The office is small and modest, with a window behind the mahogany desk and an overflowing bookcase to the right. There are mountains of manuscripts—some stacked neatly on the surface, some piling overtop of one another on the floor. Framed book covers line the walls, most of which, you’ve read at least twice, if not three times. You pause to stare at them when you walk in. You take a deep breath and exhale.

There are three of them here for you. An intern sits in a chair to the left. The three execs sit behind the desk. The window is open, because the room is cramped and it’s mid-summer. You wish it were cooler. The room cools down. Everyone feels it. They look around, confused, then look at you, remembering. The execs laugh. The intern smiles.

“Ah yes, indeed!” One of the execs says. He has a beard with grey hairs. He will be The Bearded One.

“Come in, come in.”

The Bearded One beckons you in. He sits in the middle. He must be the boss.

You move to the seat in front of them. You pull out your chair. One of them gets a kick out of this. He giggles. He will be The Giggling One.

The Bearded One speaks first.

“Good morning, God. How was the trip in?”

“Short,” you say. They all laugh. The last one who hasn’t moved, speaks. Shaven, dark hair, and handsome. He is the youngest.

“Hey, what should we call you? Should we call you God? Is it Lord? Father?”

The one cackles at his own humor. There is already a giggling one, so there can’t be a cackling one. You smile politely. He keeps going.

“Can I call you daddy?”

He laughs even harder. The others smile at his humor, but look at you, cautiously. You start to do something, but then remember chapter two. You continue to smile politely. He will be Daddy.

“’God’ is fine,” you say.

“So God,” the Bearded one leans across the desk with his hands folded. They are large and strong, and his shoulders are broad. You realize you were ‘on’ that day. He continues.

“We had our intern read your manuscript, and I have to tell you, I’ve never heard her speak so highly of a piece of literature.”

You look over at the intern. She stares down, hands folded in her lap. Dress shirt and dress pants. She wears a nametag that says, “Jessica.” She will be Jessica.

She looks up. You smile at Jessica. Her face, quite literally, lights up.

“So anyways,” The Bearded One continues. “We got ahold of it, all three of us read it, front to back, and we have to say, it really is something else.”

Things are going well. You feel good about this.

“Wow, that’s really fantastic to hear,” you say. The Giggling One smiles.

“Oh yeah, it truly was incredible. Let me ask you: Is that really what came before all of this? Just…”

“Yes, it’s all accurate.”

“All of it?” Daddy asks. He reclines in his chair, looking skeptical.

“Yes, every word,” you reply.

“Wow, that’s amazing,” The Bearded One says.

“Well, let me tell you, we definitely want to publish this. We think it could be revolutionary, an incredibly significant moment in literary history, and let me say this, we absolutely want to be a part of it.”

You smile real wide. The sun shines through the window. Outside, there’s not a cloud in the sky. It’s infectious. Everyone in the room lights up.

“Well that’s really great to hear,” you say. You’re starting to get excited. This is what you dreamed of. You try to keep your cool, but it’s faltering.

“I had a lot of ideas for the title,” you say. “But I think I’ve narrowed it down to one that fits the theme perfectly.” You’re sitting forward a bit in your seat now.

The Bearded One has his hands folded under his chin. He’s staring at you as if you’re the cutest thing. “Oh yeah? What were you thinking?” he asks. You continue.

“I would like to call it, “How To Love Everyone: For Starters.”

Dead silence. Everyone’s avoiding eye contact. Your words hang in the air. You wait for a response, but there is only painful silence. The air conditioner kicks in. They probably wonder if you did it. You wait for their response.

The Giggling One rubs his head nervously. He’s balding, quite significantly. Always a pity when that happens.

“We were actually thinking…”

The Bearded One cuts him off.

“We actually wanted to run our title idea by you. See what you think.”

You raise your brow, but you’re listening.

“Yes?”

The Bearded One leans towards you. He’s proceeding with caution.

“We want to call it ‘The Bible.’”

There’s another silence, but this time, you’re the gap.

“Why?” You ask.

The Bearded One opens his arms defensively.

“Well, let me tell you. You see, your idea, what was it? ‘How To Love Everyone: For Starters’? That’s really good, but it’s a bit telly, ya know, a bit ‘in your face’ with the whole point. ‘The Bible,’ leaves a bit more up for interpretation.”

It gets a bit darker outside. Everyone pretends not to notice. You speak these next words slowly.

“Well, I kind of feel as though…the point should be obvious.”

The execs look at one another. The Giggling One turns to The Bearded One.

“Do you think now would be a good time to mention…”

“No.”

“Mention what?” You ask. The outside is growing darker by the minute.

The execs exchange glances with one another. They all nod.

Daddy starts this time. “We were thinking that it might be a good idea to fictionalize a bit more.”

“Fictionalize?”

 Daddy continues. He tosses an apple up and down, watching it rise and fall as he speaks.

“Yeah, like maybe fewer philosophical…ramblings, and more story. Maybe a few less facts, a few less details about things like why we’re here, how we got here, where we’re going, and a bit more in terms of characters and events. Stuff that we can relate to, ya know?”

Daddy catches the apple, takes a bite out of it, and finishes speaking with his mouth full.

“Adding a human touch, if ya will.”

The Bearded One can see the frown on your face, so he steps in.

            “Now don’t misunderstand, we like the philosophy stuff. And I’ll be the first to say, the information about floods and the end of the world and everything is really cool, very good to know. We were just hoping you could make the whole thing a bit more…a bit more, what’s the word I’m looking for?”

“Science fiction-y,” Daddy chimes in.

“Science fiction-y! That’s exactly what this book needs. A few more science-fiction elements. Or even better, fantasy. Have you read Lord Of The Rings?”

