It was four in the morning. Doug had insomnia again, and found himself, as usual, watching nostalgic kid’s movies. As the years went by this made him sadder and sadder. Once he did this for his own benefit, he missed his childhood years. But now, he found himself missing the times when all he cared about was his past. Now he found himself worrying greatly for the future.
The man had never told anyone, not even his brother, but he longed deeply to have a child of his own. He had to be content with babysitting the devil’s daughter, since an orphanage would never give a man like him the opportunity to raise a child of his own. Despite his good intentions, everyone feared, if ever given a child, he’d break it.
Doug found himself, zoning out. Even most cartoons couldn’t keep his attention anymore. He sat now in a blank white office with only his desk to keep him company. The man grasped a pen in his tentative fingers and wrote.
“Dear Mr. Devil,
Hey again. It’s just me. I’d like to renew my contract with you. Spending time with your daughter made me think of something. Due to all the pandering worthlessness directed at kids nowadays, I feel like I need to change that. I know you can help me.
So this month, I’d like to sell my soul for the ability to write a great children’s book. I don’t necessarily mean a profitable or successful children’s book; I mean a great one with actual heart. I’ll illustrate it, too, but we both already know I can draw, so I needn’t ask for a package deal. It needs integrity and a story that isn’t manufactured.
I just feel this is something good I can do, you know. I don’t trust myself with a human child, no one else trusts me either, but I feel they need something, so this is how I can connect.
It may seem weird, but you’re actually a nice guy, man. I’m glad to call you my friend.
I think I have a character idea: it’s about this creature. He’s half platypus and half bunny and he knows everything, and I mean everything- he knows what’ll happen, but he isn’t like God or anything. He’s flawed. I don’t know, it might be a dud, but that’s why I’m renewing my contract...
But the platypus-bunny has glasses so he’s teased. Well, he’s teased for lots of reasons, but that’s the main one.
No, that’s an awful idea! See, that’s why I can’t do it on my own.
I suppose they say, “be careful what you wish for”. They also say “don’t sell your soul to Satan” but it’s too late for that! But I digress. I suppose I’ll say what exactly I want in a story, lest you try your trickery on me.
1. An interesting story that isn’t too cliché and speaks of something thus far fairly untouched by children’s media like misogyny or cultural appropriation or something.
2. Interesting characters, more specifically interesting female ones. I sick of every female supporting character being the love interest. My platypus-bunny or whatever should definitely have some female friends.
3. A voice far better than my own. I cannot be angry at everything, especially in writing a children’s book. I need to make something that fills people with the joy I so hope for.
I think that’s all I can think of, but I trust you. I know I probably shouldn’t, but I’ve trusted far better people than you, and it resulted in far worse.
I know I’m not really a writer, so this is an odd request. And yeah, I would make a kid’s movie, but I had a disturbing dream of sorts, wherein all my movies were failures; I can’t afford remembering that right now. So a book is how I want to do this.
I mean, I remember how much I loved children’s books. My brother Rob used to read to me every day; that was the best time of my life. Now when I find myself reading to your daughter, those are the best moments of my recent life. I want more of those moments.
Please, I really think I can do something worthwhile this way. I would give much more than my soul for this.
-Doug.”
He folded up the sheet of paper he had scrawled upon and slid it into the pocket of his jeans. He continued to the living room to find an envelope. There instead he saw his brother sitting about to start reading a book. Doug grabbed a notebook from beside the couch.
“Rob?” he began, being nostalgic over his own past for once, as apposed to universally recognized childish things. “Are you just starting that book?”
“Yeah.” Said his brother. “Why? Don’t you dare spoil it for me like you did with the last one!”
“No, never.” Said Doug coyly.
“What, then?” Rob snapped.
“Can you read it to me like when we were younger?”
“What? Why?” Said Rob, confounded. “We’re grown men!”
“Aww, C’mon… you can do voices and shit!” Doug pressured, sitting down cross-legged in front of the massive armchair where Rob sat.
Rob saw the big dorky smile that had spread across his brother’s face.
He begrudgingly agreed, “Fine.”
The older brother began reading ‘Dance With Dragons’ from his own throne. Doug sat enchanted, with notebook in hand. He wrote: “Dragons! There should definitely be dragons in my story!”
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