She greeted warmly those she knew and nodded to those she only knew by reputation. After she had helped herself to some liquid holiday cheer, she found a quiet spot to observe and eavesdrop.
Inkly Noteson was in cheerful conversation with Pensy Paige. "We are being published this year! My charge has done such a wonderful job with my input. He's been a true pleasure to work with!" Inkly said.
"My assignment was so awesome this year as well," replied Pensy. "She never argued or wavered at all. She was absolutely perfect. I'm sure we'll get a contract soon."
Dottie sighed inwardly. If only she had been so lucky. She wasn't sure who she had pissed off, but she was sure someone was giggling hysterically at her misfortune.
"Dottie! How are you honey?" Great, Pensy had seen her. "How's that "work in progress going?"
Dottie smiled bravely, "Not as well as I'd hoped by this time, Pensy. The powers that be gave me a novice with her own ideas. She whines about my lack of help, then pops about the page with crap totally outside the guidelines I give her."
"Oh dear, that is too bad." Pensy was trying hard not to look pleased, she'd always felt Dottie had stolen one of her best shots at publication eons ago with that playwright, Shakespeare.
"Yeah, well I had to take some time off, she had me so stressed. I came back and you wouldn't believe the hell I got." Dottie grabbed another glass from a tray that floated by. "She has, like three different stories going. None of 'em are worth a shit, and every time I give her a prompt, she scowls and bitches about my lack of understanding."
Pensy nodded with false sympathy. "That must be just awful for you. Have you tried write blocking her?"
"Yeah, and then she wrote this whiny blog post about me leaving her abandoned."
"Wow, what a bitch." Pensy was almost starting to feel true pity for Dottie.
"You wouldn't believe!" Another glass had found it's way to Dottie's hand.
"Well, you could request reassignment, couldn't you? I mean, you've proven yourself over the years." And then some, thought Pensy to herself. Dottie had always come through with her past clients.
"I've asked more than once. They just keep ign..." Dottie was interrupted by a hand on her shoulder. She turned to find herself face to face with Thalia, one of her bosses.
"Sometimes, Dottie, one must work a little harder. Not all of your charges are Will Shakespeare or Stephanie Meyer," she said.
"But, Thalia, this one is never go..." Dottie began.
Thalia looked at the young muse sadly. When had they all become so obsessed with publicity.
"Dottie, and you too, Pensy. Sometimes, it's not about being published, or being the next Mark Twain." She sighed as she saw the confusion in their eyes.
"Sometimes it's just about the wish to Write."
I hope I didn't step to far out of the box with this one.
"The holiday season is in full swing. Thanksgiving leftovers should be gone by now, and trees are lighting up houses all over the place (or will be soon). Chances are you have some holiday activities coming as well. Some you look forward to, some you do not. Thus the inspiration for this week’s prompt.
Take it either direction, but let’s have those holiday office party stories (outside the office is fine also.) There’s a certain level of cheer or disgust that comes with the conversations during these gatherings. Make us feel it."