Nested Dreams II
This is a sequel to the original Nested Dreams posted by Balakrishnan S in his blog site 'Sunrise in the West' which can be viewed here
A frequent reader, which I am of his posts, this post in particular appealed to me. An idea squirmed out of the deep recesses of my brain, on which (for a change), I have acted upon.
Looking at how the story is playing out in my head, this sequel will be completed in four chapters. Chapter One, is posted below.
Thank You.
Arvind R
Saturday, 28 January 2012
Nested Dreams II
Chapter One.
As he walked towards the reception of GC Publications, the attractive female behind the desk gave him a smile of recognition. Dressed sharply as usual, Rahul confirmed that the party had already started on the terrace. Nevertheless, he paused at the desk, exchanged words with the receptionist, at the end of which Rahul walked with a small piece of paper with a phone number in his pocket, and the receptionist, whose cheeks were bright red.
He navigated through the corridors exchanging pleasantries as he went by to reach the terrace, which was somehow transformed into a formal party area with some intelligent lighting and of course the poster behind the dais revealed the party to be a celebration of a book launch. A scowl appeared on Rahul’s handsome face as he scanned the crowd; stopping one of the employees, “Have you seen Rob around?”
“I believe he is in the conference hall with some other guys” Rahul thanked the guy and almost skipped to the conference hall; where he promptly got pulled in to a conversation with one of the big-wigs of GC.
“Hello there, Rahul. Just the man I wanted to see.” said a man with a sharp nose and gleaming blue eyes. He was Alan Westrope, the big fish of GC.
“Mr. Westrope, Always a pleasure”
“Now when this young man came in here saying that he has a man who can finish this fantasy series; I was a bit skeptical; I mean it is one of our best known publications. But his guy did it!”
“I agree Alan. I’ve heard the assistants to Mr. Selwyn were not able to tell the difference!”
“Thank You very much gents, but I have an author to save before he makes a fool out of himself” he took leave.
Matthew Robert Smith was chatting with some of the assistants across the room. His hair was shaggy, his eyes straining to remain open and a glass of bourbon in his hand, which spilled over when he explained something with a flourish.
Rahul quickly walked over to them and, apologizing, pulled Rob away and, out of earshot.
“You do know that is how the author of this fantasy franchise died right?” Rahul whispered as he pulled the glass out of his hands and placed it on a nearby table
“The job is done. Could you please put a stop this excessive drinking?”
“Right-o” said Rob “Could you fetch me a cab? I am extremely bored and somewhat drunk”
While navigating Rob to the elevator, Rahul called a cab.
“You should receive a package by tomorrow afternoon. Please don’t run off anywhere before then. I’ve just spoken with some guys at Owen and Marley, and it got me thinking, how we have not yet taken a stab at the Horror genre? What do you say; shall we give it a try then?”
“Horror you say?” Rob pondered “I don’t know Rahul”
“All I’m saying is that there is no harm in trying. You were the one that wanted a change”
“I was thinking of change as in ‘learning to play the guitar’ kind of change, not this. This is work!”
“Just have a look at it would you?” Rahul insisted “We can always reject it if you do not want to”
He smiled grimly as he read the article about an author’s mysterious death, in a log cabin, deep in the secluded mountainous regions of Montana. The article went ahead to mention some of the dreadful details involving the position and the status of the author’s body at the time it was found.Rob held in his hand a dossier labeled Mr. Michael Harper. He moved to the study, as he read the article. Once finished, he set the dossier aside and poured himself a glass of bourbon. He took the dossier to the couch, and once he was comfortable, started going through its contents.
Further to the article from the Great Falls Tribune, there was a detailed bio on Mike Harper and a printed manuscript entitled ‘Nested Dreams’. He proceeded with the bio first. Harper was the author of five novels, out of which three were in the horror genre. This guy took privacy to a whole new level. He would always sever contact with everyone when he was working on a novel, preferring remote isolated areas like a log cabin or an off-season hunting lodge. There was also once, when he stayed in a monastery in China, when he was working on his second novel. He was well traveled; it seemed he was the point of contact for isolated cabins throughout the world. Mike never talked about his writing with his relatives, friends or even for that matter his editor. He would one fine day call up his editor with a manuscript.
That explains his first three novels coming from three different publishing houses. Rob thought.
