//------------------------------//
// 4 - Random Penguins 
// Story: The Unpublished Origin of Daring Do 
// by David Silver 
//------------------------------//

"This feels familiar." There she was, on a couch, in the sun. The couch wasn't as plush, or as new. There was a secretary, but they were a bird, a penguin to be specific, slapping at a keyboard with its fins. Someone had trained a bird to do what a secretary did?

The phone ringed and the penguin jumped before leaping at the phone, knocking it off its base and emitting a loud buzzing honk into it. A.K. couldn't hear what reply came if any, but the bird buzzed and warbled a different noise, nodding. There was a pause, then it honked and hung the phone back up.

The bird returned to its seat and resumed slapping at the typewriter as if that was entirely normal. Had that been a pony? Did they have any idea what was being said? A.K. inclined her head, one ear skewing a moment before folding back into her mane. "Busy day?"

The penguin nodded softly, but didn't look at her, occupied in its slapping.

A face peeked in from just behind the penguin. "Send in Miss Yearling." It was a stallion of bright whites and deep blacks. Their coloration wasn't that far off from the bird that worked the desk.

The penguin looked up to Amy. A single and simple honk was all it had to offer.

A.K. slid to the floor, her bag bouncing a little with her trot towards the door the face had vanished back into. "Wish me luck." A single honk with a warbly pitch being the only response she got before she was through the door into a small office with papers everywhere.

Behind a simple desk was that po... that was not a pony. He was a hippogriff and it become easier to see they had other colors.  She blamed it on boredom that she had just jumped to conclusions. He had bright yellow stripes in his mane going backwards and his claws, hidden by the desk the first time, were also bright yellow. At the moment they were holding a thick collection of papers, her papers.

"Miss Yearling," greeted the hippogriff. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Mister Wing. But you can call me Ping Wing if you prefer." He tapped the desk with the stack of papers, clacking softly with paper against wood. "I was reading over your book again."

"Good day, Mister Wing." She hopped up onto a seat facing the desk and settled down. It was wider than the last, allowing her to sit properly. "Enjoying it?" she asked hopefully, a forced smile on her face.

"Fascinating! Random Penguins would love to publish this."

"But?" She could hear a but in that statement, lurking just under the surface.

"But we haven't done a non-fiction before." He tilted the collection of papers left and right. "Not that we don't want to, but I didn't think it would be fair to make you a test case without you knowing that. We've done how-tos, adventures, romances, mysteries, even biographies, but this isn't any of those at all." He set the stack down on his desk, tail lashing as he looked towards Amy. "Do you understand?"

A.K. could feel her smile deepening. That wasn't a no. It was a yes, a timid yes. A shy yes, but... "So you will publish it then?"

"We'll certainly give it a try." He nodded softly as he waved at the collection. "I'll reach out to stores, see which are the right place and we're on the case. We have your number, Miss Yearling. We'll give you a call when it's on a shelf. Expect a few moons."

A few moons?! She sat up tall, coughing. "A few moons? It... takes that long?"

"Oh, yes. We have to negotiate with retail locations, and print the book." He tapped at the collection of papers. "Nicely typed, but this isn't laid out to be a book just yet. You don't have a cover either. Don't worry, we'll cover that. Ha, a joke. I wasn't even trying for that. Either way, an artist will have to make the front and back covers and re-do the entire thing for book format. Then we have to get the printing press set up for it and produce the first run to sell."

"I... see." It made sense, in hindsight. They couldn't just copy her collection of papers and sell that. And she hadn't drawn a cover. She was a writer, and barely that... "Thank you. This is... exciting." But slow! So slow... But it was moving!

Ping seemed to see the warring emotions on her face, his own smile far more easy. "We'll move as quickly as we can, but there's no hurrying quality, Miss Yearling."

"Of course! I mean, thank you, truly... This is..."

"Are you in need of an advance?" He reached into his desk and drew out a small bag of bits. "Seems safer than usual, seeing as you've already done the writing. Do you understand how advances work?"

"In theory?" she admitted, one brow raising. "What are we advancing, exactly?"

"What I pay you now comes out of your royalties later, until they become even, then you start getting royalties. It's a great way to bridge the time between starting writing and us selling. In your case, between submitting and us selling. It's a token of, mmm, trust, from us to you, that your book will sell and make this money back."

"O-oh! Thank you. I'm sure it'll sell." She wasn't sure it would sell. She had no idea! She had but hope.

"We hope so too." He reached into the bag and dug out a handful of coins he set down on the desk. "Here you are. That should let you wait without worry until we begin."

She reared up to scoop the money with one run of her arm over the desk, knocking it all over into a waiting bag. "Thank you. Does... this make me an author?"

His hand was suddenly on her head, right on her bonnet, petting her like a little foal. "That it does. Congratulations, Miss Yearling. I'll call you when there's an update."

