Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jason didn’t mean to become an award-winning author, swear. It just kind of happened.

It starts in college, when Jason has a two-hour seminar at nine a.m. every Friday morning in which he cannot sleep, doesn't give a shit about taking notes, and is bored enough to start typing away on Word. His constant typing merits him, somewhat unintentionally, both the status of Professor O'Toole's favourite student and a long-ass Word document filled with bits and pieces of writing.

When Jason dreamed of being a famous author as a kid, which he did entirely too often and with an uncomfortable degree of navel-gazing, he always dreamed of rising to the level of his favourite authors. Austen, of course, and Brontë, but Le Guin and Douglas Adams and Tolkien too. What he creates is… not that. It’s a bunch of random stuff, at first, spiels on aspects of his childhood. Not the deep shit (the last thing he needs is to gain a reputation for bursting into tears mid-lecture) but still stuff he just can’t get out of his head. The way the light would shine through the apartment, sometimes, and bring a soft glow to the whole room, shed light upon the slow rise and fall of his mother’s chest early in the morning, like a metronome that he would track with sleepy eyes. The feeling of being alone in the library when he’d sneak in after hours and choose any book he wanted.

He doesn’t touch that Word document when he’s out of class, doesn’t think about it much either. It’s just a random file he rambles in for lack of anything else to do. But eventually, one of the stories he tells, the one that’s more fiction than fact, stretches and stretches and stretches until it’s the one he’s writing every week, with actual characters and even a plan, and then suddenly college is out for winter break and with nothing else to do after exams he finds himself writing and writing and writing.

He doesn’t tell anyone. It’s not like he doesn’t have anyone to tell – he’s got his college friends, who are great and funny and kind, and he’s got professors he likes, too, and he shoots the shit with the other guys on the hockey team. He just honestly doesn’t really think about it when he’s not writing it. It’s not exactly Tolstoy, anyway, just a story about detective kids. Which is why he doesn’t think to lie when one of his fellow sufferers in Intro to Sociology leans over one Wednesday and asks what he’s writing.

“Uh, just a story,” he whispers back, and then has to take some frantic notes because Professor Fernández López (who is significantly less chill than Prof. O’Toole) has started talking about midterms and Jason needs that shit in writing. He forgets about it, and assumes Ally does the same.

Only, as it turns out, she doesn’t.

WEDNESDAY 5:14 P.M.

Alison: hi this is ally

Alison: from intro to soc????

Alison: i got ur number from the gc hope that’s ok

Alison: anyway weird question and im sorry if this is like out of pocket but i was kinda reading ur story over ur shoulder this morning and i have not been able to stop thinking about it since

Alison: i NEED to know what happens next

Alison: is there any way i could read any of it???

Alison: ok if not i just thought i would ask!!!!!

Huh.

Jason doesn’t really get the appeal – he likes writing his little detective story, but he can’t really see why anyone would read it – he hasn’t even gone back and read what he’s written, himself. Still, he doesn’t want to send on anything he’ll be embarrassed by later, so he goes back and edits it a little, which takes more time than he expected. He’s got a good bit written, maybe 60k, and he writes additional stuff as he goes. It’s better than he had expected; he keeps forgetting that he’s supposed to be editing. By the time he finishes, it’s the middle of the night and he’s added an additional 5k, and by that point he just copies and pastes what he has into a new google doc, sends Ally the link, and moves on with his life.

The story gets fleshed out a little more from there. Now that Jason knows that someone else is reading it, he gets a little less lazy with the quality, starts to step up the planning and the plotting a bit more, works on it outside of class to ensure there aren’t any typos or anything before he adds chapters from Word into the doc. At one point Ally asks if she can add a few of her friends to the google doc and he agrees without really thinking about it. And then one day someone texts into the Intro to Soc Whatsapp group about the most recent chapter, and it becomes a Thing.

INTRO TO SOC GC

Josh Fallon: anyone selling any engineering ball tickets???

+1 732 555 3451: just finished ch 11 and the CLIFFHANGER

This message was liked by Jorge and 8 others

Jorge: I KNOW

+1 732 555 3451: @Josh Fallon this is a humanities module???