He also made sure that he left no recordings or plot notebooks lying around, for anyone to discover what he was up to. Mike was an editor’s nightmare, so to speak, although they had more colourful names for him. He was not a novelist of the big leagues, no bestsellers under his belt; however his writing boasted of a modest fan base, especially for his contribution to the horror genre.
After reading through the bio on Mike Harper, he set down the dossier, poured himself another glass of bourbon and walked to the balcony, his thoughts on Mike Harper and his puzzling death in Montana. However, there was one thing which still nagged at his mind, was the fact that why a cynophobe would come anywhere near the cabin, which was famously known as a wolf spotting territory?
The tinkling of the ice against the glass pulled him out of his thoughts. He downed the bourbon in one gulp and stood there looking at the night sky. As if on cue, the moon appeared from behind the clouds to acknowledge him and bathed him in moonlight.
The next day, Rob went out and bought all the books written by Mike Harper and, on the very same day finished the first two novels which was of the non-Horror genre. It took him little over a week to finish his analysis of the three horror novels. It was not as if the horror novels were big, they were ordinary novels of a little over three hundred pages, except for the last one which went on to equal both the first two horror novels put together.
The first two novels, were your usual run-of-the-mill horror, with chills, twists and gore spread throughout the novel. Mike Harper’s work was middling, with a latent promise of brilliance. His third novel however, piqued his curiosity; entitled ‘Genjitsu’ which meant reality in Japanese. The amount of detail written used to move the plot along,was astonishing; more often than not, this would have vexed the reader’s interest in the book. However, it all seemed to fit somehow as he read along.
There were cases, where there was overabundance of detail, according to Rob was not necessary. It got him thinking why these portions were not abridged. It was the same with the characters in the story as well. Rob agreed that details were necessary, however only the amount necessary for imagination and the inference to move the plot forward.
Like this one case wherein the protagonist notices a maroon discoloration in the hand of one of his patients, there was no use of it anywhere else in the book. The only rationalization for that would be either it got missed out by both the author and the editor, or that this was to be used in a sequel; the latter seemed much more probable. And Rob knew the only way to authenticate that.
He searched the dossier and retrieved the unfinished manuscript of that would have been Mike Harper’s fourth horror novel, ‘Nested Dreams’. Unfortunately, this would be Harper’s last work. Incomplete, yet more than 350 pages long, it dawned on Rob that he would be in need of more bourbon. With a new bottle at his side, he started reading Nested Dreams.
He gulped down the last ounce of bourbon from the bottle; he put down the manuscript and went searching for a new bottle in his bar, at the same time contemplating upon his findings. If Genjitsu was in line with The Matrix, Nested Dreams was something along the lines of Inception. Yet both novels were different and in the horror genre. However, if Nested Dreams was to be published as planned, it would have been the other way around. He returned to the settee with a new bottle in hand and, at the same time making a mental note to replenish the bar.As he finished the first glass, his cellular phone vibrated on the coffee table. It was Rahul.
“Hey Rahul.”
“I haven’t heard from you for over two weeks after you confirmed you received the package.”
“Oh yeah, I have been totally working.”
“Liar; You sound drunk.”
“Maybe, I am.”
“If you are so bored, why don’t you go through the dossier I sent you?” Rahul half yelled, clearly annoyed. “After all I went through to get you something interesting.”
“Ah. But it is.”
“What?” asked Rahul, confused.
“Interesting, that is. I have gone through the dossier. This guy is a bit complicated.”
“Will you be able to do it?” Rahul asked, impatient. “We need the same quality that you put in Selwyn’s Fantasy series and Baroque’s memoirs.”
“Have I ever disappointed you?” and before Rahul could answer, “Wait. Don’t answer that.”
“Well?” Rahul asked “How much time would you need?”
“As I said, this guy is complicated. I would need a year minimum.”
“Whoa back up there. A year is too long.”
“And I will not be able to work on anything else.”
“Any other bombs you would like to drop on my head?”
“We still have the money we made on ending Selwyn’s fantasy epic.”
“Guess so. That might be able to finance your research, because Owen and Marley are sure as hell not going to pay you an advance, if you are going to take a year and, to top it off, we have an author you yourself claim to be rather complex.” Rahul sighed. He knew there was no changing him once he was like this.
“You know, if it was a matter of months," Rahul continued, "I could have made Owen and Marley shell out a hundred and fifty or more."
“Go harass your other authors!” Rob chuckled. “Oh. And Rahul, I would need you to set up some meetings and, make the following arrangements.”
