Publishing

And that’s how the rainy season came and went - Natsuki got her groove back. She typed away at her computer, shooting for her daily dose of words. She hit it most days, but on the days she didn’t, she at least got some writing done. On nights without baseball games, she found herself less interested in her phone and television and more interested in her writing. Even on Sundays - the built-in day off from the daily writing schedule - Natsuki found herself in front of her computer anyway, typing away.

The days came and went, soon turning into months. The cherry blossoms of April were long gone now, washed away by the rains of May. And, in turn, the rain clouds disappeared, leaving a bright blue sky in their wake; the June sun smiled down upon Miyazawa.

As Natsuki walked home from the train station on a Friday evening, she almost had to stop for a second. The time was evening, of course, but the sun still shone brightly above her, showing no signs of stopping for the day.

I forgot it could still be this bright out this late in the day. That’s summer for you.

Summer! It was Natsuki’s favorite season, and not just because her name meant summer. The trees and bushes were at their full green, flowers were plentiful and colorful, and the days just seemed to last forever. To put it simply - living was easier in summer.

Unsurprisingly, Natsuki had a bounce in her step. Summer automatically put her in a good mood, but the events in today’s club session put her in a super duper good mood. She thought fondly on the events of about an hour ago with each step.

“Ta-da!” Yumiko exclaimed during that day's club session, holding up her exam grades.

Natsuki gasped. “Wow, nineties across the board!”

Yumiko crossed her arms proudly. “As obvious as it sounds - I’m a golden child.” She raised a hand. “For discipline!”

Natsuki high-fived her. “For discipline! I've been working hard on my homework to get it out the way so I have more time to write, so my scores are improving, too. Eighty-four is my new personal record on an exam!”

Yumiko popped a party popper formerly hidden in her uniform. She spent the next thirty seconds apologizing to Natsuki, who instinctively hid below her desk in fear.

“Not good with sudden noises?” Yumiko asked.

Natsuki let out what could only be described as a sad, pitiable whine. She relaxed at the sight of Masako's hand reaching out to her; she daintily took it in her own and got back to her feet.

“How did you do on your exams?” Natsuki asked.

Masako, who had kept quiet this whole time, just let out a sigh to indicate something like well, that’s life. “Let’s just say I’ll have to attend make-up sessions.”

Yumiko wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “If you ever need any tips from your former Acting President, let me know.”

Masako rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah…definitely not changing subjects here, but how’s your writing going, Natsuki?”

That definitely did change subjects because Natsuki’s eyes lit up. “As of last night, I completed five whole chapters!”

Masako gave Yumiko a manga-style smack when she produced another party popper. “Wow, that’s great. That’s about ten thousand words, right?”

Somehow, Natsuki had never realized her volume of writing in those terms. Her eyes widened as she felt the sunlight shining on her through the club window. “Wow, ten thousand words…how many words have you guys written?”

An arrogant look took over Yumiko’s face. “Well, not to take a collective shit on everybody here, but I can do around ten thousand words a week.”

For once, Yumiko seemed to realize her haughtiness and went to encourage Natsuki, but she found her junior gasping. “That’s amazing! I didn’t know you could write so fast! What about you, Masako?”

Masako, who had kept quiet this whole time, just let out another sigh to indicate something like well, that’s life. “I used to be able to do that, too. I haven’t really written anything in a whole while, though.”

Natsuki felt a little bad now, asking something like that, but Masako strode over to the board, ready to introduce today's topic. “Alright, Natsuki, now’s the time to move onto the next phase.”

She went to write, but for a brief moment, she caught the faded remnants of writing on the board that seemed to spell out PISS. She glanced back at her fellow club members, who simply acted nonchalantly, with Yumiko even whistling.

Deciding to ignore it, Masako wrote PUBLISHING on the board. “It’s time to let the whole world know of your writing!”

The Vice President clapped in support. Visions of Yumiko’s success flashed across Natsuki’s mind, making her nod vigorously. “I’m ready! I have issues showing my writing to people I know, but I don’t know anybody on the internet! Hooray for anonymity!”

As Yumiko kept clapping, Masako explained the situation. “It’s not a bad idea to publish on all possible sites, but it’s important to know the cultures of each website. Your Time Cop story is pretty inspired by anime, right? Then you’d see the most receptive audience on WebWriters.net.”

Natsuki raised her hand. “Receptive?”

“Each website will have its own sort of audience,” Yumiko explained. “WebWriters.net is big on anime-style writings.”

“It’s the smallest site though, so while you will get views, it might not be the most overall,” Masako continued. “Next would be PencilArchive.com. They’re big into anime too - well, when you really think about it, all these websites, even web novels themselves, were pretty inspired by Asian media. But more specifically, PencilArchive likes gender-bender-”

When Natsuki raised a hand, Yumiko whispered into her ear the definition. It was surprisingly tame, but Natsuki’s face still went a little red.