Josh Fallon: im an engineering major im just taking this for credits

+1 732 555 3451: what are we thinking about the water Joey found on the ground at the end 👀

Josh Fallon: so does anyone have tickets

+1 732 555 3451: no

+1 732 555 3451: so puddle of water what are we thinking

Jorge: I didn’t even notice that I was more confused about the open window???

Nicky: personally I thought that was a red herring

This message was liked by Jorge and 4 others

+1 732 555 3451: ya I agree

Jorge: I read this whole thing too quickly I need to go back and reread 😔😔😔

This message was liked by 8 others

Nicky: agree but let’s go back to the cliffhanger. cannot breathe like wtf how could he fucking do that!!! Wtf

Livvy: wait new chapter is up???? Wtf need to read RIGHT NOW

Livvy: NO SPOILERS

Jorge is typing…

Nicky is typing…

Irene: @Livvy just mute the chat they’re absolutely going to spoil it for u

Ella Reid: seriously tho… like am I wrong in thinking the chapters keep getting better and better? Like that whole arc with the abandoned building fucking KILLED me

This message was liked by Irene and 5 others

Irene: no i absolutely agree

Irene: they’re top fucking tier

Nicky: where do we think he’s going with the whole letter thing? I think Joey is going to find out he’s not an orphan after all

This message was liked by Ella Reid and  2 others

+1 732 555 3451: idk I think that would be too much of an easy route. If there is a dad I think it’ll be an evil fake parents thing like in Annie

Irene: I loved that film

Ella Reid: new one or old one?

Irene: Old one obvs

Irene: lol

+1 732 555 3451: lol

+1 732 555 3451: does anyone know who the author is????

Jorge: No

This message was liked by Ella Reid and 9 others

Kath Richards: are we talking about the story??? I thought the writer was a member of staff

Irene: I had assumed it was a student?

Jorge: I feel like it’s way too good to be a student tho

Ella Reid: yeah the style of writing is quite like formal

Kath Richards: and there’s a lot of literary references. There’s consistent comparisons between Joey and Icarus, and there’s an ongoing labyrinth metaphor with the streets.

Kath Richards: Which brings in interesting questions about who might represent Daedalus

Ella Reid: ok go off with the analysis queen

Kath Richards: Thanks hahaha

Irene: I agree with kath, the author keeps referencing poetry too. Lots of yeats

Jorge: I’m gonna be honest I missed ALL of that

This message was liked by Nicky and 4 others

+1 732 555 3451: all I know is that I cannot fucking wait for the next chapter

This message was liked by Irene and 11 others

Ok. So. This is a thing that is happening now.

Jason decides that he’s going to mute the group chat.

(Even if he does feel secretly pleased that Kath, who has not once paid attention to a single word in Intro to Soc, is dedicated enough to his story to be pulling out his intentional Greek parallelism. And that all these people seem to be reading his story. Which is, you know, pretty cool.)

(And maybe he wishes there was someone he could tell about that. But Talia hasn’t really spoken to him since he abandoned his whole murder plan two weeks after coming back to Gotham and started going to therapy instead. And his family don’t even know he’s alive. And Bruce has found a brand new son who probably gets straight As on top of being a better son than Jason ever was. Evidently. And maybe that makes him bury burning eyes into his pillow on more than one night, the thought of everything he’s lost, and if it helps him to draft out a chapter in his head about Joey and his friends, who will never ever betray or leave or replace one another, and are in fact biologically related as he plans to reveal in chapter twenty-five, then he keeps that from his therapist, because most days he can’t even admit to himself that he misses his dad and his family so much that it makes him sick.)

He keeps writing chapters, keeps ignoring the group chat, and swears Ally to secrecy. Ally seems to think he should go for a book deal, but he shuts that down pretty quickly; this is his fun time entertainment zero-stress hobby. A whole lot of his life up until this point has been about struggling and proving himself and all that shit, and he still does a whole lot of that when he’s competing for the top spot in his classes (although, weirdly, it’s become a lot easier to write essays since he’s started regularly pushing out six or seven thousand words a week), so he has absolutely no interest in turning this into some sort of financial opportunity. Luckily, Ally seems to get it. She even offers to run an eye over the chapters before he uploads them to the Google doc, just for typos and stuff, and it takes a surprising amount of weight off just to get someone else to do that.

He's started uploading chapters at a set time, 11am on Fridays so that he can spend the weekend on college work, which is really piling up at this point in the term. He’s spent so much time on this---unintentionally, but still---that he’s started to fall behind in class a bit, which isn’t ideal. School comes first, as Alfie always used to say.

