Aged books and stained papers were scattered everywhere in Professor Garland’s office.

Dim lights gave little clarity around the room, making it hard to find where to step to avoid any piles of books.

“Watch your step,” Professor Garland said, motioning to a red liquid stained on the hardwood floors.

I froze at the sight. The liquid looked so much like blood.

My foot stepped back in uncertainty.

Professor Garland turned around and hinted I was uneasy. He laughed. “Gosh, I have to stop getting blood all over these hardwood floors.”

Goosebumps covered my skin.

“I think I should go—“

“I’m joking, Kyra,” Professor Garland laughed.

He pointed towards an overturned ink glass, stained red and dripping with crimson red ink. I then studied the surrounding papers, seeing the writing written in red ink.

There was not blood on the floors, only red ink.

I released a breath.

“No worries, Kyra. Now, let’s get started on Novel Writing 101.” Professor Garland pointed to a leather chair for me to sit at. “First rule: Do not follow the flow of the crowd.”

He handed me a stack of papers, all covered in words written in different colors of ink.

Stories about the sea were written in a deep blue ink. Other stories about forest folklore were written in shades of green

“The series and organization of words helps a novel become its best, but, even the mere image of the words helps the story become vibrant.”

How strange a thought.

This would be quite an interesting class.