Rob and Rahul went through the details on the phone, which lasted about an hour; after which, Rob gulped down another glass of bourbon and settled down to read Mike Harper’s uncompleted manuscript, again.
Nested Dreams; fascinating. he thought, smiling.
As he walked towards the reception of GC Publications, the attractive female behind the desk gave him a smile of recognition. Dressed sharply as usual, Rahul confirmed that the party had already started on the terrace. Nevertheless, he paused at the desk, exchanged words with the receptionist, at the end of which Rahul walked with a small piece of paper with a phone number in his pocket, and the receptionist, whose cheeks were bright red.
He navigated through the corridors exchanging pleasantries as he went by to reach the terrace, which was somehow transformed into a formal party area with some intelligent lighting and of course the poster behind the dais revealed the party to be a celebration of a book launch. A scowl appeared on Rahul’s handsome face as he scanned the crowd; stopping one of the employees, “Have you seen Rob around?”
“I believe he is in the conference hall with some other guys” Rahul thanked the guy and almost skipped to the conference hall; where he promptly got pulled in to a conversation with one of the big-wigs of GC.
“Hello there, Rahul. Just the man I wanted to see.” said a man with a sharp nose and gleaming blue eyes. He was Alan Westrope, the big fish of GC.
“Mr. Westrope, Always a pleasure”
“Now when this young man came in here saying that he has a man who can finish this fantasy series; I was a bit skeptical; I mean it is one of our best known publications. But his guy did it!”
“I agree Alan. I’ve heard the assistants to Mr. Selwyn were not able to tell the difference!”
“Thank You very much gents, but I have an author to save before he makes a fool out of himself” he took leave.
Matthew Robert Smith was chatting with some of the assistants across the room. His hair was shaggy, his eyes straining to remain open and a glass of bourbon in his hand, which spilled over when he explained something with a flourish.
Rahul quickly walked over to them and, apologizing, pulled Rob away and, out of earshot.
“You do know that is how the author of this fantasy franchise died right?” Rahul whispered as he pulled the glass out of his hands and placed it on a nearby table
“The job is done. Could you please put a stop this excessive drinking?”
“Right-o” said Rob “Could you fetch me a cab? I am extremely bored and somewhat drunk”
While navigating Rob to the elevator, Rahul called a cab.
“You should receive a package by tomorrow afternoon. Please don’t run off anywhere before then. I’ve just spoken with some guys at Owen and Marley, and it got me thinking, how we have not yet taken a stab at the Horror genre? What do you say; shall we give it a try then?”
“Horror you say?” Rob pondered “I don’t know Rahul”
“All I’m saying is that there is no harm in trying. You were the one that wanted a change”
“I was thinking of change as in ‘learning to play the guitar’ kind of change, not this. This is work!”
“Just have a look at it would you?” Rahul insisted “We can always reject it if you do not want to”
He smiled grimly as he read the article about an author’s mysterious death, in a log cabin, deep in the secluded mountainous regions of Montana. The article went ahead to mention some of the dreadful details involving the position and the status of the author’s body at the time it was found.Rob held in his hand a dossier labeled Mr. Michael Harper. He moved to the study, as he read the article. Once finished, he set the dossier aside and poured himself a glass of bourbon. He took the dossier to the couch, and once he was comfortable, started going through its contents.
Further to the article from the Great Falls Tribune, there was a detailed bio on Mike Harper and a printed manuscript entitled ‘Nested Dreams’. He proceeded with the bio first. Harper was the author of five novels, out of which three were in the horror genre. This guy took privacy to a whole new level. He would always sever contact with everyone when he was working on a novel, preferring remote isolated areas like a log cabin or an off-season hunting lodge. There was also once, when he stayed in a monastery in China, when he was working on his second novel. He was well traveled; it seemed he was the point of contact for isolated cabins throughout the world. Mike never talked about his writing with his relatives, friends or even for that matter his editor. He would one fine day call up his editor with a manuscript.
That explains his first three novels coming from three different publishing houses. Rob thought.
He also made sure that he left no recordings or plot notebooks lying around, for anyone to discover what he was up to. Mike was an editor’s nightmare, so to speak, although they had more colourful names for him. He was not a novelist of the big leagues, no bestsellers under his belt; however his writing boasted of a modest fan base, especially for his contribution to the horror genre.
