The Chronicles of the Literary World: The Publisher, The Writer, and The Piece of Paper

The Literary World is a complex theoretical universe which is run by many a fiend–or more accurately–three omnipresent controllers:

The Publisher, who rules the literary universe with an iron fist; the King of Crime, Monarch of Mystery, Sultan of Satire, Rajah of Romance, Head Honcho of Horror, Oligarch of Overlooked Genres. In his theoretical, majestic hands lay the key to a world every man with a plan is dying to enter.

The Publisher rules with an iron fist. He decides what is or isn’t good enough. He sets the standards. He says who is too wordy, who flounders around his point, and whoever’s managed to get it just right.

But like every ruler before him, he makes some god awful mistakes–perhaps not to the detriment of something as vast as a country’s economy, but rather, the presentation of drivel that negatively affects an entire population. He is not a god, but he sure makes decisions as though he is one. He also probably wouldn’t sacrifice himself for anyone either, particularly not The Witch Writer.

Or she. But we won’t spend time on gender specifics.

The Writer, who, when published, is given a great amount of power over the minds that choose to lend him their eyes and ears.

He has the eventual control over those who readily enter the often fictional world he has created for them, trapping them with words they struggle to forget. They become his unwitting drones, distracting them from their reality and holding them in his, be it horrible or wonderful. Their minds belong to him, until they find their own way out.

He can be evil or righteous, sometimes neither, and often both.

Or she. But we already decided not to go there.

And finally, The Piece of Paper, a magical thing that has been long romanticized. It is the portal to the world of words, used to both enter it as a Spectator of Sorts and a Mage of Mind Control, if only for a short time. It is a fickle friend, making promises it does not always intend to keep.

No gender-specific pitfall to disclaim, here.

There comes a time when we must choose whether to take the trip into this world as audience or player, or simply ignore it completely and live in our own reality. Choosing the latter is a terrible shame.

I myself have chosen to brave it as a witch.

If the piece of paper will let me through.

And the Publisher doesn’t kick me out.


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