Part Five: Names

Some part of me was rebelling. “You never do this,” it was saying. “Never. Why start now?”

“Because I may burst with curiosity if I don’t,” I replied.

The rebellious part of me considered this. “Nah. I don’t think so.”

“I’m doing it anyway,” I said.

“You’re not sure about that.”

Blast me for knowing all my secrets. “I’m going to,” I replied firmly. “Kindly shut up.”

The girl was packing up, still scowling a little. “Excuse me,” I said, rather quieter than I had meant to.

She glanced over.

“Hi.”

“Hello.” She looked a little surprised.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I got bored with the lecture and read a bit of what you were working on.”

She flushed. Oops. “I liked it,” I said hurridly. “I’m a fantasy reader, and from the bit I read, I’d like to read your book.”

“Not in its current state, you wouldn’t,” she said, but she looked a little less embarrassed.

“Have you been having trouble with it?”

“Yeah.” She finished putting her laptop away, zipped her backpack, and stood up. I followed her example as she continued talking. “I do first drafts really easily, ‘cause with the first draft, anything goes. But then I have to use my other drafts to fix the major problems of the first, and usually that isn’t nearly as much fun.”

“What draft are you on?” I asked, following her to the door of the classroom. This ‘conversation’ stuff wasn’t nearly as hard as I’d thought.

“Third,” she said. “For some people, that means they’re starting to get to the polishing stage. I’m still making huge changes. I was stuck a couple of days ago, until I added another character – though now I have to re-write most of the book. She’s a somewhat important character. I don’t know how I managed to get this far without her, but now that she’s here, I’m dreading the work I have to do to fit her in.” She sighed. “And I have no way of knowing if she’ll be the last huge change.”

Well then. Now there’s only one missing piece to the puzzle. “My name’s Kate, by the way,” I said.

She smiled. “Kate. I love that name.”

“Really? I think it’s kinda plain.”

“Not all names need to be exotic.”

“Even in fantasy?” I remembered that her characters had mostly normal names.

“Even in fantasy. Oh, and I’m Kendra.”

I grinned. Jackpot. “Your name is much prettier than mine.”

“If you say so.” She shrugged, but she was still smiling. “Where are you off to?”

“Just lunch,” I said. “You?”

“FA building. I’ll see you in class.”

“See you.”

And I would. Having found her, there was no way I was going to give up the opportunity to become better acquainted with Kendra Sondson, eventual author of Red-Nosed Dragon.

Part One: Existing
Part Two: Frustrated
Part Three: Wondering
Part Four: Writer

Part Four: Writer

The girl next to me in class was distracted.

Normally, I would be too distracted myself to notice, but trying to keep my mind off of the mysterious book had resulted in one of my first efforts to pay complete attention to the lecture.

She, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be paying the least bit of attention. She was staring intensely at her laptop screen, sometimes typing, sometimes scrolling, sometimes clicking, always looking a little unhappy. Her notebook was left neglected, with a pen lying across it as if she meant to try to take notes.

Her laptop was slightly turned in my direction. Sitting forward, I could almost see what she was writing. I casually leaned back, lightly tapping my pen on my notebook, trying to act as if I was still listening to the lecture.

Ah. Now I could see what she was writing.

And it was very, very familiar.

Part One: Existing
Part Two: Frustrated
Part Three: Wondering
Part Five: Names

Part Three: Wondering

I was right. This was the book, the very same book, that I had read before. The title, the cover, the characters, the author, the setting, the magic system - all was the same. So why hadn't the employee found it on the computer? Why hadn't I found it in my trawls on the internet?

Well, I suppose things can exist even if they aren't on the internet, even in these days. And sometimes there were mistakes with inventory.

But...

Something seemed wrong.

I tuned the book over in my hands, inspecting the pages and the cover. It all seemed normal, but something was missing... ah ha! The back cover had no bar code! It must be some sort of preview copy... a preview copy that didn't say it was a preview copy? I checked the covers and the first few pages - nope, no indication that it was a preview copy.

Then what was it?