School is, in fact, the reason why he goes to text into the group chat a few months later, looking for information on an upcoming assignment. He finds pretty much immediately that the time intervening hasn’t quelled the discussion at all. The messages are coming in so quick that his phone would be buzzing constantly if the group chat weren’t on silent.

Peter Todd: does anyone know the due date for the tutorial assignment?

Jorge: I’m not going to lie I wasn’t mad about the POV switch at first because Joey is such a good character but now I’m really enjoying Alex’s POV. Do you think the writer plans to switch back and forth every chapter from now on?

This message was liked by Ella Reid

Ella Reid: idk there was a solid, like, 15 chapters of joey I think we’ll get an equal number for alex

Jorge: yeah the writer seems to like planning out stuff like that

Livvy: @Peter Todd 15 April I think x

Nicky: I like Alex but I prefer Joey

This message was liked by +1 732 555 3451 and 1 other

Livvy: and I don’t know I think the differing perspective is kind of cool

This message was liked by Ella Reid and 4 others

Irene: agreed 💯

Peter Todd: @Livvy thanks 👍

Josh Fallon: what are you guys even talking about? Is this something we have to read for class

Irene: bro why are you even in this groupchat u haven’t attended a class since like September

Josh Fallon: could you just answer the question please

Nicky: someone didn’t sleep well last night

This message was liked by Ella Reid and 5 others

Jorge: @Josh Fallon no it’s just a story someone is writing. Ally shared it so we’re all reading it.

Ella Reid: wait hold on

Ella Reid: was this like a secret thing????

Ella Reid: I shared it with all my friends

Irene: I don’t think so? I know a lot of people who read it, I was chatting to someone in the debating society yesterday about the most recent chapter

Nicky: yeah I didn’t even know you guys got it from ally I got it from someone in the campus accommodation group chat

Ella Reid: ok thank god lol

Hold the fuck on. He had thought there were like ten people reading this.

For the first time, Jason tentatively goes to the ‘Share’ option on the public Google doc and tries to see how many people are on it. He scrolls down on the list of emails. And scrolls. And scrolls.

Five minutes later, he’s still scrolling.

What. The. Fuck.

Jason: Ally did you share my story with more people than just our class?

Ally: um

Ally: was i not supposed to?

Ally: i kept the edit function off!!!

Ally: u can always private it?

Ally: only

Ally: people might be. you know. a bit upset

Jason: I’m not going to private it, I’m just a bit confused. How many people did you send it to?

Ally: not that many i swear!!! it’s just I think maybe the people i sent it to sent it to their friends and so on and so forth???

Jason: So how many people are reading it now?

Ally: idk the google docs keeps crashing on saturdays cos there’s so many people reading it now

Ally: i was going to suggest u start a blog or a newsletter or something lol

Jason: Firstly, I am not going to Lady Whistledown my way through this, and secondly, do you have an idea of how many people?

Ally: ok go off king didn’t realise u watched bridgerton

Ally: and re: readership i genuinely have no idea. there’s a group chat for it if you want in

Jason: No I’m already in the Soc group chat. So like 50 people?

Jason: Also lots of men watch Bridgerton, it’s a good show. Nicola Coughlan is an excellent actress.

Ally: honestly season 3 was not my favourite but i did love nicola in derry girls

Jason: I LOVE Derry Girls. Did you see the celeb bake off episode with them???

Ally: uh no but now i desperately want to. u watch bakeoff???? tara and i do a watch party together on tuesday nights!!! u want to join us???

Jason: I have a lot of opinions. Is this a silent watch party?

Ally: absolutely not

Jason: Then I would love to.

Ally: also regarding the group chat; no that’s just the soc group chat. there’s a specific gc for the story. it’s got like 1000+ members

Ally: i think there’s a discord server too

Jason: I have no idea what that is.

Ally: that’s ok. i don’t either

Ally: have u come up with a name for the story btw

Jason: No. Lol. Should I?

Ally: well there’s only one detective kids story going around campus so I think you’re probably safe. might be a good idea to come up with a name before other people do it for you tho

Jason: Fair.

Ally: Detective Kids R Us?

Jason: I could do a YA title. Something of Something and Something.

