Jane Actually

still maintained many of the clients that Janet Applebaum had suffered through thick and mostly thin, including the brilliant but reclusive writer who only wrote during leap years, and the one who continued to write ghost stories. Ghost stories were marketable when he first came to be represented by the Janet Applebaum Agency, but understandably out of fashion after the discovery of the afterlife.
    She had yet another of his proposals on her desk where he argued that the time was right for people to read ghost stories again.
Maybe he’s right in a nostalgia market sort of way,
she thought.
    She was already deep into the first chapter he had included when her email pinged to let her know she had new mail.
    Jane was spending the day at the New York Historical Society Library at 76th and Central Park West, she learned, and could easily meet her at Random House at 3:30. Melody thanked her profusely and quickly put in a call to Jeremy to confirm.
    After she hung up, she thought again,
I am Jane Austen’s agent!
She pulled the pen out of her desk and began tapping her teeth again, even faster this time.
    ...
    Melody stood outside the Random House building, nervously looking at her watch although it was only 3:05. She also checked the portable terminal she wore on her right arm and saw yet again, “No user connected.” It was set to only recognize Jane and ignore the many hundreds or thousands of disembodied roaming the streets of Manhattan at that spot.
    She walked back and forth in front of the building, stupidly worried that Jane could not see her in her bright yellow, Dick Tracy trench coat.
    “Hello, Melody,” Jane said. Melody spun around as she often did after hearing Jane’s digitized voice in her earbud, and as always was not rewarded by seeing anyone resembling a dead Regency author.
    “Hi, Jane. You’re early.”
    “I suspected you might be nervous and would wish to confer before the meeting.”
    “Nervous, why should I be nervous?” she tried to laugh lightly but she knew she failed. Luckily she knew the terminal couldn’t translate laughter, light or otherwise.
    Jane watched her agent laugh and saw the terminal translate the sound as unintelligible. She could see Melody was very, very nervous. She wished she could lessen Melody’s concerns, but she also knew Melody performed best when nervous.
    “Should we go inside?” Jane asked.
    “Yes, that’s a good idea. We can sit and talk.”
    Melody led the way and held the door open for Jane to enter. They found round couches in the lobby and after being told where Jane sat, Melody tried to hold an eye-to-eye conversation with her client. But as usual, Melody’s eyes flitted from spot to spot, trying to find something on which to focus.
    “I just want you to know there’s no big deal about this meeting. The lawyers have been over everything; I got you a … you have a very large advance, future book deals wrapped up. It’s all … good. And I told them you were in no hurry to return to writing, and they said they’re prepared to wait until you’re ready.”
    Melody was a little frustrated that she couldn’t throw in a few more colourful words to emphasize how brilliant a deal she had extracted for her client. Jane had never actually admonished Melody for swearing, but Melody always thought she detected disapproval.
    “That is very generous of them,” Jane said.
    “Ha, generous, I like that. No, I think it’s their idea to milk you as long as they can. They’re in no rush to bring another book to market. I’m sure they’ll want to re-release your books, with new forewords by you. Probably arrange tie-ins with the movie companies. Make you do the celebrity circuit. Then when the public, and I mean the larger public and not just the Janeites, are ready, they release your next book.”
    “I was being droll, Melody.”
    “Oh, sorry Jane. But you see their strategy and I think it means you can take your time writing, as long as the first book is
The Watsons
… or something like it.”
    “In other words, it has to be ‘Jane Austen-y.’”
    “Uh, yes. Which means Jane Austen can’t say things like ‘Jane Austen-y.’”
    “My, we are certainly being pernickety. But you have my complete faith and trust, and I shall do my best to prove my
bona fides
.”
    “Thanks. And that sounds more like the Jane Austen I know and love.”
    If she could have, Jane would have made a face.
    “But I shall want something from this ‘deal.’ I trust I