Feeling oddly guilty, I took the book to a chair instead of a register. I was afraid they'd take the book away from me if I tried to buy it, and I had to read the ending. I flipped through, trying to find my place. It had been in the middle of chapter seven somewhere. Or at least I thought it had been. Seven seemed familiar, but I didn't remember reading the scenes it contained. And there was a character I didn't remember at all. Curious, I skimmed backwards, trying to find where this new character had come from

It wasn't until chapter three that she was introduced, but I knew I had read further than that. How had I missed an entire character, specially one that was in every other scene or so? What had this supporting lead come from?

I turned to the front of the book and read the first paragraph, holding my breath. It was how I'd remembered. As was the next paragraph, and the next... I relaxed as I read, feeling better now that I recognized everything. Until I hit chapter three where that new character was introduced. What was that?

I wandered back to the fantasy shelves and put the book back. Right now I was too confused to worry about never knowing the ending.

Part One: Existing
Part Two: Frustrated
Part Four: Writer
Part Five: Names

Part Two: Frustrated

I was getting more worried every moment. I couldn't find the book. I'd tried Googling the title, the author; I searched archives of books old and new; I even tried variations - maybe that employee had been right, and I really hadn't had the title and author correct.

Nothing.

So either it was a dream, or I was going insane. Neither option really appealed to me, though the first was considerably better than the other. But how could that happen? I'd read the book. I had held it, flipped through it, read half of it, and then had run off to class with the firm idea of coming back when I had time and money to buy it and finish it. It had been a rather good book, too; fantasy, but not cliché; there was originality put in to the magic system, the characters, the plot. Thank heavens that was becoming a slightly more common occurrence on the fantasy shelves.

And the writing had been good, too. Not amateur as some books seemed to be, not outright bad as a certain couple of series that Must Not Be Named were, just good writing with original ideas and great characters and...

Blast! I really needed a new book to read, and I wanted to finish this one! I had left at a good part, just when the main character was about to start this master plan of his.

Oh, well. Back to the bookstore. Perhaps I would find something else. I mean, the place was full of books; surely I'd be able to find one to interest me? A part of me grumbled about never finding the ending of the other, but I tried to ignore it. Never mind that I'd never been able to leave a book alone, even one that Must Not Be Named, until I knew how it ended. Never mind how loose ends and as-yet-unobtained goals haunted my mind.

I winced at entering the bookstore - there were, as had there been for months now, entire displays dedicated to the few books of the Must Not Be Named variety. How could these monstrosities take up all this space when better books were stuffed spine-out on out-of-the-way shelves? They should be ashamed, books, authors, and book shelvers alike.

I idly wondered if the non-existent book I wanted had somehow voluntarily disappeared, unwilling to share the same space with those that Must Not Be Named.

I made my way to the fantasy shelves, as usual, taking care to avoid the information desk and any employees. Salespeople frighten me, especially when they want to sell me something I desperately want to buy. Once to the shelves I put on my 'absorbed' face, which usually kept people from talking to me, and scanned for something good. Something great.

There were a few that looked interesting. I pulled one out and glanced at the cover.

Wait a minute... I thought this book didn't exist!

Part One: Existing
Part Three: Wondering
Part Four: Writer
Part Five: Names

Part One: Existing

"I'm sorry, miss; that book doesn't exist."

I stared at the bookstore employee. "Wha - what do you mean? It has to exist! I read it!"

"Are you sure you got the title right?"

"Yes! I remember the cover, clear as day!" I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. No one was going to want to help me if I became hysterical. Not to mention that getting hysterical over a book was a little odd.

It seemed he was trying very hard to stay absolutely polite. "We don't have any record of it. Are you sure you saw it here?"

"I'm pretty sure..." I was suddenly horrified. It hadn't been a dream, had it? Me seeing the book here?

"I suggest you do a bit of research online. If you find it, come back and we'll be happy to order it for you if we can."

"All right." I walked away feeling very odd - embarrassed by how I had reacted, yes, a good deal embarrassed, but also wondering. How could a book that I was so sure I'd read be non-existent?

Part Two: Frustrated
Part Three: Wondering
Part Four: Writer
Part Five: Names