Ally: HAHAHAHA

Jason: The Kings of Murder and Mayhem?

Ally: wait

Ally: y is that acc good

Jason: Ally no

Ally: it just needs a little tweaking!!

Ally: The Kings of Cement and Magpies?

Jason: What does that even mean

Ally: idk i found a YA lit book title generator

Ally: how about something to do with magpies tho? cos they steal shiny things

Jason: Not sure. In Word it’s just ‘stupid little story’. Lol.

Ally: lmao

Ally: Any meaningful secret titles up your sleeve?

Jason: Nicola Coughlan Is Superior

Ally: HAHAHA

Ally: I Am Not Lady Whistledown, Swear

Jason: It was SO unsubtle. I mean, her name was PEN. PEN!!!!

Ally: right???!!! like wtf

Ally: i felt as though eloise was such a bitch the whole way through that too

Jason: I agree. Honestly she’s not my favourite character.

They never do sort out how many people are reading his story, but when the Google doc crashes that Saturday – permanently this time – and the Soc group chat explodes with texts from almost every single person in their class talking about it, Jason takes Ally’s advice and sets up a blog for the story.

It’s pretty basic; Ally did the visuals, so it’s got a nice enough layout, and Jason insisted on a cream background and a nice font, but other than that, it’s about as simple as it gets. The blog doesn’t come with any way to track readership, but people can leave comments under every chapter. Which is how Jason finds out that there’s a good few thousand people that are very dedicated to his stupid little story.

And he still has to come up with a title.

Fuck.

Chapter Text

It’s Jason’s first-ever Bakeoff night, and he’s being subjected to a lecture on copyright law.

“You need to at least start thinking about assigning ownership here,” says the woman on the couch wrapped in a blanket burrito. Her name is Tara, she is Ally’s friend, and she is terrifying. “You don’t precisely need to monetise it, but if you don’t, someone else can easily steal your work and start selling it en masse. I mean, people are already selling bound editions on eBay, for Christ’s sake.”

“But it’s not even finished,” says Jason, somewhat helplessly.

“That doesn’t matter. Ally, pass me the cookie dough one.” A small pause to open the next carton of Ben & Jerry’s. “Yum. As I was saying, you need to at least come up with a title for this thing. And a pseudonym, and pay for some sort of trademark. This is excellent, by the way, thanks for bringing ice cream.”

“Yeah, thanks Jason.”

“No problem.”

“So.” Tara wriggles her burrito a little further up the couch so she can sit up and stare intensely at Jason. “Title ideas?”

Jason can feel Ally’s eyes burning a hole into the back of his head. He has a strong feeling that she is telepathically screaming Kings of Murder and Mayhem at him, which is a strong no, thanks.

“Haven’t a clue,” he says, determinedly not looking at Ally. He is not making a Gotham ACOTAR. GACOTAR, if you will.

“Is it just me, or are you a bit shit at naming things?” Tara tells more than asks him, less than delicately. Jason, who happily chose ‘Peter Jason Todd’ as his new name upon venturing out into his super-secret new life at Gotham U, is nevertheless committed to going the American Fiction route and calling his story ‘Fuck’ if it will save him from the horrors of homogenous LA lit titles. He chooses to shrug. The girls groan.

 “Ally, save me from this hell,” Tara says into a couch pillow.

“Look,” Ally says, having apparently decided to break her self-imposed silence to save Tara, “You’ve got to at least make a decision before you finish the story, cause the second it’s done it’s going to be pirated and sold even more than it is now. Right, Tara?”

“Jason, I am not exaggerating when I tell you that if you published it yourself, you’d make bank.”

That gives Jason pause, for as much as he has been railing against the capitalist idea that one must always monetise one’s hobbies, his scholarship only covers so much, and looking into the future he can see that Talia’s money is going to start running out sometime next year, long before he finishes his degree. Is he willing to trade in his story just for that, though? What comes first, survival or moral integrity?

“Look, can we just watch Bake Off right now?” he says eventually, trying not to sound as stressed as he feels. The girls seem to take pity on him, because Tara passes him the Ben & Jerry’s before she clicks play.

And no matter what else is going on in his life, he will always find the energy to make fun of Paul Hollywood’s excessive orange tan. 

