The Author sat down at her desk, once again facing a brick wall—that is to say, her laptop, the blank page before her, the cursor blinking saucily in her bloodshot pupils. The Author couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t think. Could hardly eat because she felt so unbearably stuck. She knew her characters needed her, but it had been so long; she was scared to face them.
Multiple times she thought about trashing her entire WIP (Work In Progress). Every time she went to put it in the digital trash can, tiny voices seemed to scream from the back of her skull.
These same voices were the ones not allowing her to sleep. Blocking her thoughts. Occasionally reminding her she needed to eat. Not that she could actually hear them talking to her. It was more of a hum that changed frequencies, sometimes whirring and screaming, other times low and rumbling.
Sighing, the Author plopped her head in her hands, palms pressed against her weary eyes.
This writer’s block might be the end of me, she thought to herself.
There was a tap on her shoulder. The Author peeled her palms from her eyelids and blinked in the blue glow of the laptop. Standing beside her was a man who fit the quintessential Hero description: tall and well-muscled with tousled black hair that framed a beautiful jawline and deep-set blue eyes that seemed to possess all the world’s oceans.
The Author felt herself smile. “Hey, Grey. What’s up?”
Grey frowned and sat down on the edge of the desk. “What’s up? Seriously? That’s all you’ve got for me?? You promised you’d have my first draft done LAST YEAR.” He looked at his watch. “It is now the middle of 2024.”
The Author swallowed the lump of guilt lodged in her throat. “I’ve had a lot going on.”
“Make me a priority, or you’re going to end up in that Unwritten Library, like in that book you read.”
“Seems harsh…”
The hurt in Grey’s eyes softened. “I’m only saying the words that you literally put into my mouth. You know who to take that up with? You, yourself, and… you… Ok, that didn’t work as well as ‘me, myself, and I.’”
At the opposite end of the desk, another figure took a seat. She said with a grin, “Hey, guys, what’s up?”
Grey jumped and held up his hands in a fighter’s stance. “Ah! Liz, when did you get here?”
Liz looked at Grey like he was stupid. “I just did. Like right now. You saw me pop up right here.”
Trying to cover his cowardice, Grey leaned casually against the wall. “You assume we have eyes right now. Our great and all-powerful Author has not actually specified we have eyes.”
The Author tried to cut in, “Well, I did sort of—”
Liz cut her Author off. “Infer then that we have eyes. She’s written about our eyes in the novel drafts.”
“Yeah and still hasn’t even gotten the first one published,” Grey grumbled.
The Author jumped to her feet. “It’s kind of expensive!!!”
Grey thrust a finger at his Author’s chest. “Then be better!! You might win one of those contests you keep submitting to if you were better!!!!”
Stepping between them, Liz moved Grey back. “Wow, Grey, this is very out of character for you.”
Growing increasingly angry, Grey pushed against Liz, still pointing an accusing finger at his Author. “Take it up with HER! She’s the one doing this to me! Making me wait… making me wonder what’s going to happen next to me. Right now I’m maybe back in France and maybe struggling with my addiction and maybe trying to solve an international scandal? I DON’T KNOW ANYMORE BECAUSE ALL PROGRESS HAS STOPPED!!!” He gripped his head with his hands, tousling his perfect hair further.
Confused, Liz looked first at the Author and then at her friend. “When did the mission turn into a scandal? Actually, don’t answer that. The word choice was very you. Look, maybe it’s my fault. She’s stumped by what to do with my storyline. The Author wants to give me a chance to rise to the occasion, prove that I’m capable, and be a boss-lady.”
From behind the Author a voice said, “That’s true.”
Liz jumped in surprise. “Aliya! When did you get here?”
Aliya looped her arm around her Author’s. “Technically, I’ve been here the whole time. The Author and I are… um, ya know, very connected.”
The Author flushed pink. Looking at Aliya was like looking into a mirror. She’d always feared that her other characters were perhaps jealous. Although there was a piece of her in each of them, Aliya was her paper soulmate. Or, in this case, digital, since Aliya’s novel still hadn’t been published.
Grey confirmed the Author’s fears. “Must be nice. I don’t think she likes me anymore.”
Aliya and the Author both exclaimed, “That’s not true!”
This time Aliya’s cheeks were tinged pink. “Sorry, you can explain it better than I can….”
The Author smiled gratefully. “Thanks. Like Aliya and I both said, that’s not true, Grey. I love you dearly.” Taking a deep breath, the Author searched her mind for the right words to say. She closed her eyes and imagined she was writing at her keyboard. “I am paralyzed by my own self-doubts, lack of time, and a sense of being totally overwhelmed. There’s so much going on in the story, and I find myself getting lost. I so desperately want to do a good job and convey your story in a powerful and beautiful way that I just… don’t write. Because then I can’t fail you if what comes out is pure garbage.”
