Pandemic

Your phone alarm wakes you; //It's End Of The World As We Know It// "Cuppa?" asks mum. She hands you a cup of green tea. You take your tablets, tapping at your phone. "What are you playing?" "Pandemic. Just getting ideas for my novel." "I hate that game, I never win, it seems to go around in circles." You take the job at the Publishers. John Cleese said he would do anything for money. Perhaps you are the same. You accept the gig, because $$$. It's a disaster, you get nothing done, the virus hits & the publisher folds. You haven't written anything on months. You self-isolate, long after most of your contemporaries, and [[get down to business.]]

"No! Yes! I mean, No. I need to write alone. I'm not a social writer, if you know what I mean." "I get it, you're an introvert." "Yeah. I like to listen to music when I write, get into the zone." "What do you listen to?" "REM, old school stuff." "Never heard of them. You've got the gig. I just can't shake your hand." 6 months later. You spot a review of your book. [[Read the review]]

In your publisher's office in Sydney, on the balcony. She rolls her own cigarette, passes it to you. "We need a writer in residence. It would be perfect for you. Whaddaya say?" Do you say [[YES?]] or-> [[No?]]

"This dystopian novel, titled Pandemic, had an exciting premise, but sadly, the bizarre events of the past few months have surpassed what excitement this novel began with. It's like it died half way through, the scenario hadn't quite played out. Close, but no cigar. I'm giving it 4 out of 5 stars." You decide to [[see your psychologist]]

Psychologist: "And how did the review make you feel?" "I feel nothing at all." "And that's why you zoom called me today? Do you want to talk about your Dad?" [[Yes?]] -> [[No don't tell her]]

"He moved to China last year, 2019. I went to see him. He was talking about germ warfare, lots of crazy things." "And how did that make you feel?" "I think he was going mad." Do you tell the psychologist that you think you are patient zero? That perhaps you are responsible for the virus spreading outside of China? [[Yes tell her?]] or [[No don't tell her]]

Pandemic You go through your diary: Jan, China, Feb, Sydney, March, hoarding, stocks crash, April, police, May, military, domestic violence, June, body bags, July .. Mum pops her head in the door (live:)["Cuppa?"] "Ta" "Want to join me in a yoga session downstairs?" "No." "You've had no breakfast." "I'm fine." "Is everything ok with you? You've been very withdrawn these last few weeks." Do you [[yell at your mum?]] or [[smash your laptop?]]

You walk through the afternoon rain to your favourite bookshop. Looters have taken most of the books, but stepping over a sleeping body, you find two tomes, of possible interest: a guide to writing a sci-fi dystopian zombie apocalypse fiction, & a non-fiction about germ warfare. Which book do you choose? [[Guide to writing sci-fi dystopian zombie apocalypse fiction]] or [[Non-fiction germ warfare]]

"Repeat after me", she says "it's not your fault". "It's not my fault". "We can't choose hindsight, what's done is done." [[You go for a walk]]

You walk through the afternoon rain to your favourite bookshop, the military have long disappeared. Looters have taken most of the books, but stepping over a sleeping body, you spot 2 books. A a non-fiction about germ warfare and a guide to writing dystopian fiction. Which book do you choose? [[Guide to writing sci-fi dystopian zombie apocalypse fiction]] or [[Non-fiction germ warfare]]

"Right. Go get your mat. I want you downstairs. Now." You go downstairs. The doc is on a the screen, open on the laptop. You look at your mum."I thought you said we were doing yoga?" "The healthiest thing you can do right now is talk" says your doc. "This is all such shit." "Well just acknowledging your mental state is a plus." Do you [[bite your fingernail?]] or tear at your hair?

"Stupid, stupid boody thing!" "why would you do that? now you've got nothing. It's not like we have spare money to buy one off someone! What's wrong with you?" [[yell at your mum?]]

"Right," says the Dr. "I'm putting you 10Mg of HydroRitalin. It's not perfect, but I think right now, it's in your best interest. You'll have to pay cash, but if you have it, I highly suggest you take it. You're not well. If anything happens, just call me." Do you [[A: Take the medicine]] or [[B: Not take the medicine?]]

