The Devil's Advocate

Ambrose Stirling (POV)

…

"So…"

"Hn?"

"It's good." 

All I got was a deadpan from my son.

"Good? Really? T-that's all you have to say? You are Ambrose Stirling; you've produced over 30 feature length films… and 'good' is all you have to say?" He narrowed his eyes at me. "Mind elaborating a bit?"

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding in, "Well, it's really impressive Ricky. Amazing to be honest. I'm very, very proud of you. But you have to know, this… area is not really my expertise. I've made movies sure, but my job is to finance them, take care of the backstage issues that crop up, handle negotiations and all that. I'm not exactly known for my creativity. And I have read a sum total of five fantasy novels. Four of them were by Tolkien and this", I pointed at the computer screen, "is my fifth. It's well written sure, and the plot is really engaging."

"But…?" 

"But I don't have any idea whether this will be well received by nerds around America. Not to mention the snobby book reviews that will undoubtedly follow. I'm not saying don't publish this. In fact, I can get you in touch with a few publication houses, provide legal aid, etc. But before that, I recommend showing this to an actual author. A tried and tested writer who has published fantasy novels." 

A dim silence followed. I looked at his face, and tried to gauge his inner thoughts on the matter.

Damn it.

It's moments like these that I regret teaching him the 'poker face'. 

After a few seconds spent stewing in tranquillity, I finally speak up, "Ok so, I'll ask around and get in touch with a known author, it'll take few days but-"

"No."

I visibly recoil in shock, "I'm sorry, what do you mean no?"

He turned towards me and opened his mouth, "I said no. I get your point. You're in no position to comment on the book. You lack experience as well as expertise in this front. But here's where you misunderstand." He walked away from the table towards the full-length window and proceeded to open it.

"I didn't make you read it to gauge how good it is. I KNOW it's good. It's solid. I'm not here to get your help in connecting me to some author to get his opinion on this. I don't need to. I came to you cause I wanna publish it. And you can help me there." He finished with a smile; his eyes gleamed as they caught the sunshine.

It started out slow. I began chuckling slowly and steadily as I comprehended his words. It wasn't long before the room was filled with sounds of my raucous laughter.

Then Ricky started chuckling, which just made me laugh harder and harder, until both of us were cackling.

Sigh. Like father like son I suppose. Like me, he too has a contagious laughter, and like me in my younger days, he too has an uncompromising attitude.

I always knew he was self-confident but to this extent? Huh, it seems college helped him in more ways than one.

After getting the last few chuckles out I spoke up, "Listen kiddo, I can't believe I'm doing this but sure, why the hell not? I will ignore the fact that you disregarded my advice. Frankly I couldn't give a damn about that. I'll take a shot in the dark here with you. If you succeed, then good enough. No one will be prouder than me." 

I let that sit for a few moments before continuing, "However, if you fail, if the book doesn't garner the reception you think it will… I guess we'll address that when–sorry IF… if it happens."

MC (POV)

Daddy dearest had one crazy ass grin on his face back then. I have a feeling the 'when' wasn't a vocab slip. He definitely did that on purpose.

And do I take offence to that? Do I whine like a little bitch about how daddy doesn't believe in me?

Hell no.

I'm not even remotely worried about the book's reception. Why would I be? I mean, it's Neil Gaiman! The guy was a literary genius. Nearly every novel, short story, or comic he penned opened to rave reviews and sold out like hotcakes.

His works had been adapted into feature length films and television series to great success and the guy himself worked as a scriptwriter in a limited capacity.

And American Gods was an absolute classic which won all kinds of awards after its release and had sold up to a million copies in its subsequent years. Granted there have been better novels published, but this is as good a starting point as any. 

Plus, in a way, this is more of an experiment. Because I'm not just typing the book out verbatim and passing it off as mine. Well yes, I am, but I have made several changes to it.

Not the plot, I didn't change that all. The multiple storylines meeting at the end to form a cohesive picture was one of the best aspects of it. But after analyzing it thoroughly, there were a few facets that I felt could use a much-needed revamp of sorts.

First of all, I had to erase any references the characters made in the novel which pertained to the OTL (Original Time-Line). They were extremely minor to be honest, but I can't have people asking any hard to answer questions when I inevitably become famous. 

Second, the pacing. The story is great no doubt, but I felt the middle part to be relatively dragging when compared to the first few chapters and the final conclusion arc. The pacing was slower, and for good reason, because the art of world-building, and developing its characters will take some focus off the story. Most readers will immerse themselves completely in the complexity, but I know for a fact that quite a few fiction readers prefer a faster plot.

I had to edit a good chunk of the story and shifted the order and nature of several character interactions to make it slightly more fast paced. And I took another major decision pertaining to the novel's sales.