After reading through the bio on Mike Harper, he set down the dossier, poured himself another glass of bourbon and walked to the balcony, his thoughts on Mike Harper and his puzzling death in Montana. However, there was one thing which still nagged at his mind, was the fact that why a cynophobe would come anywhere near the cabin, which was famously known as a wolf spotting territory?
The tinkling of the ice against the glass pulled him out of his thoughts. He downed the bourbon in one gulp and stood there looking at the night sky. As if on cue, the moon appeared from behind the clouds to acknowledge him and bathed him in moonlight.
The next day, Rob went out and bought all the books written by Mike Harper and, on the very same day finished the first two novels which was of the non-Horror genre. It took him little over a week to finish his analysis of the three horror novels. It was not as if the horror novels were big, they were ordinary novels of a little over three hundred pages, except for the last one which went on to equal both the first two horror novels put together.
The first two novels, were your usual run-of-the-mill horror, with chills, twists and gore spread throughout the novel. Mike Harper’s work was middling, with a latent promise of brilliance. His third novel however, piqued his curiosity; entitled ‘Genjitsu’ which meant reality in Japanese. The amount of detail written used to move the plot along,was astonishing; more often than not, this would have vexed the reader’s interest in the book. However, it all seemed to fit somehow as he read along.
There were cases, where there was overabundance of detail, according to Rob was not necessary. It got him thinking why these portions were not abridged. It was the same with the characters in the story as well. Rob agreed that details were necessary, however only the amount necessary for imagination and the inference to move the plot forward.
Like this one case wherein the protagonist notices a maroon discoloration in the hand of one of his patients, there was no use of it anywhere else in the book. The only rationalization for that would be either it got missed out by both the author and the editor, or that this was to be used in a sequel; the latter seemed much more probable. And Rob knew the only way to authenticate that.
He searched the dossier and retrieved the unfinished manuscript of that would have been Mike Harper’s fourth horror novel, ‘Nested Dreams’. Unfortunately, this would be Harper’s last work. Incomplete, yet more than 350 pages long, it dawned on Rob that he would be in need of more bourbon. With a new bottle at his side, he started reading Nested Dreams.
He gulped down the last ounce of bourbon from the bottle; he put down the manuscript and went searching for a new bottle in his bar, at the same time contemplating upon his findings. If Genjitsu was in line with The Matrix, Nested Dreams was something along the lines of Inception. Yet both novels were different and in the horror genre. However, if Nested Dreams was to be published as planned, it would have been the other way around. He returned to the settee with a new bottle in hand and, at the same time making a mental note to replenish the bar.As he finished the first glass, his cellular phone vibrated on the coffee table. It was Rahul.
“Hey Rahul.”
“I haven’t heard from you for over two weeks after you confirmed you received the package.”
“Oh yeah, I have been totally working.”
“Liar; You sound drunk.”
“Maybe, I am.”
“If you are so bored, why don’t you go through the dossier I sent you?” Rahul half yelled, clearly annoyed. “After all I went through to get you something interesting.”
“Ah. But it is.”
“What?” asked Rahul, confused.
“Interesting, that is. I have gone through the dossier. This guy is a bit complicated.”
“Will you be able to do it?” Rahul asked, impatient. “We need the same quality that you put in Selwyn’s Fantasy series and Baroque’s memoirs.”
“Have I ever disappointed you?” and before Rahul could answer, “Wait. Don’t answer that.”
“Well?” Rahul asked “How much time would you need?”
“As I said, this guy is complicated. I would need a year minimum.”
“Whoa back up there. A year is too long.”
“And I will not be able to work on anything else.”
“Any other bombs you would like to drop on my head?”
“We still have the money we made on ending Selwyn’s fantasy epic.”
“Guess so. That might be able to finance your research, because Owen and Marley are sure as hell not going to pay you an advance, if you are going to take a year and, to top it off, we have an author you yourself claim to be rather complex.” Rahul sighed. He knew there was no changing him once he was like this.
“You know, if it was a matter of months," Rahul continued, "I could have made Owen and Marley shell out a hundred and fifty or more."
“Go harass your other authors!” Rob chuckled. “Oh. And Rahul, I would need you to set up some meetings and, make the following arrangements.”
Rob and Rahul went through the details on the phone, which lasted about an hour; after which, Rob gulped down another glass of bourbon and settled down to read Mike Harper’s uncompleted manuscript, again.
Nested Dreams; fascinating. he thought, smiling.
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