You write You write You write Like a woman posessed, you write. Your computer crashes Do you [[smash your laptop]] [[->decide to visit your Publisher]]

6 months later. You hallucinate on a daily basis. You are obsessed with conspiracy theories & germ wafare. American's unleashing the virus in China. You return to the bookshop. The body sleeping between the shelves stirs. You ask the elderly woman if she enjoyed the book you gave her, an advanced copy of your book, Pandemic. "It was good to begin with". "But it's like the author gave up half way." You decide you [[buy the woman some breakfast]], or [[decide to visit your Publisher]]

Your shattered laptop still works When you open the screen, you see a recording of yourself, smashing up your laptop. A voice speaks: Your fate has been dictated Do you tell your mum you [[buy the woman some breakfast]]

You go to your publisher's offices, sit on the verandah, watch her rolling a cigarette. "It was originally a genius idea, I mean, who could've predicted real life eh? Stranger than fiction indeed. And sadly, it renders everything you've written..." "I know. I just need an extension." "For what? The whole world has granted you an extension. We may not be in existance whenever it is you finish..." You go home and [[->smash your laptop?]] [[tell your publisher the truth]]

6 months pass. You spot a review on an online blog [[Read the review]]

You're waiting for coffee's at the cafe, telling the woman how you don't know java script, and it's doing your head in because, well, there's an assignment you have to finish, and your mum pulls up in her brown volvo. "Jump in", she tells you. "So you're telling me there is a global pandemic?" "Yes" "And you're personally responsible?" "Yes" "And this is part of a Uni assignment?" "Right" "And you're actually writing this on a platform, on your laptop?" "On Twinery, yes." "Well, it all seems a bit boring. Wouldn't there be a few more plot twists then? A bit more action?" [["I guess"]]

You leap onto the overhead roof beam, and issue a karate kick as you flip through the air. "Stop! Stop right now! You need to update to Twine 3.0, add more square brackets, you do know java script, yeah?" [[Lie: "Course!"]]

A lie, on top of a lie, above a lie, within a lie. When will you come clean? You decide to [[tell your publisher the truth]]

Why read the book, when you can simply look through your diary. Jan, China, Feb, Sydney, March, hoarding, stocks crash, April, police, May, military, domestic violence, June, dying, July .. Mum pops her head in the door "Cuppa?" "ta" "Want to join me in a yoga session downstairs?" "No." "You've had no breakfast." "I'm fine." "Is everything ok with you? You've been very withdrawn these last few weeks." Do you [[yell at your mum?]] [[smash your laptop?]]

"My father was patient zero," you tell your publisher. "He was living in Wuhan last year, I think he'd gone mad. He wrote the script for that film, called Contagion, about a bat that had a virus that infected the world, and I think he made it come true. He had psychotic episodes, but he covered them mostly quite well..." "Great!" she says. "This is all good stuff, are you writing it down?" "No! I'm not writing it down, I'm trying to tell you the truth." Listen we stood down our team this week. It's been so terribly sad. We're all just trying to get by. I have something that might help, but it's not to be taken lightly. She throws you a paper bag which lands at your feet. "What is it?" "Ayahusca. It'll help us see a new way forward, but it's not going to be much fun." You decide that [[Yes, you need all the help you can get. ]]

You open the bag, and [[eat it raw]].

"Now what?" "Now... you wait" She laughs. You're lying on the ground, looking up at her on her balcony, but her face is right in front of yours. You reach out to steady yourself but there is only a tree, fluttering in the breeze. "The government is tracking your every move." she is saying. "You think computers won't get a virus like this one? The worse thing is no one can win." "Is that what you think? That it's a game to be won?" "Well, yes, one meant to be for happy families to play after tea. But it's not happy." "Are you talking about Pandemic, my book? Or the board game?" But she's laughing too hard, and you have no idea how you both ended up on the roof. "You could jump, or I could, and then just press rewind and start again." "Hey yeah! Like it's 1999!" "Press Rewind!" you say. "Rewind!" She yells. "Rewind!" You reply, and just like that, you [[jump]]

You Will Never Be A Published Author END