AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The buzz doesn’t immediately go away. In fact, it spikes when I see the quoted advance.
Fifteen thousand dollars.
Fuck, that’s a lot of money.
Thousands of dollars. I’m getting thousands of dollars.
But I’m not some teenager on his first payday. I need to be smart about this money.
So I grab a pencil and paper and start doing the math.
The contract states that half will be paid upon signing, and the other half upon submitting a final product.
Okay, so that’s seventy-five hundred now, and seventy-five hundred later. Still a good deal.
But then there’s Camila’s fifteen percent for her work as my agent.
I scratch out the equation in my notebook.
New total equals $6,375.
But, of course, can’t forget taxes. A book I read on the business of writing suggested assuming you’ll need to give at least forty percent to the government.
More numbers written out, and I find the final total.
Upon signing my contract, I’ll be making roughly three thousand eight hundred twenty-five dollars.
The number shouldn’t depress me, but it does.
This is thousands of dollars I didn’t have before.
But I guess, in the back of my mind, I’d hoped for more.
The amount isn’t even enough to pay off my father’s debt. And if that’s what I choose to do with it, I’ll have nothing, no safety cushion, if I lose my job.
In any other situation, getting close to four thousand dollars would rock my world. But in this one, frustration burns in my chest.
I was so fucking stupid. I’d had this idea that as long as I got a book deal, everything would be okay. That my life would be easier once someone was willing to pay for my writing. That I would be set.
But what I have now is an advance small enough to give me a taste, but in the end, only serve to crush my hopes.
Three thousand eight hundred twenty-five. Why the hell does that number seem so small? It’s huge. It’s multiple paychecks.
But it’s finite. Nothing to depend on. To live on.
Maybe all the time I spend writing, I should instead be filling out job applications. Doing something that’ll result in more than three thousand eight hundred twenty-five.
The money isn’t even in my hands, and I’ve already spent it. The total is zero.
I’m worthless. Nothing to be proud of.
I’m still staring at the contract when my phone dings. There’s a stray hope that it’s my agent, texting to tell me someone left a zero off the contract.
But the name flashing on my phone isn’t Camila’s.
And for the first time, I’m not excited to see a message from my librarian.
That is until I open it and can’t help smiling at her ridiculous text.
