Instead, it’s an email from ‘jsanchezpoetguy.’Jordan?It has to be.
Subject: Just… read it?
Attached is a link to a Google Drive folder. No message body or explanation. Nothing to make me believe it’s actually him.
I take a screenshot and send it to him.
Me:Is this really you, or will this link eat my phone?
Jordan replies instantly.
Jordan:It’s safe, I promise.
Okay. Still, it’s weird that he didn’t give me a heads up.
I click the link to find three documents. The thumbnails offer no help, since it’s just a white background with illegible text. But the file names make my stomach flip.
‘TheSkyDividedPart1’ and ‘TheSkyDividedPart2.’
No way.
Jordan sent me his manuscript? Or manuscripts? As in plural? The third file is simply titled “Poems.”
I click the first manuscript, and it opens to a 500-page document, reading:
The Sky Divided
By Jordan Sanchez
I clap a hand over my mouth. It really is his novels!
I skim the first page, too in shock to actually absorb it. A second later, I call him. He connects the video call right away, smiling big.
“Hey.” He says it so casually, like he didn’t just drop a literary bomb in my inbox.
I get up to pace. “Are you for real right now? Are these your novels?”
“Yeah. I’ve been going through them the last two weeks. Just tightening some things up. Weeding the commas out. You know, that sort of thing. But yeah. Thought you might like them.”
“Jordan!”
He lowers his gaze, like he’s embarrassed. “I wanted your opinion. Charlie has been rearing his bald head lately, so I’ve been brainstorming the last book. And truthfully? I thought it might help you. With the shift transition, I mean. Thought you could read them when we can’t talk.”
I stop pacing, my heart lurching in my chest.
I must look like a complete idiot, because Jordan laughs. Like, really laughs. And it’s like someone opened the windows in my soul.That sound.I’ve missed it. I’ve missed him like this.
“Is there anything specific you want me to look for when I read it?”
“No. Just enjoy it. Keep me updated with where you’re at and let me know what you think. I have a developmental editor lined up for October, but I thought—”
“Wait a minute. What? You have aneditor?”
He grins. “Did I not mention that?”
“No! Damn, Jordan. This is a big deal.” He’s always talked about Charlie like the story was some far away dream. Something he was never sure he’d get back to. And here he is, jumping in.
He looks away again. “It’s kind of frustrating; I have to start the whole process again. The agent I had before is no longer in the business, but yeah. I’m not giving up this time.”
