Page 63 of The Write Midlife

"As you can see, we're facing a crisis of confidence among our most valuable assets—our authors."

A murmur traveled through the room. Nate pressed on, outlining their new approach to author relationships and creative control. With each point, he could see the board members' expressions shifting from skepticism to intrigue.

"By implementing a tiered system of creative control, we not only empower our authors but also create a more diverseand innovative catalog of titles," he explained, clicking through slides that showcased potential new revenue streams.

He was just getting into the meat of the proposal when his father's voice cut through the room like a knife.

"This all sounds very... idealistic, Nathaniel," he said, his tone dripping with skepticism. "But how do you propose we maintain quality control if authors have free rein?"

Nate took a deep breath, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He had anticipated this objection.

"Excellent question, Dad," he said, injecting a note of enthusiasm into his voice. "We'll implement a peer review system. Authors helping authors, fostering a community of excellence. It's not about giving them 'free rein'—it's about collaboration and mutual respect."

Another board member, Victoria, leaned forward. "And what about our relationships with film studios? They'll balk at these restrictions."

Nate nodded, clicking to the next slide. "Actually, we believe this approach will make our properties more attractive to studios. Unique, authentic storytelling is what audiences crave. By preserving the integrity of our authors' visions, we're creating more valuable intellectual property."

The room fell silent as the board members mulled this over. Nate could see the wheels turning in their heads, weighing the potential risks against the possible rewards.

Then his father spoke again, his voice low and dangerous. "This is a radical departure from everything Carlisle Publishing stands for, Nathaniel. We've built our success on a proven model. Why risk it all on some... experiment?"

Nate felt a flare of anger in his chest, but he forced it down.

"With all due respect, Dad," he said, his voice steady, "what Carlisle Publishing stands for is excellence in literature.Innovation. Respect for the written word. This proposal doesn't abandon those principles—it reinforces them."

He turned to address the entire board. "Look, I know this seems risky. But the publishing world is changing. If we don't adapt, we'll be left behind. This isn't just about one author or one book. It's about positioning Carlisle Publishing as a leader in the industry for years to come."

Victoria raised an eyebrow. "You seem very passionate about this, Nate. Any particular reason?"

Nate felt a flush creeping up his neck, thinking of Melody. "Yes, actually. My work with Melody Archer has opened my eyes to the untapped potential in our author relationships. Her creativity, her willingness to push boundaries—it's made me realize how much we're missing out on by sticking to the old ways."

His father shifted in his seat at the mention of Melody's name. "Ah yes, Ms. Archer. Again.”

Nate bristled at his tone. "Disruption can be good, Dad. It leads to growth, to innovation. Melody's book has the potential to redefine the romance genre. And with this new approach, we can nurture more authors like her, more groundbreaking works."

The room fell silent again. Nate could see the board members exchanging glances, intrigue and apprehension on their faces.

Finally, an older board member, Harold, spoke up. "It's an interesting proposal, Nate. Risky, certainly, but potentially very rewarding. What do you suggest as a next step?"

Nate felt a surge of hope. "A trial run," he said quickly. "With Melody's book. Let's implement this new approach on a small scale, see how it performs. If it's successful, we can gradually roll it out across other titles and authors."

His father leaned back in his chair, his expression thunderous. "And if it fails spectacularly?"

Nate met his gaze, refusing to be intimidated. "Then we'll have learned valuable lessons about what works and what doesn't in today's market. Either way, we come out ahead."

The board members began to murmur among themselves. Nate stood there, his heart in his throat, waiting for their verdict.

After what felt like an eternity, his father cleared his throat. "All in favor of approving a trial run of Nathaniel's proposal with the Archer book, raise your hand."

Nate held his breath as hands began to rise. One, two, three... he counted silently, his pulse racing.

When the final hand went up, he had to resist the urge to whoop with joy. It was a majority—not overwhelming, but enough.

His father's voice was tight as he announced, "The motion passes. Nathaniel, you have your trial run. Don't make us regret this decision."

Nate nodded, trying to keep his expression professional despite the elation bubbling up inside him. "Thank you, board members. I promise you won't regret this."

As the meeting adjourned, board members filed out, some stopping to congratulate him or ask follow-up questions. Nate answered them all on autopilot, his mind already racing with next steps.