Writer: (enthusiastic) Hey, guess what? I’ve got a new book for you.
Editor: (blowing smoke rings into her single malt to make it peaty): Fiction?
Writer: Yes, it’s…
Editor: Fiction’s not selling these days.
Writer: Actually, what I was about to say is that it’s got a great story but is non-fiction.
Editor: Oh, pity. Non-fiction’s doing worse.
Writer: Oh?
Editor: Got any historical fiction?
Writer: Funny you ask. I’ve done this ton of research on the Taj Mahal...
Editor: Could you make it Sci-Fi? Like all these new-fangled dystopian novels?
Writer: Let me get this straight. You want History ... but set in the future?
Editor: Yeah, like Shah Jahan meets Captain Kirk to fight Klingons or something along those lines? You could call it Star-e-Treknama, maybe?
Writer: Well...
Editor: Forget it. We’ll think of something else for a 2022 release. We’ve got a slot open.
Writer: No, let’s do Star-e-Treknama. No problem.
Editor: Can’t guarantee that it’ll sell, you know.
Writer: But – then why do it at all?
Editor: What we need is a foreword by Sir Ed. That’ll do it!
Writer: Er ... who’s Sir Ed?
Editor: Sir Edmund Sidebottom, that’s who. C’mon, he’s the guy who pretty much invented the Taj.
Writer: So that’s that, then. We’re doing Star-e-Treknama with a foreword by Lord Edward Frontbottom.
Editor: Yeah ... but who’s going to get him to do it?
Writer: You, right?
Editor: It won’t be nice if I ask him. Professional ethics. I’m sure you understand.
Writer: How, then?
Editor: You could go to LLF, meet him and ask him. He’s quite sweet that way.
Writer: What’s LLF?
Editor: It’s the Ladakh Literary Festival, silly.
Writer: Okay.
Editor: One more thing. Sir Ed is currently partial to girls dressed in Punjabi bridal finery. So, go as one, okay?
Writer: But ... I’m a bearded, 47-year-old hypothyroidal Kannadiga male with gout. How do I pull that off?
Editor: You’re a writer, aren’t you?
Writer: I suppose.
Editor: Then use your secret weapon. Imagination.
One month later...
Writer: (triumphant) I got it! I got it!
Editor: (taking a large drag from her hookah) Got what?
Writer: The foreword. From Count Backbottom. For our futuristic historical fiction book Star-e-Treknama. Remember?
Editor: Oh, that?
Writer: Yes, that! Do you know what I went through to get it? I lost a big toe to frostbite, escaped a molestation bid by Topbottom and got into a – how shall I put it – Biblical-type situation with a yak in musth. And you say ‘oh that’?
Editor: Listen. You’ve got to calm down, okay? See what I’m dealing with here. Two of my bestselling authors killed each other at an awards ceremony, my husband has suddenly enrolled for kathak lessons and our company is on the verge of being taken over by Heedlock Tinmar.
Writer: But aren’t they into weapons of mass destruction?
Editor: Exactly. Now whose situation is worse? Yours or mine?
Writer: I’m terribly sorry. I do have nine good toes left and, to tell you the truth, the yak was gentle. I shouldn’t be cribbing. So ... what do you suggest?
Editor: Got any non-fiction?
Writer: YES, that’s exactly what I came to you with the last time we met! Don’t you remember?
Editor: Pity.
Writer: Why, why? In heaven’s name, why?
Editor: Because non-fiction is selling like crazy.
Writer: Isn’t that a good thing?
Editor: No! Not under the present circumstances. With the Heedlock Tinmar takeover bid in the offing, we need books to fail. Monumentally. That’s the only thing that’ll thwart those bastards.
Writer: I’ve had it! See you. I’m going with Dinky-Donk Books. They said they’d publish my love story. The one I wrote on my phone. While in the bathroom on account of the terrible constipation I’ve had since the Ladakh trip.
Editor: What’s it called?
Writer: Well, if you must know, it’s called Is It or Is it Not?! Tell Me, Na...Jaanu, Quickly!
Editor: I’ll kill you if you give it to anyone else. (on the phone) Accounts, make a cheque out to ... how do you spell your name?
Krishna Shastri Devulapalli is the writer of the novels Ice Boys in Bell-Bottoms and Jump Cut. He is willing to pay a small reward to anyone who can put him in touch with his editor.