I looked back to the common criticisms faced in OTL and realized that while a majority of the reader base enjoyed the ambiguity of certain plot threads that Gaiman left open to interpretation, a small vocal minority found it frustrating and wanted more concrete answers to the questions that remained unanswered.

Some of them being, Shadow Moon's true nature, why exactly were the gods becoming vulnerable gradually and losing their powers, and concept of 'essence of belief'.

Gaiman apparently enjoyed playing with reader's thoughts, and so left all of the above concepts extremely vague in nature.

So, I plan to… release a companion piece. 

Essentially a short 50-page novella, expanding even more on the world building, but this time explaining all concepts with short anecdotes. Original short storied typed out by yours truly. Frankly I'm more worried about its reception than that of American Gods.

After all, it will be a test of whether I can succeed not just based on my meta-knowledge, but rather due to the skills I have developed and knowledge I have incorporated in this lifetime with the help of the game.

Whether I've truly got what it takes, I suppose I'll know the answer in a few weeks, a month tops. 

…

…

Samuel Preston (POV)

"Very well, permit me to succinctly recapitulate for the collective clarity of all parties involved. The proposed publishing agreement, while adhering to conventional standards in most respects, shall undergo select modifications. Consensus has been reached with respect to the stipulations pertaining to the 'Grant of Rights,' 'Manuscript Delivery,' and the 'Royalty' provisions, as delineated herein. Pertaining to the emendations sought by my client for his and, to be candid, the mutual benefit of all concerned, they encompass the retention of both copyright and proprietary rights pertaining to the subject matter, inclusive of all prospective subsidiary rights contingent upon the novel's performance. Furthermore, my client shall wield absolute editorial authority over the ultimate draft. Does unanimity prevail on these points?" 

I take a second to catch my breath as the dour fellow sitting opposite me with clenched fists, flexes his jaw in irritation.

After a few moments in silence, he finally speaks up, "Mr. Preston, I unequivocally agree on all aforementioned stipulations except one. Clause 16-A, the subsidiary rights section. Forgive me for being blunt, but your client Mr. Stirling is a… novice. This is his first literary text ever. I apologize but our publishing house always shares subsidiary rights with the author in question. Relinquishing complete control in this scenario is, to be frank, without precedent." Mr. Piso said, thinning his lips. Yeah, there is a snowball's chance in hell he'll show flexibility on this front.

Frankly I'm having difficulty wrapping my head around the fact that Richmond predicted this. I knew he was a smart lad, going to college at 14 and all, hell even foraying into writing. 

But to anticipate this exact outcome based on a minute's interaction with Mr. Piso here, you don't see that every day. Or frankly, any day. When he proposed his modus operandi for this 'meeting' I was half expecting him to be an ignorant airhead. I've never been gladder to have been proven wrong in this case.

"Well then Mr. Piso, it seems we are at an impasse." I pause for a second before continuing, "But it seems that favorable arrangements have been anticipated. My client expresses a willingness to apportion subsidiary rights under the stipulation that the royalty rate escalates to 20% for paperback editions and that he preserves one minor subsidiary right. He shall retain complete authority in the production of an audiobook."

Piss boy practically jumped out of his chair the next second, "Done! We are amenable to the proposed changes." He rattles off as a drop of sweat rolls down the side of his brow.

Damn… he was under far more stress than he revealed in our little 'discussion'.

Probably because of the pressure from higher ups regarding my high-profile client. 

I don't blame him really. The name 'Ambrose Stirling' does carry a significant amount of weight after all and any and all business associated with him… sigh. 

I can definitely relate to Piso.

Speaking of Ambrose Stirling…

"Is it finally over? We reached a consensus, right?" Richmond butts in unceremoniously from behind.

I clear my throat before speaking, "Ahem, yes. We are done here. As you can see, the contract has been drawn up and only needs to be signed and notarized. So, in essence, I offer my heartfelt congratulations to you Richmond. Your book will hit the shelves soon enough."

His tensed-up face finally relaxes, as he stands up and proceeds to shake hands with Piso. 

"Good to know Mr. Preston." He says after piss boy walked out of the conference room with a hurried pace, "shall we go then?"

"Oh yes, let's get going. I believe you need to be escorted to your college, right? Can I offer you a ride?" I ask, knowing he's going to reject my insincere offer. 

"Thank you for the offer Mr. Preston but my ride awaits downstairs as we speak. Please call me Ricky though." His face displays a small grin

"Only if you call me Sam."

"Sure, Sammy."

"Uhm, I said Sam."

"You got it… Sammy." Cheeky little bastard. "I'll get going then." He said before exiting through the doorway.

I glance at the wall clock to see…

3:41

Oh, fucking hell. I gotta make it back to the firm in rush hour traffic in 15 minutes to attend the associates moot court. Priscilla will have my hide otherwise…

I think as I rush past the door and sprint past Ricky to make it to the lift in record time. 

Sigh, here's to hoping I make it back in time.