No Changes

The Toronto Film Festival was a whirlwind of an experience. It was the first film festival I had attended, and I enjoyed it immensely. The festival was filled with back-to-back interviews, meetings with industry professionals, and interactions with other celebrities.

At the festival, I had the chance to meet some of Hollywood's biggest names. With Tom introducing me to everyone, they all took me quite seriously. Matt Damon was one of them. We talked about his upcoming projects, and he expressed interest in collaborating someday. I also met Josh Brolin, Ben Affleck, Blake Lively, and many more.

The highlight of the festival was undoubtedly meeting Clint Eastwood. Tom introduced me to him, and I was thrilled and a bit starstruck. We discussed filmmaking, his experiences, and he even gave me some invaluable advice on directing and storytelling.

Before Toronto, we had organized a private screening of 12 Angry Men for top critics in New York. The critics seemed to enjoy the film, and we had a brief Q&A session with them. They were full of praise, even calling it a masterpiece.

Now I had to focus on the upcoming release of the much-anticipated final book of the Percy Jackson series. Also, the first book of the new series, A Song of Ice and Fire, was being edited. I had only written three-quarters of it, so it was not complete yet, but the new editors were already at work on what was finished.

I was a bit distracted today as I walked through the offices of my publishing company. Haley had not replied to my texts since this morning, which was weird because Haley was never away from her phone. As noon arrived, I was really getting worried.

I walked into the kitchen in the office to find Mitchell there; he looked like he was preparing to leave.

"Hey Daniel," Mitchell greeted, with a muffin in hand.

"Are you leaving early?" I asked.

"Yes, I have a meeting with a prospective preschool for Lily."

"A bit late, isn't it?" I said.

"Yes, I know. We forgot," Mitchell said, a bit embarrassed.

Mitchell then told me about how they had to choose between two preschools: one Claire set up for them and another very high-end one.

"So just enroll Lily in the one Claire recommended. I don't think you will be able to get into the posh one," I said skeptically.

"They have an interview process, and remember, I'm gay, and we have a Vietnamese baby. Very diverse, right?"

I thought for a moment. "Yeah, that might work."

"We also got accepted by the school Claire recommended," Mitchell said.

"Hey, you want the best for the kid, right?" I said, checking my phone again as it buzzed with a text. It was not Haley but Julie, my PA.

"Yeah, I guess we do," Mitchell said.

"If you don't get into the posh school, you will always have the one Claire recommended as a backup," I said.

Mitchell nodded.

"Do you know why Haley is not answering my texts?" I asked.

"No, Haley's never away from her phone," Mitchell said.

"Are you guys having a fight?" Mitchell asked.

"No, it's weird. I am going to go check on her," I said.

"Yeah, you better. It's weird Claire never answered my texts either," Mitchell said.

I was about to leave when I stopped and asked, "Oh, before you leave, anything on the guy in Greece?"

"He is being a bit difficult, but nothing to worry about," Mitchell said.

"Oh, good. And good luck with the posh preschool. Remember to really show off that diverse family stuff," I said before leaving with a muffin in hand.

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I walked to the conference room as I had a meeting with the editors about A Song of Ice and Fire. Many, including Lucy, were not happy about my change in genre from teen fantasy to a dark political fantasy thriller. They were even less pleased when they began reading through it.

I entered the conference room where Lucy and the other editors were already seated: four people in total.

Lucy was there as always.

Next to her sat Whitney, an experienced editor with graying blonde hair pulled into a tight bun. She was the most senior of the group and had a motherly yet stern demeanor, often serving as the voice of reason.

On Whitney's left was Jenna, a younger editor with vibrant red hair and a penchant for colorful outfits. She had a bubbly personality but was known for her sharp editing skills and keen eye for detail.

To Jenna's right was Michael, the only man in the room. He had a calm and composed demeanor, with dark hair and a neatly trimmed beard. His analytical approach to editing often balanced out Jenna's more creative and spontaneous style.

I sat down, and from the look on their faces, it was clear they still wanted to convince me to continue with Percy Jackson.

"Alright, let's hear it," I said, breaking the silence.

They began explaining their concerns in earnest, each offering their perspective on the potential impact of the new series on my current image and fanbase.

Whitney started, "Daniel, we're worried that this new novel might be damaging to your current image. Your readers are used to the fun, adventurous tone of Percy Jackson. This one is quite a departure."

"It's too graphic," Michael added, flipping through the manuscript. "The violence and mature themes are going to be a shock to your existing audience. Some of the scenes are very intense."

"Not to mention, it's a huge change from your usual genre. Your readers and their parents might not appreciate this shift." he added.

Jenna, though visibly torn, spoke up, "We get that you want to explore different genres, but there's a risk here. The language, the complexity of the plot, the mature content – it's all very different from what your readers expect from you."

Michael sighed, "We've seen it happen before. Authors shift genres, and it can lead to a loss of readership. We're not saying it's a bad series – far from it. It's just that it might be too much of a departure for your current readers."

"I am sure I will gain a new audience," I said, trying to ease their concerns.

"Look, let us read a part that we found to be quite uncomfortable," Michael said.

"Fine, go ahead," I replied.

Michael looked through the pages in his hand and began reading a highlighted passage.

"Afterward she could not say how far or how long they had ridden, but it was full dark when they stopped at a grassy place beside a small stream. Drogo swung off his horse and lifted her down from hers. She felt as fragile as glass in his hands, her limbs as weak as water. She stood there helpless and trembling in her wedding silks while he secured the horses, and when he turned to look at her, she began to cry."

