This is not a newsletter, it's a cry for help
Peak Good Omens obsession has arrived. Spoilers for Good Omens 2 and corporate publishing
Apologies to readers of this newsletter who signed up to hear me talk about writing and Loki and things of that nature. But I had to get this out. If you’ve been following my trains of thought online for the past few weeks, and indeed, last month’s newsletter, you’ll know that I am deep in a Good Omens fandom hole.
So here. A short AU fanfic rewriting the ending of Good Omens as though it takes place in publishing…
Do NOT read on unless you’ve finished all of season 2 of Good Omens.
“Crowley, I have such wonderful news!” said Aziraphale. He was beaming.
Crowley’s heart sank. He’d seen Aziraphale talking with Him and knew this was going nowhere good.
“I’ve been offered the role of Publishing Director at Hachette!” said Aziraphale, flapping his hands with excitement. “And the CEO said I could appoint you to the senior management team too! Any role you like! Isn’t it marvellous?”
Crowley felt a growl build inside him. “Tell me you said no?”
“But Crowley! We could do such GOOD! Imagine the diversity and inclusion schemes we could expand!”
“Aziraphale, you IDIOT. We could’ve been US!”
“What, you mean, set up an imprint? We can do that at Hachette! And so much more! We could change the passwords of transphobic authors! We could raise wages for junior and mid-level staff!”
“No, Aziraphale. Not an imprint. Nobody needs another bloody imprint. I mean, we have to leave publishing. Whether it’s Hachette or HarperCollins, publishing is TOXIC,” hissed Crowley. But Aziraphale was not getting it.
“But we could CHANGE publishing,” Aziraphale insisted. “We could provide authors with FULL access to data! We could improve representation of all minoritised groups! We could reduce the carbon footprint of the printing and distribution process! We could set up a new literary prize for authors over 40! Thing of all the GOOD we could do!”
Crowley sighed deeply and shook his head. “Publishing is OLD, Aziraphale. Centuries old. It’s not going to change. It keeps promising to change, but it never, ever will. All that’s going to change is YOU. And I can’t be around to watch that.”
Without looking back, Crowley walked away.
LATER…
Aziraphale was in the Hachette lift wit the CEO, Mr Metatron, heading to his new office.
“I am so glad you took the role,” said the CEO. “I have a project that requires your particular knowledge of the publishing market.”
“Oh, GOOD! Might I know what it is?” Aziraphale asked.
“Of course,” said Metatron. He smiled a bland smile that made Aziraphale shudder. “It’s a merger with Penguin Random House.”
THE END
(Until someone writes a fix-it fic where a young enby Hachette editor called Muriel reminds Aziraphale what’s important and he runs away with Crowley to retrain as a teacher)