She was too happy in that instant to complain. She instead trotted for the door. "I'll leave you to that. Thank you for seeing me."

"Take care."

A honk brought her attention forward to the little penguin she was about to bump into the chair of. "Oh, sorry. You have a good day too." A honk was all she got back, or really expected. She swerved around and made for the door, a big smile on her face.

So it wasn't the largest publisher. It was still a publisher, and they had even paid her! She stepped out onto the streets of Baltimare and let out a little breath, a hoof at her chest. She felt something drop onto her arm and blinked, peering at the drop of moisture. Oh.

She wiped her eyes clear of the tears she hadn't realized. "Don't go getting silly. They haven't even sold a single book. The whole thing could be a terrible flop..."

But she was paid! She was solvent. "For now..." What would she do with the money? She considered going home and hiding under her bed until the book began to sell, but that wasn't why she had written it to begin with. She wanted... to be out, digging, exploring, and finding.

She sat down on a train bench she only just dimly realized she had boarded, having almost slept-walk right onto a train and plopped herself down. Where was she going? She waved down a conductor. "Pardon me, this will sound quite silly, but where does this train head?"

The conductor ran a hoof over his beard. "West, towards Canterlot, Ma'am. From there, you can get almost anywhere you want. All tracks lead to Canterlot, you know."

"Yes, of course." Her eyes wandered, finding a map of the tracks. The conductor really wasn't lying, as they all seemed to go to Canterlot. she could get home with a transfer at Canterlot.

Confident that she was at least going in the right direction, she settled in her seat and closed her eyes, thinking things through.

"Tough day, huh?"

Amy popped open an eye to see who was speaking to her. A bright cyan unicorn mare.

"Don't even get me started," continued the unicorn without prompting. "Have to come to this strange city without my bestie, pfft, just to find out I came the wrong day." She was sitting oddly, as if the bench were too small to lay on, but there was plenty of room for two ponies to lay at once. "And here I am without my favorite talking partner."

A.K. smiled just a little. "And I'm the replacement?"

"If you don't mind. I'm Lyra, by the way. Lyra Heartstrings." she put a hoof to her chest, then reached out with the same. "You are?"

"A.K." She reached out and up, touching hooves with the mare. "Charmed. Are you heading home then?"

"Yeah... But I didn't get done what I wanted." She rolled her shoulders softly, looking Amy over. "How about you? Headed home?"

"I planned to..."

"Get things done?"

A.K. smiled a bit more. "I did... a publisher accepted my book."

Lyra gasped loudly enough to turn heads. "Congratulations!" She thumped down a hoof on either of Amy's shoulders. "That's big! Ooo, what did you write?" She was leaning in so far their noses were scrunched against one another. "A murder mystery? A sci-fi epic?!"

A.K. withdrew, but Lyra was perfectly happy to advance into the made space, keeping them connected. "It's a book about archeology and the process of those in the field," she explained, trying to distract herself by describing her story. "A tale about dirt, digging, and discovery."

"Oooo." Lyra finally sat back, clopping her hooves together. "I've heard of that. Oh wait, are you one of those?"

"I... yes, actually I am," confessed A.K. "I'm not digging right this moment, obviously."

"Obviously," merilly agreed Lyra. "Wow, you've made this whole trip suddenly worthwhile."

A.K. sat up, considering Lyra quietly a moment. "You really seem excited... for me."

"Who wouldn't be?" gushed the unicorn. "I bet you're going to be famous for books one day, and when that happens, I'll get to say 'I was there. I knew her when she was just starting.' A.K. right?"

"Yearling. A.K. Yearling," carefully pronounced Amy as she nodded gently. "You're being far too kind... To be honest, I really want to get back to that digging more than writing."

"So why don't you?" Lyra rolled a hoof in the air. "Oh wow, you've probably seen all kind of crazy things. Oh! I'll get your book for sure. Um, whenever I see it. But why not go dig if you want to dig?"

"I... don't have an assignment?" she lamely explained, feeling silly for saying it.

"So do it yourself." Lyra shrugged softly. "You have four hooves and a dream. If you just published a book, you did that other job too, so why not?"

"Because..." A.K. trailed off, thinking it through. Why couldn't she go exploring on her own? True, she'd basically be working for nothing, but it was work she wanted to do, and she had the bits to live for a while. And hiding under her bed didn't sound nearly as interesting. "Because... I didn't think of that. Thank you, Miss Heartstrings."

"Just call me Lyra." She suddenly grabbed Amy's hoof between both of her own, shaking it vigorously. "You go do archaeological stuff, whatever that really is." She suddenly frowned a bit. "Guess I need that book of yours to find out. When's it coming out?"

"In... a few moons." She retrieved her hoof and coiled on herself, producing a quill and paper. "If you give me your number or address, I can contact you with where to get it."

"Oh this is great." Her horn glowed as scribbles began to appear. "I can't wait then! Let me know."