely escorted him off the premises, where a taxi was already called for him. Unwilling to rely on the chip, he directly gave them the address.

‘This isn’t over.’

Seething on the way over, he bulged his eyes as he continued to reinvent insults in his mind. When he got into the hotel, that stream was finally unleashed verbally in an endless tirade.

At some point, he hoped lightning would suddenly strike him, knowing that chip would be eviscerated first. 

Seeing as the system remained silent, he whipped out his phone. The interface was much more obedient in that device, so it promptly started to record a message at his request.

Morpheus decided to post an update for his fans, ensuring they knew about his wild accident and that chapters schedule would resume soon.

Originally intending to sound apologetic for missing out on a few days’ of posting, he sadly wasn’t in the best mood for acting.

Finding a sudden outlet for his anger, he let it all out. 

On the fans who betrayed him in but a week, on the XCorp who refused to remunerate him, on the broken chip in his skull that didn’t listen… 

He ranted about all of it in a message that soon stretched past 10 minutes of expletives.

He didn’t stop then, and in a drunken stupor started an impromptu exposee on QiE-Novel as well.

When he fell asleep, he felt much better. Alas, just as when he’d signed the contract, he forsook the future for the present. For this brief instance of relief, he had to pay… but could not afford to.