*

That night, Jason lies in bed and imagines what it would be like to have a book published. It used to be one of his favourite little fantasies, one he hasn’t thought about in a long time. He’d use a classy font, something that would make his name look elegant, like a name you’d recognise on a bookshelf: Jason Todd. No, Jason P. Todd. J.P. Todd? 

Anyway.

In this fantasy, the edition at hand is a Penguin Modern Classic. At the back it’d have that one page that Penguin books had when he was a kid, the one that talks about how the penguin symbol has changed over time, but no matter what the penguin looks like, when you see it, you’ll know that the book is quality. 

That’s his dream. He wants someone to see his book or his name and think, “Oh, this will be quality.”

But if he’s honest with himself, his dreams for himself as a writer are so large, so impossible, he’s not sure if he could ever write something that would meet his own expectations. Despite his reservations, he really is proud of his little story, and he loves those characters to a degree that borders on slightly ridiculous. And doesn’t it say something that with zero advertising or effort on his behalf, his writing has managed to amass an audience that is so dedicated that they have whole message boards created just to discuss the symbolism and world-building in his story? Is he allowed to finally say, “This is good enough to call my own?”

Could this be something he maybe even does for a living?

Because there’s another issue waiting on the sidelines: the money thing. He needs money to keep on living in his shitty little apartment and buy groceries and pay for every other cost in his life, and he needs that money quicker than he can earn it working part-time at the college bar. He could steal it, but he’s done stealing; he could fight, but he’s done with that too. That part of his life is over. He’d just hoped the part of his life where he was calculating rent in his head was over, too.

And it would be, you know, pretty cool. To have that book in his hands, that weight, and a name on the cover that, if not perhaps his name, would be something he chose, a title he chose, a book that he wrote.

Jason sits up in bed and grabs his laptop. If he’s doing this, he’s going to need help.

From               [email protected]

To                   [email protected]

Subject:           Coffee tomorrow?

Hi Ally,

Emailing because I don’t want to wake you up by texting. Could we grab a coffee tomorrow? I want to chat about possibly picking a title for the story. Let me know what you think.

Best,

Jason

From               [email protected]

To                   [email protected]

Subject:           Re: Coffee tomorrow?

jason u type like an 80 year old man. also yes coffee sounds good and bold of u to think that im not up at this time anyway lmaooo

ps i texted tara shes coming too xoxo

From               [email protected]

To                   [email protected]

Subject:           Re: re: Coffee tomorrow?

I do not email like an 80-year-old man.

Do not bring Tara.

From               [email protected]

To                   [email protected]

Subject:           Re: re: re: Coffee tomorrow?

hilarious that u think u have any say in this whatsoever

From               [email protected]

To                   [email protected]

Subject:           Re: re: re: re: Coffee tomorrow?

🤨

From               [email protected]

To                   [email protected]

Subject:           Re: re: re: re: re: Coffee tomorrow?

😇

*

Two weeks later, Jason has a whole lot of assigned reading he’s ignoring in favour of furiously writing his way through the finale of what is still, on Word, ‘stupid little story.docx’. He’s almost glad Bruce isn’t there for him to talk to, because he would have definitely suffered through a fair few lectures on proper planning by now. The absolute last thing he needs is to be tanking his grades for the sake of paying rent, but then again, there isn’t any school without money to pay for it. So this takes priority. And despite the stress, despite everything, he loves it. Now, more than ever, banging away at his second-hand laptop in the sultry summer heat of his apartment, even with the noise from the street and conspicuous lack of air conditioning, Jason knows that this is what he wants to do with the rest of his life. 

So to be honest, he’d take the lectures. He just wishes he could share this with his family.

But they’re not your family anymore, he reminds himself. There’s a new kid there now, eating Alfie’s special homemade healthy snacks and probably sitting in your window nook in the library. 

And then that gets a little too painful to think about, so he gets back to writing about Alex and Joey and their satisfying happy ending which will also leave space for the set of sequels he may or may not write. Much neater and easier. Better to live in fantasies than in the real world; one of the two is much kinder. 

*

A year after that, two things happen on the same day: Jason takes a midterm, and he gets a book deal. One of them is a breeze. The other, less so.

“Five thousand dollars, Ally,” he says in disbelief, refreshing and refreshing the email as though that will change the number. “That barely covers one rent payment! Is that it?”