Everyone was silent for a moment. A voice behind Grey spoke up. “I’m calling BS.”
Both Grey and Liz jumped out of their skins. Grey spun around and looked into a face that was similar to his own, yet not quite the same. “Bro, when did you get here??”
Carson, Grey’s younger brother, said in his quiet, even tone, “I’ve been here the entire time observing.”
Liz frowned. “Why are you like that? It’s disconcerting.”
“Well, I love it,” Aliya giggled.
“Oh, shut up.” Liz rolled her eyes. “Vanish again, why don’t you?
“Uh. Rude. You’re just mad because my book is done, and yours barely exists.”
Shoving Aliya, Liz shouted, “Grey started it!”
Making a “T” with his hands, Carson stepped between the two girls. “Time out. If anyone should be mad it’s me because my book is the last one in the series. So I have a very long time to wait.”
All four Characters looked at their Author. “Guys, I’m sorry. I know it’s a lame excuse but there’s been A LOT going on!”
Liz nodded her hands on her hips. “It is a lame excuse. There’s always a lot going on.”
“But this is different.”
Grey stepped up beside Liz, arms crossed. “Is it though? Is it really? I was promised a rough draft LAST YEAR!!!”
The Author shrank back, ashamed and exhausted. Tears filled her eyes.
Carson laid a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Dude, simmer down. I’ll handle this.”
With an eye roll, Liz muttered under her breath, “Of course you will….”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Aliya asked.
Liz gave Aliya and the Author a knowing look. “Oh, you know exactly what it means.”
Both Aliya and her Author turned beet red.
Turning to his Author, Carson said, “Ignore them. Listen to me, Author. You can do this.” He took both of her hands. “Yes, there’s a lot of heavy and scary and unknown stuff happening in your life right now. It’s much easier to check out and watch TV instead of spending time with us. We get it. We understand. Right, everyone?”
When no one replied, Carson coughed and prompted them again. “Right?”
There was a mumbled chorus of yeah’s.
Carson continued. “But you might feel better if you work on our stories. We are something you can actually control in your life.” He dropped his Author’s hands. “Sure, we might surprise you by the choices we make. But you won’t discover those unless you write. So find the time. Engage with us. Take us on adventures. You’ve done it before. Right, Aliya?”
With a grin, Aliya interlaced her fingers into Carson’s. “Yup. And how good did it turn out? Pretty good! You laid a great foundation for the next chapter with Grey.”
Taking that as his cue, Grey said, “So, come spend time with me. Let’s keep laying down the big, beautiful pieces to tell the story of love and redemption that you’re longing to write.”
“Don’t be scared of the unknowns,” Liz pipped in. “Just try an idea, run with it, and see where it leads. That’s what you did half the time with Aliya.”
The Author felt the weight sink heavier on her shoulders. “Yeah, and the re-writing overhauls were HUGE! I don’t want to do that again.”
Gently but firmly, Carson said, “Then this isn’t the job for you if you’re not willing to fail and work hard.”
The Author blinked in surprise. “I never said that.”
“Not explicitly, no. But that’s basically what you said. I know that sounds harsh, but we all need a little tough love sometimes.”
Grey shot his brother a confused look. “Ok, that sounded less like you and more like me.”
“I know. I was trying something. Please, back up, and let me continue talking to our Author.”
Grey, Liz, and Aliya all stepped back, disappearing into the shadows. Blue light from the computer screen bathed Carson and the Author.
“Author,” Carson said, his gaze fixed on his Author, “you can do this. Use the time you have been given and pour yourself into it. You have a gift. Don’t waste it.”
The Author cast her eyes downward. Carson reached out and tilted her chin, gently prompting her to look at him.
“You’re scared? Fight back. You fear failure? Face it head-on. We won’t let you down. You know us inside and out. We can and are a place of security for you. So, seriously, don’t give up on us.” He brushed a strand of his Author’s hair behind her ear. “Because you’ll only be giving up on yourself. Jump back in, and in the words of one of your favorite authors ‘dive deep.’”
The Author blinked, and Carson was gone.
She was sitting at her desk, the blank document no longer blank. The flashing cursor seemed more like an anxious dog tugging at a leash, excited to reach the next paragraph, the next sentence, the next word!
Fingers danced across the keys as she continued to tear down the wall of writer’s block. Grey’s charming smile spread across the page while Liz’s sassy self kept him in place; Aliya and Carson’s romance tangled through the plotline.
Characters and Author together, telling a story of what it means to be human.
As an author, Alexandra Rexford enjoys writing stories with wit and romance, including a dash of danger. In a perfect world, she would spend all her time writing, reading, sipping hot cocoa, and snuggling with her dogs.
Featured image by Kari Shea.