Yumiko patted her on the back. “It’s alright, Natsuki. You’d be a pretty boy.”

“Moving on,” Masako cut in. “They like gender-bender and…” She looked at Yumiko and sighed. “~Romance.”

Yumiko let out a low growl. Natsuki decided she still didn’t want any further elaboration on that.

“Then you got Notepad, which by far has the most stories and viewers,” Masako said. “It’s really easy to get drowned out there, though. The audience there likes stories about romance and young adult style books - things like werewolves and urban fantasy. They even have stories about real people there.”

Yumiko grinned. “I posted a story about Masako and I there once-”

In a flash, Masako grabbed both of Yumiko’s collars and hoisted her into the air, her face burning red. “I told you to NEVER bring that story up!”

As Natsuki watched the life drain out of Yumiko, she decided against asking for elaboration on that as well.

Masako set Yumiko down and dusted herself off. She caught her breath and the smile returned to her face. “And lastly, you have Persepolis. This one has a good balance of popularity and exposure. But that site is big on video game-style stories and a constant stream of updates. In general, you probably have the best chance of getting views there-”

The rest of Masako’s words - something about how Time Cop and its slow updates and genre not exactly fitting there - completely whistled past Natsuki. All she could think about was views. Views, popularity, making it big, being invited to speak on a podcast, things like that.

An odd feeling rose within Natsuki as thoughts of fame and glory buzzed in her head. Before writing, she had never even considered things like that. They just never seemed possible, nor did she have any interest in it. But now that she had a creative hobby - something that could theoretically get views, something that could spawn internet forums and fanart, something that could make her become a household name - fame entered her head.

And, since she never dealt with this feeling before, she couldn’t possibly realize how few writers actually achieved success like that. That naivety was why she walked with a skip in her step on her way home that Friday evening - her success seemed like a sure thing. And honest-to-God inevitability, even.

“I’m home!” Natsuki declared as she entered her apartment.

Fuyuki, who got out of her softball club early on Friday’s, was already setting the table. “Welcome back. Was club good today?”

“You know it!” Natsuki answered, undoing the ribbon to her uniform.

By now, Fuyuki knew that Natsuki’s reason for focus was writing. That, and the name of the club sort of gave it away. “Is your writing going well?”

“I wrote ten thousand words!” Natsuki exclaimed. “Club President Masako says that’s enough to publish soon!”

Fuyuki clapped for her. “That’s great! You'll have to let me read it sometime!”

Natsuki continued yelling out to her sister as she got changed in her room. “Once it's published, I promise you can read it! You see, Masako said I could take it easy with the daily writing this weekend. Next week, we’re going to edit and publish the story!”

“That’s amazing!”

A half hour later, Natsuki finished eating. “You know what’s really amazing? Your cooking. I don’t know how you do it, Fuyuki.”

Fuyuki rubbed her face a little, not wanting to show the automatic blushing that came with praise from her older sister. “I usually make dinner. I just got better with it over time.”

“Same with writing!” Natsuki reached over and ruffled Fuyuki’s hair. “Your my favorite sister, you know that?”

“...thank you, Natsuki…but I’m your only sister.”

..........

A few hours later, as Fuyuki slept soundly in her nearby bed (they shared a room), Natsuki was at her computer. She heard that some people had issues reading their own writing, but right now, Natsuki loved every word, all ten thousand of them. Each one was written by her. She made something out of nothing.

As she sat there in her desk, Natsuki felt another feeling she had never felt before - pride. Before writing, what did she have that she could be proud of? Of course, there were things - being a good sister, working hard in school, even her old fanfiction writing - but feeling pride in those would come to her later on in life. Right now, her first feeling of pride came from her words on the screen.

But, since this was her first real experience with pride, she wasn’t aware that she was about to go a little overboard with it. It wasn’t arrogance per se - just inexperience with her own craft. She thought everything was ready.

And she wanted those views.

She pulled up WebWriters.net on her computer. She saw herself looking at a pleasant-looking yellow-colored website. A few featured stories popped up with anime-sound titles and covers. A cover? Natsuki hadn’t even considered a cover. But then she found some without them and decided that could be a later problem.

She took a look at the most recently updated stories. “Views…20,000!?” she exclaimed, then remembered that her sister was sleeping. 

“20,000?” she repeated at the same level of astonishment, just at a quieter decibel. “25,000…50,000…wow, all those people…looking at my story…”

She recalled Masako’s claim that WebWriters would be her most receptive audience, but she also recalled her mentioning that the best bang for your buck was Persepolis. She pulled that up next; a more mystical-looking webpage greeted her. She found the section with the most popular stories…

She nearly fell out of her seat. “20…20 million? 12 million? That’s a dozen Miyazawa’s worth of people looking at your story…”

Her eyes hovered toward the create an account button, the promising option to “Write” listed right below it.

Natsuki took a good look at the ceiling. Just for a moment. Then she grinned and clicked that button to create an account.