Authorial Intent
Written for Like the Prose 2021
Edward Saville led a punctual life. Everyone knew this. It was the only way he could be as prolific an author as he was. He started every morning at 7.00 am with a morning swim in his private pool. At 7.30 AM, he would shower. At 7.45 AM, he would take his morning coffee with a banana and a sprinkle of sweetener. At 8.00 AM, Edward would sit at his computer and continue working on his next work. If all time pieces in the world lost their functionality, scientists could reset them to Edward’s schedule. He would sit and write for exactly 4 hours and, at midday precisely, he would turn off his computer and drive to his club for lunch. After lunch, Edward would share his time with fellow celebrated authors, actors, artists, musicians, members of the club and other members of society’s elite. The city has many vices to offer moneyed individuals — games of chance, boat trips, dinner parties — and Edward would partake with his friends in tow. Despite appearances from his morning ritual, Edward was not a puritan.
As punctual as Edward was, he was also incredibly protective of his work in progress. No one, not even the publisher, the esteemed Devereaux Press, ever saw a draft of the manuscript before he deemed it complete. And once Edward deemed a manuscript complete, that was the end of it. The publisher had never asked for a redraft, but if they had, they would certainly have been rebuffed with accusations of effrontery. The bosses at the publisher felt uncomfortably bound by this arrangement, but as Edward’s output had been a determinable cash cow, they had decided to let it aside until such time as that situation changed.
That time came of course. Edward took his usual bimonthly trip to the Devereaux Press building to present his latest work, “Oslo Blues”, the story of a young impoverished man who overcomes heartbreak and hunger through the Norwegian Jazz scene. He was welcomed at the door, as was custom, by his long standing partner with the publisher, Jacques Zagrade. Zagrade was tall and muscular; he looked like he could snap you in twain with his fingers; however, his henchman-like features were betrayed by his intelligent blue eyes and stylish salt-and-pepper hair. They sat in Zagrade’s office and Edward presented the manuscript and pitched the story. The pitch was perfunctory of course, but Edward enjoyed the praise he received for his storytelling. However, as Edward finished his pitch, he observed some slight changes from their usual meeting ending. Despite their natural brilliance, Jacques’ eyes were foreboding, and his body language was much less relaxed. Edward didn’t let this faze him. Perhaps they were going to ask him to make changes, well, he had an old speech prepared for that. After finishing, he waited for Jacques to say something. A few moments passed before Zagrade stared into his old friend’s face and offered him the opportunity to say anything else. Edward was a little taken aback. What could this be about? Surely they had not discovered his secret? Edward said nothing.
From beneath his desk, Zagrade pulled out a document, an exact replica of the text that Edward had brought with him. A man had come and brought dozens of copies of early drafts of Edward’s books, claiming to be one of a community of underpaid immigrant ghostwriters that Edward had collected to write his work. The Devereaux Press had, of course, scoffed at the idea and was about to throw him out when the man presented the text “Oslo Blues” as evidence; it was one thing to falsify ownership of published works, but presenting a document that was as yet unpublished and infamously unseen to anyone but Edward, well, that would be a different matter, if it turned out to be true.
Edward objected, screaming that he would find another publisher, one who would take him and his work seriously, but it was no use; Edward’s story had finally collapsed.
Edward was arrested and imprisoned, for employment law violations, while his writing team continued to create moderately successful works, though without the mystery of the prolific, punctual, affable Edward Saville, the stories lost a little charm in the eyes of the public. Many hardcore Edward Saville fans awaited eagerly for his promised prison memoirs, though they waited longer than they expected as Edward kept delaying the release date; and when they were finally released, they were terrible.