Editor: (blowing smoke rings into her single malt to make it peaty): Fiction?
Writer: Yes, it’s…
Editor: Fiction’s not selling these days.
Writer: Actually, what I was about to say is that it’s got a great story but is non-fiction.
Editor: Oh, pity. Non-fiction’s doing worse.
Writer: Oh?
Editor: Got any historical fiction?
Writer: Funny you ask. I’ve done this ton of research on the Taj Mahal...
Editor: Could you make it Sci-Fi? Like all these new-fangled dystopian novels?
Writer: Let me get this straight. You want History ... but set in the future?
Editor: Yeah, like Shah Jahan meets Captain Kirk to fight Klingons or something along those lines? You could call it Star-e-Treknama, maybe?
Writer: Well...
Editor: Forget it. We’ll think of something else for a 2022 release. We’ve got a slot open.
Writer: No, let’s do Star-e-Treknama. No problem.
Editor: Can’t guarantee that it’ll sell, you know.
Writer: But – then why do it at all?
Editor: What we need is a foreword by Sir Ed. That’ll do it!
Writer: Er ... who’s Sir Ed?
Editor: Sir Edmund Sidebottom, that’s who. C’mon, he’s the guy who pretty much invented the Taj.
Writer: So that’s that, then. We’re doing Star-e-Treknama with a foreword by Lord Edward Frontbottom.
Editor: Yeah ... but who’s going to get him to do it?
Writer: You, right?
Editor: It won’t be nice if I ask him. Professional ethics. I’m sure you understand.
Writer: How, then?
Editor: You could go to LLF, meet him and ask him. He’s quite sweet that way.
Writer: What’s LLF?
Editor: It’s the Ladakh Literary Festival, silly.
Writer: Okay.
Editor: One more thing. Sir Ed is currently partial to girls dressed in Punjabi bridal finery. So, go as one, okay?
Writer: But ... I’m a bearded, 47-year-old hypothyroidal Kannadiga male with gout. How do I pull that off?
Editor: You’re a writer, aren’t you?
Writer: I suppose.
Editor: Then use your secret weapon. Imagination.
One month later...
Writer: (triumphant) I got it! I got it!
Editor: (taking a large drag from her hookah) Got what?
Writer: The foreword. From Count Backbottom. For our futuristic historical fiction book Star-e-Treknama. Remember?
Editor: Oh, that?
Writer: Yes, that! Do you know what I went through to get it? I lost a big toe to frostbite, escaped a molestation bid by Topbottom and got into a – how shall I put it – Biblical-type situation with a yak in musth. And you say ‘oh that’?
Editor: Listen. You’ve got to calm down, okay? See what I’m dealing with here. Two of my bestselling authors killed each other at an awards ceremony, my husband has suddenly enrolled for kathak lessons and our company is on the verge of being taken over by Heedlock Tinmar.
Writer: But aren’t they into weapons of mass destruction?
Editor: Exactly. Now whose situation is worse? Yours or mine?
Writer: I’m terribly sorry. I do have nine good toes left and, to tell you the truth, the yak was gentle. I shouldn’t be cribbing. So ... what do you suggest?
Editor: Got any non-fiction?
Writer: YES, that’s exactly what I came to you with the last time we met! Don’t you remember?
Editor: Pity.
Writer: Why, why? In heaven’s name, why?
Editor: Because non-fiction is selling like crazy.
Writer: Isn’t that a good thing?
Editor: No! Not under the present circumstances. With the Heedlock Tinmar takeover bid in the offing, we need books to fail. Monumentally. That’s the only thing that’ll thwart those bastards.
Writer: I’ve had it! See you. I’m going with Dinky-Donk Books. They said they’d publish my love story. The one I wrote on my phone. While in the bathroom on account of the terrible constipation I’ve had since the Ladakh trip.
Editor: What’s it called?
Writer: Well, if you must know, it’s called Is It or Is it Not?! Tell Me, Na...Jaanu, Quickly!
Editor: I’ll kill you if you give it to anyone else. (on the phone) Accounts, make a cheque out to ... how do you spell your name?
Krishna Shastri Devulapalli is the writer of the novels Ice Boys in Bell-Bottoms and Jump Cut. He is willing to pay a small reward to anyone who can put him in touch with his editor.
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