“I have not.”

“Really? Well it’s a best seller. How about Star Wars? Have you seen Star Wars?”

“No.”

“Ah, well let me tell ya, those two stories, those are both bangers on the charts, and ya know what else they do? It’s something I think you’d respect. Let me tell you what they do. They tie theology into their narratives. They write interesting characters, they fictionalize the realities of life a bit, and then they incorporate the deep stuff. That’s what really sells.”

You have nothing to say, so you say nothing.

The Bearded One leans towards you, staring intently, waiting. The Giggling One seems excited. The intern looks nervous. Daddy looks bored. Outside, it’s very dark.

The dream is turning into a nightmare. You have to say something.

“So, you understand that this is nonfiction though, right?” You don’t feel like they understand. “I think fictionalizing certain aspects might, I dunno, maybe compromise the integrity of the whole thing a bit.”

The Bearded One gives you a really big smile and leans towards you with his hands folded under his chin. You know this pose is similar to the one he uses on his niece when he’s trying to explain a lesson to her after she misbehaved, which doesn’t make you all that happy.

“Well let me ask you, Mr. God, sir. Have you ever heard of gonzo journalism?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard of it.”

“Okay, great. Well so you know that, in this day and age, the lines between truth and fiction are blurred. Very blurred. There’s really no dishonesty in crossing those lines and letting them mix. After all,” The Bearded One looks at his colleagues, chuckling. “What is truth really, anyways?”

“I thought you read my book,” you mutter.

The three execs laugh. Jessica looks horrified. Daddy is the last to stop laughing and the first to speak.

“Look, God, Father…whatever, we’re just trying to make sure this text lives up to its potential. There’s a lot of potential here, lots of it, but it needs to be capitalized upon with some marketing conscious edits. Have you considered using a pen name?”

“A pen name?”

“Yeah, like maybe a name that’s catchy, well known, easily pronounceable. Something the people can relate to. ‘God,’ is a bit distancing.”

There is a silence. The Bearded One interrupts it.

“Have you thought about any name that you’d like to publish under…other than ‘God’?”

“No.”

The Giggling One turns to Jessica.

“Jessica, dear, do you have our list?”

Jessica leaves the room for a bit. Thunder booms in the distance.

“This weather is something else,” The Bearded One tries. The tension in the room doesn’t diminish.

Jessica comes back with the list. She starts to hand it to you, then pauses and places it in front of The Bearded One.

“Ah yes, here we go,” he says. He hands the sheet to you. You read the names on the list.

Matthew
Mark
Luke
John
Esther
Joshua
Ruth
Jonah
Micah
Samuel

“These aren’t all of them,” The Bearded One says, “but they’re all quality. And honestly, considering the length of this work, you may want to consider using multiple.”

The other execs nod in agreement.

You look up from the list, trying to hide your displeasure.

“I dunno…” you start. “I feel like people know who I am. I think ‘God’ is pretty well known.”

“With all due respect, Mr. God, sir…” Daddy says, still tossing his apple. “I think you’d be surprised.”

You look the list up and down again. You shake your head. Lightning flashes, illuminating the room. You try and control yourself. Your tone is even when you look up and address The Bearded One.

“Is that all?” you ask.

“Well actually, since you ask,” The Bearded One starts, “we were hoping you could make a few changes to the textual content, just to make this a bit more of a ‘page-turner,’ per-say.”

“What do you mean?”

The Bearded One continues. “Well, as of right now, there’s really no conflict. Now I understand that this comes from your point, your theme, or what-have-you, that peace and understanding are essential to humans’ happy existence, et cetera, et cetera. Now let me say, that was all great and everything, but—for the sake of engaging readers— we were wondering, is it really necessary that you love everybody?”

“Yes.”

The Bearded One raises his eyebrow. “Really? Everyone? We need to love everyone? What about gay people?”

“Yes.”

Daddy chimes in. “What about black people? Did you hear the news about R. Kelly?”

“Yes, them as well.”

“What about a man who was a man, but is now a woman,” The Giggling One asks.

“Everyone,” you say, feeling tired. The rain is falling hard against the windowpane.

“Hmmm…”  The Bearded One rubs his beard. “Have you thought about adding a section, maybe four or five chapters, or books as we’d like to call them, but we’ll get to that later…”

“Huh—”

“…About your son.”

“My son?”

“Yes, well you see, we figured—since we’re all your children, it might make it easier for readers to, I dunno, narrow in on a protagonist, if there were one of your children who were a little more ‘your child,’ than the rest, you know?”

“No, I don’t know.”

“We were brainstorming names, and the three of us decided that it should be either Frank or Jesus.”

“Frank or Je…what?”

“Yeah. And he needs to die.”

“Wha…why?”

“A horrible death.”

“Why is that?”

“Well now, since you ask, let me tell you: we were thinking of an October, Halloween-themed, release date. By the way, are you a fan of horror films?”

You’ve grown tired of this. The situation outside is dire. Jessica looks frightened. The execs don’t seem to care. You’re ready to go home.

“Are we done here?” You ask.

The execs look at one another. Then they look outside. The Bearded One turns back to you.

“Uhm, yeah, let me tell you what, we’ll email you the rest of the edits. How does that sound?”

“Fine,” you say. “Can I go?”

“Oh wait!” The Bearded One reaches forward as you try to leave. “Have you thought at all about a sequel?”

You stare at The Bearded One as though he were a mistake, then turn to leave. You pat Jessica on the shoulder, who still sits, shaking in her seat. You move towards the door. You take one last look at your favorite books, framed on the walls. You shake your head. You exit the room. Thunder still booms outside. You calm the storm. You hear laughter from inside the door. You leave the building.

– Joel Worford