Just like magic: The story of Harlee Bingham

As Ria realized that she has gained nothing from abandoning all of those she cared about, her surprise turned to anger, 

and those wide eyes that Simon looked into so deeply the first time that they had met narrowed sharply at him. Ria gave off a gutteral yell as she punched Simon square in the jaw causing his vision to flash

as his head snapped to the side. Before Ria could even follow through with the hit she shrieked and Simon felt her punch stop abruptly.

Simon looked back, and Ria was gone.

With the power he gained from the ritual, he had accidentally thrown Ria out of existence;

now, he was alone with the infinite void.

"That last part sounds kinda cuss," Harlee says to himself as he began to end his first professional novel.

"Ah, I can reword that!"

...out of existence; from then on, it was just him.

Him, and the infinite void that enveloped him.

"Better. Now onto book two!"

Harlee sighed as he looked around his room.

"...Good Lord, this is hard."

Looking back over his story notes, Harlee worried that he might have made the premise a bit too over-the-top when he sold the idea to the local publisher.

He was new to writing after all, and the task of writing a series-starting story is a big hurdle to overcome even for professional writers.

It was his dream to make this story and he was damned if he wasn't going to go through with it now. 

Five days remaining before the publishers come.

"I should have gotten an editor. I haven't even looked over a single page since writing them!"

The cuckoo clock Haa-Hooed once, its sound preceeded and succeeded by clanking old chains being pulled to power the bird and its whistle. Harlee decided to go to sleep.

Four days remaining.

Harlee read through the entirety of the book soon after he woke up, leaving his half-eaten cereal on the table to warm till supper. Reading every word as single words and every sentence as single sentences, he found no grammatical errors.

"I didn't need an editor, there's nothing wrong with what I've written! It looks perfect."

Three days remaining.

Looking over the way he wrote down the story again with a wider eye for subtle detail, Harlee realized that it didn't have a clearly defined tone.

"Cuss, this is terrible. What am I even trying to get across with this? Am I really so dead set on setting up the next book that I forgot to make this one good? Cussing cuss, man! I need to change everything! I knew I should have gotten an editor!

That guy over at publishing went off when I mentioned that my 35 ACT showed how well I could concentrate on the details. On the writing part I got a six! Even out of twelve that's not good!

It's literally ok. What a moron! He should have never let me take this job without an editor! Hell, he shouldn't have even let me in the door! This is cuss. Cuss on the walls and the ceiling, this won't work."

Two days remaining.

"I am not going to be able to do this. 

I can't do this. 

I have no way to get this good enough in time.

It's terrible.

The characters are cuss and the plot is cuss and I shouldn't have tried to make a story I came up with when I was cussing 12... or something, I don't cussing remember when I came up with it!

Half of the characters seem like a ripoff of the old submachine flash games, there's even a tie in to hindi gods, just like in the submachine! Well... no, there isn't, but both of them have indian religion references. Whatever.

I should just call this whole thing off."

The cuckoo clock went off thrice before Harlee could get to sleep that night.

One day remaining.

"Ugh, maybe I can pay someone to edit it for me. I wonder if the faster workers are cheaper by the hour because its easier for them, or if they are more expensive by the hour because they're better at it. Is anyone willing to read through an entire book

seven to thirty times within two days for any amount of money? Of course there is! Money can buy anything from someone. But will I have enough? No, probably not. I'll see if I can find a person willing to do it anyways."

By the time the cuckoo clock rang 12 times, Harlee realized that nobody would be up who had any business editing a book.

The day that the publishers come.

"Well, there's no backing out now. If they reject the book I can just change it some and send it in again. Cuss, maybe a different publisher might take it, instead! I just have to keep trying: 

Only by having my nose to the grindstone can I keep the wheat from burning!"

At 1:30 p.m., after printing the final revision of the book, Harlee received a knock on his door. A man in a business suit with a briefcase introduced himself and asked for the manuscript, which Harlee gladly handed over. The man wished Harlee good luck with the book, but the manuscript into the briefcase, and left.

Finally, the stress was over.

Newsday.

A few weeks later, Harlee got a letter from the publisher. Opening the letter, Harlee looked at the first word of the body paragraph and nearly collapsed in relief. The letter read:

Dear Harlee Bingham,

Congratulations on finishing your first novel! You're skills as a writer are exceptional. 

Your book will be published as soon as the manuscript can be processed.

Personally, I can't wait until you write a sequel: The story is fantastic.

Regards,

Penn G. Win

CEO of Group Publishing Company

P.S.

Although the manuscript has been accepted, you forgot to send a title in with it. Please reply with one ASAP so we can get to work!

Because of how lucky he felt, and because of everything that lead up to this point in his life, Harlee knew exactly what to name his book.

Just Like Majick: The Story of Simon Lee Semaj became a popular book among many, and got itself a whole series of books to follow it.

After a few years, an animated movie was created from the first three books. Directed by a crafty man known for making things with heart and vision

and made with the consultation of the book's author, the movie gained a cult following. Harlee Bingham became a happy man, having told the story of his soul.

Some would say that the first book had a bit of a depressing ending, and Harlee would agree, 

but he would add that he thought the shift in tone that occurred in the second book when Simon reconnected with Ria after repeating the ritual 

had offset the darker nature of the first. 

Either way: Just like magic, the stressful points in both Harlee's and Simon's lives had a turn for the better in the end.