“I know,” she says, commiserating. “But look, that’s just the advance. Most publishers don’t offer anything at all for a debut author, especially for children’s books. You’re lucky. And we negotiated high royalties, and once it starts selling, that’s when the real money will come in, yeah?”

“I guess,” he mumbles, still staring at the email. Five thousand dollars. He’s almost finished his second year of college, now, which means just under two years of work for five thousand dollars.  

“Hey.” Ally gives him a light shove. “Let the book at least be published before you start mourning, okay?”

Ugh, fine. “When will the book be published?”

“Pretty much ASAP. They want to capitalize on the audience you already have, particularly since everyone’s been chomping at the bit ever since your hiatus announcement on the blog last year.”

“So you really think people are going to buy this?”

“One day, I’m going to remind you that you ever had doubts.”

*

Two months after that, A. Knight’s debut novel Kings of Gotham hits the shelves, and the world goes a little insane for a while.

*

HAS KINGS OF GOTHAM SAVED CHILDREN’S FICTION?

“The best children’s book since Harry Potter”: Children’s authors on Kings of Gotham

ALL THE MAKINGS OF A CLASSIC: HOW KINGS OF GOTHAM CAPTURED HEARTS

Who is A. Knight? Everything you should know about the author taking over American bookshelves

Did a Gotham University student write Kings of Gotham? Read here for more

Gotham U experiencing a ‘literary revolution’ with record enrolments in English and Creative Writing degrees

LGBTQ+ representation in A. Knight’s Kings of Gotham: Everything you should know

Steven Spielberg expresses interest in adapting Kings of Gotham: “It’s the next Harry Potter”

“GLOWING PRAISE”: IS KINGS OF GOTHAM THE BEST THING TO EVER COME OUT OF GOTHAM?

Kings of Gotham tops bestseller lists

Is A. Knight a woman? Jane Austen scholar thinks yes

“Terry Pratchett’s spiritual successor”: How Kings of Gotham won over kids across the world

LITERARY REVIEW OF BOOKS ON KINGS OF GOTHAM: “RICH, EXPLOSIVE”

Rick Riordan recommends Kings of Gotham as his book of the year

*

SUMMER, GOTHAM. Temperatures are high, the sun is hidden by blood-red clouds, and the smell of rot pervades the streets. It’s not the most conventional site for an interview, but then the subject of that interview isn’t the most conventional man: the enigmatic A. Knight, writer of Kings of Gotham, the book that has exploded across children’s bestseller lists in the past six months.

Unusually enough, Kings of Gotham gained a significant reader base even before its publication; much of the book was initially serialised online for free, with thousands of readers waiting on each chapter. Since its publication, Knight’s offbeat writing style and instantly likeable, well-developed characters have brought his story from indie status to blockbuster success, with literary critics and readers alike exuberant in their praise. Just recently, acclaimed reviewer and children’s author Biana Schulze applauded the exploration of Gothamite identity in the book, describing Kings of Gotham as ‘a novel which brings life and beauty to a city which is rarely hailed for either’. In just a few months, Kings of Gotham has led to a cultural shift in children’s literature which is already being compared to the Harry Potter effect. This is the book of a generation. Yet, through all of this, its author has remained silent. Today, that changes.

Knight and I meet in typical Gothamite style—that is to say, with a significant degree of cloak-and-dagger paranoia. Knight requests to meet not in a café or similar establishment but in Robinson Park, which I am told by locals is famous for its connection with local villain Poison Ivy—but which also, according to Knight, is devoid of all manmade technology: no cameras. I wait at a specific bench, facing west, with my sweater draped over my arm as per his instructions. Within a few seconds, a man in a red hoodie emerges from the crowds of picnicking children and makes the agreed signal. I follow him further into the park. The whole experience brings back fond memories of my interview with Batman about the Collegiate Case several years ago. (You can read that interview, which set the Guinness World Record for the shortest interview of all time, here.) Adding to the secrecy is Knight’s insistence that any personal descriptive details be eliminated entirely from the story. It’s not exactly your regular Tuesday at work.

We begin a casual stroll around the park (Knight assures me that Poison Ivy is currently in prison). Knight is clearly comfortable in this environment, stepping over old puddles of blood with ease and telling me about the best places to get food in the city. When I ask him about the incredible success of his book, however, he is more taciturn.