Michael paused, glancing up at the others. Jenna shifted uncomfortably in her seat, while Whitney exchanged a concerned look with Lucy.

"Khal Drogo stared at her tears, his face strangely empty of expression. 'No,' he said. He lifted his hand and rubbed away the tears roughly with a calloused thumb. 'You speak the Common Tongue,' Daenerys said in wonder. 'No,' he said again."

Michael hesitated, then continued reading. As he described Drogo's actions, the unease grew.

"He put his finger under her chin and lifted her head so she was looking up into his eyes. Drogo towered over her as he towered over everyone. Taking her lightly under the arms, he lifted her and seated her on a rounded rock beside the stream. Then he sat on the ground facing her, legs crossed beneath him, their faces finally at a height. 'No,' he said. 'Is that the only word you know?' she asked him."

I looked at them and smiled at how bothered they were by the writing.

Michael continued.

"Drogo did not reply. His long heavy braid was coiled in the dirt beside him. He pulled it over his right shoulder and began to remove the bells from his hair, one by one. After a moment Dany leaned forward to help. When they were done, Drogo gestured. She understood. Slowly, carefully, she began to undo his braid."

Michael looked up again. "Are you sure about this, Daniel?" he asked.

"Keep going," I said.

Michael continued, describing Drogo's tender undressing of Daenerys. As the scene grew more intimate, the tension in the room increased.

"His fingers were deft and strangely tender. He removed her silks one by one, carefully, while Dany sat unmoving, silent, looking at his eyes. When he bared her small breasts, she could not help herself. She averted her eyes and covered herself with her hands. 'No,' Drogo said. He pulled her hands away from her breasts, gently but firmly, then lifted her face again to make her look at him. 'No,' he repeated."

Michael nodded and continued reading, though his voice had a strained quality now.

"After a while he began to touch her. Lightly at first, then harder. She could sense the fierce strength in his hands, but he never hurt her. He held her hand in his own and brushed her fingers, one by one. He ran a hand gently down her leg. He stroked her face, tracing the curve of her ears, running a finger gently around her mouth. He put both hands in her hair and combed it with his fingers. He turned her around, massaged her shoulders, slid a knuckle down the path of her spine. It seemed as if hours passed before his hands finally went to her breasts. He stroked the soft skin underneath until it tingled. He circled her nipples with his thumbs, pinched them between thumb and forefinger, then began to pull at her, very lightly at first, then more insistently, until her nipples stiffened and began to ache."

Michael read the final part, describing Daenerys's reluctant acceptance of Drogo's advances.

"He stopped then, and drew her down onto his lap. Dany was flushed and breathless, her heart fluttering in her chest. He cupped her face in his huge hands and looked into her eyes. 'No?' he said, and she knew it was a question.

"She took his hand and moved it down to the wetness between her thighs. 'Yes,' she whispered as she put his finger inside her."

When Michael finished, there was a heavy silence in the room.

"Well," Michael said, closing the manuscript. "It's certainly... evocative."

"How old is she?" Whitney asked.

"16," I replied.

"Well, that was a very graphic rape scene, Daniel," Jenna said.

"Not something people are expecting from you," Whitney added.

"Well, she was 13 in the first draft," I said to their shock.

"What the fuck Daniel" Jenna muttered.

This was one of the major changes I made to the book. I aged up some characters, especially Dany, Robb, Jon, Sansa, and Arya. They were too young in the first book, and Martin had trouble with their ages as he wrote the series. 

I aged them all up by three years. 

I also did more world-building in the first book. George was too lazy when it came to that in the first book he only improved in the later ones.

"Well, we are glad you at least did that," Michael said, sighing.

"Daniel," Lucy spoke finally, breaking the silence since I entered the room.

"Yes, dear Lucy," I answered.

"Are you sure?" she asked, making eye contact with me.

"Yes," I said firmly.

"Fine, we will go ahead with it," Lucy said.

The editors did not seem happy.

"Can we at least read you some other parts that you should consider changing?" Whitney said.

I sighed. "Fine, go ahead."

I let them do it, but there was no way I was changing anything big.

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I got out of my car and walked toward the Dunphy residence. I was still worried as Haley hadn't responded to my texts all day. I knocked, and Alex opened the door.

"Hey, Daniel," she said happily.

"Hey, Alex. Is everything alright?" I asked.

"Yeah, everything's fine," she said.

"Haley hasn't been responding to my texts," I said, concerned.

"Oh, that. We decided not to use any electronics for the entire day. It was a bet," she explained.

"Oh, who won?" I asked, curiosity piqued.

She guided me to the living room, where Claire, Phil, and Haley were sitting. Haley was yelling, "But I won! You promised to buy me a car!"

"She won?" I asked, surprised, turning to Alex.

"Yes," Alex said, smiling. "If only she used this smarts when it came to everything else."

Haley then saw me and said, "Daniel, buy me a car!"

I looked at Phil and Claire, then turned back to Haley. "Sorry, babe, no can do."

Haley pouted angrily.

"Since you're okay, I'm going to go," I said, relieved. "Oh, and Alex, are you still coming to see my new movie with Jay and Manny?" I asked before leaving.

"Yes," Alex confirmed.

"Well, goodbye, and Haley, congratulations on winning," I said, laughing.

Haley threw one of the pillows on the couch at me, and I quickly made my way to the car and drove home.