“It was a complete surprise. My friend had insisted that it was going to do well, but I didn’t believe her. At the time, I was more concerned with paying rent.”

Is that still a problem?

“Well, no. I have enough money now that I don’t really have to worry about stuff like that, which is pretty nice.”

There have been some rumours that Knight was a university student at Gotham U before the publication of his book; most of his initial online readers were university students, many of whom claim the story originated on campus. How does he respond to these claims?

 While Knight expertly avoids giving details about his attendance, or nonattendance, at Gotham U, he is effusive in his gratitude to those first fans. “I was really lucky to have gained a lot of dedicated readers before the book was even published, which was amazing. I’m grateful to all the people who stuck around and were so happy to see Joey and Alex all the way to the end.”

I change the subject to Kings of Gotham being announced as a finalist for the Northeastern Book Association Literary Award. What was that experience like? Knight is silent for a long moment.

“It was… a bit mixed, to be perfectly honest. I was so exhilarated, but I also really wanted to tell my family, with whom I am no longer in contact. So yeah, a bit hard. I dreamed a lot about that award, growing up.”

And the Newbery Honor?

“Yeah, kind of the same thing. But a friend of mine threw a little party for me, which was great. It actually happened the same day as Celeb Bake Off, so we had a great night watching that and getting drunk.”

Big Bake Off fan?

“Oh, massive.”

Several reviewers noted a lot of references to classic literature in Kings of Gotham, Ancient Greek myth most of all but also to Jane Austen. Is he a fan of British culture and literature in general?

“Well, definitely a big Jane Austen fan. But one of my family members is British, so I grew up with a lot of classic British television, books, theatre, things like that.”

And yet Kings of Gotham is very much steeped in Gothamite culture.

“Yeah, absolutely. I mean, this is my home. I grew up here. There’s no place like it.” Knight seems to catch my dubiousness, laughing. “It’s definitely not everyone’s cup of tea. But for me, these are my people. I couldn’t live somewhere like Metropolis.”

Not a fan of Superman?

“Nah, he’s fine. Life is just a little too shiny over there for my taste.”

And Batman?

“Well, you know, it’s good we have someone out here fighting crime. Just glad it’s not me.”

Yet he depicts the crime and mystery aspects of the book with startling realism.

Knight laughs. “I’m a big mystery fan,” he says, grinning.

So the story isn’t autobiographical?

“There are parts that are based on my real-life experience, but if you’re asking whether I’ve ever participated in a heist, I’m sure you can guess the answer.” We both laugh.

Knight notes, however, that his history as a homeless child on Gotham’s streets had a significant impact on the story and on his life in general. “I think my whole life I’ve been looking at things from the perspective of survival. Like, even publishing the book, that was a choice borne of necessity. I had planned for the whole thing to be free online. I pushed for a lower price once we put out the second printing and I had a bit more creative control, and I also made it a part of my contract that a set portion of copies would go to libraries across America. I wanted kids, especially kids who have similar life trajectories to Joey and Alex, to be able to actually access the book that was written for them.” He pauses. “I remember what it was like to be that kid, to think only in terms of survival. I think that’s reflected in the thought processes of Joey and Alex; they’re two distinct characters, but they’re both street kids and they think like street kids, like me.”

When I ask him if he still thinks in terms of survival, he takes a while to think of an answer. “There was a time when I didn’t, for a while,” he says eventually. “But I guess I always end up coming back to it. At the end of the day, it’s the priority, right? To survive.”

Even when you’re financially secure?

“Well, finance isn’t the only thing that might bite you in the ass, living in Gotham.”

Fair enough.

My final question: what does the future hold for A. Knight? Are there more fictional worlds waiting?

Knight pauses. “Yeah, definitely. But for now...I suppose maybe it’s time to start living in the real world, rather than the fictional one.”

Words to live by.

Kings of Gotham is out now in stores across America; Knight requests that, where possible, readers buy from their local bookshops or from book dispensaries online as opposed to Amazon.

*

Two hundred feet under where Joey and Alex slept, the ground shifted. If an outsider were to ask a Gothamite about the system of underground caves which lie beneath the city, it is supremely unlikely he would receive a response, mostly because Gothamites aren’t stupid enough to talk to strangers on the street. But if one were to look inside a Gothamite’s brain like the Terrible Telepaths will do for a small fee down on Snake Oil Street (you know, next to the “bank”), then one would rapidly discover that even the suggestion of the caves will lead those thoughts to shrink away like Batman from the light, or indeed from a sense of style. Or a sense of humour.

“Might I ask what you are laughing about, sir?”

Tim lifts his head and grins at Alfred. “It’s that book that everyone’s talking about, Kings of Gotham. Here, read this bit.”

Alfred leans over obligingly from where he’s chopping carrots for tonight’s dinner. An inexperienced observer wouldn’t see the difference, but Tim can see the humour in Alfred’s expression just from the tilt in his chin as he skims the paragraph.

“Very good. I must say, young Master Timothy, that this is the first time I have seen you reading.”

“That’s not true, I read all the time,” Tim says absently, flicking to the next page. The reason for this being that the caves are—

“The first time you have read something for your own enjoyment, then, and not something you do as part of your work here.”

Shit. “I can put it away and work on case stuff,” Tim says immediately, closing his book and casting his eyes around for his schoolbag. He’s such an idiot, why did he think he could read some detective story at the table instead of doing actual work? It’s just that ever since he’s picked this up, he hasn’t been able to put it down—it's like a cord pulling at his mind, his thoughts always on the book waiting for him in his locker or his bag. But he should have known better than to get distracted. Bruce always says that distraction is just a longer way of spelling death.

Tim’s jumble of thoughts is interrupted, however, by a warm hand covering his own. “Master Timothy, please do look at me.”

Tim meets Alfred’s gaze, though reluctantly.

“Master Timothy, I will never object to you enjoying the world around you. Growing boys need balance, and you are quite bereft of the leisure activities which provide that balance.”

“But Bruce—”

“I changed Master Bruce’s diapers. If he thinks he knows better than I on this point, he is welcome to converse with me. I would be particularly interested in informing him of the usefulness of detective and mystery books in the realisation of actual detective work; as he might recall, he may be an excellent detective, but it was I who worked in Her Majesty’s service. To great success, might I add.”

Tim never gets to hear about Alfred’s super-secret spy past. “You used detective books to help you be a spy?!”

“I never said I was a spy,” Alfred says crisply, moving away from the table. “I merely said I worked for Her Majesty. Any thoughts you may infer from that are entirely your own.”

Cool.

*

“So how did your interview with that new author go? I seem to remember you enjoying his book.”

“I did enjoy his book, as it happens,” says Lois, closing her laptop and taking a long stretch. Clark lets his gaze linger as she sighs and moves to one side, then the other. Her face, flushed with contentment; their little kitchen, filled with good smells and afternoon light. He sends off a quick mental prayer of thanks to Rao for all that life has given him. His beautiful wife, their wonderful home, and hopefully someday soon a little someone to share it with.

“To answer your question, it went quite well. He was far younger than I had imagined—I’d say there’s credibility to the rumours that he was a university student—but very mature, very humble. I’d say life has put him through the wringer.”

“Then it’s admirable that he’s achieved so much.”

“Yes, that’s how I feel as well.”

“So what did he look like?”

Lois shoots him an amused look. “He requested privacy. I’m not going to tell you just because you’re my husband, Kent.”

“Of course not,” Clark says immediately, and then ruins that by saying, “But you could hint.”

“I won’t tell you anything that isn’t going to end up in the article anyway. I won’t say much in terms of a physical description, if anything, but he’s definitely got that Park Row accent, even though it’s evident that he’s highly educated. And he’s very enthusiastic about things like accessibility and the importance of making reading popular among kids. He talked a lot about supports for kids with reading problems, the importance of funding libraries, unequal educational opportunities in Gotham, things like that.”

Clark can’t help but think of another young boy from Gotham who had similar ideas, once upon a time. He still remembers those nights up on the Watchtower helping Jason with his homework and running lines with him for his school plays. The giggly twelve-year-old who grew into an increasingly moody teenager. The fits of temper, the anger. He wishes, fervently, that that boy could have lived to see Gotham today: filled with conversations about literature and the importance of reading for young kids, a Gotham that cares about kids like him. A thriving Gotham. He would have loved a book like the one Knight has written. 

“Something wrong?”

Clark shakes himself and smiles at his wife. No use living in the past.

“Nothing at all, Ms Lane.”

“Very well, Mr. Kent.”