On Mount Kyllini the Publishing Gods were in filthy moods. Sales were down, bookshops were closing and worse, they’d been called together to consider a membership application.

‘What’s the applicant’s name?’ asked the God of Hardback, unable to hide his boredom.

The Goddess of Paperback leaned back in her chair, causing her spine to crack noisily.  ‘The form says eBook.’

Sat on a rock, the God of Trade Formats passed a scribbled note to the Divine Mistress of Coffee Table Books. ‘Loser,’ it said.

‘People will always prefer paper,’ Hardback said. ‘You can’t beat the smell of a real book.’ The others murmured agreement. ‘And how else will the plebs fill their bookshelves without an annual Jamie Oliver?’ He held up his copy of “Dinners in a Dash.”

‘How do you read these eBooks?’ asked Paperback and the group fell silent.

The God of Multiple Volume Reference Books let out the loudest of sighs. ‘According to me, people have to buy some sort of gadget. A Nook or a Kindle or something.’

The others laughed. ‘What’s wrong with hands and eyes?’ Paperback said. ‘This will never catch on. You can’t expect people to pay twice.’

Someone cleared his throat and the Gods looked round to see Lord Retail.

‘Bank Blaming is on the next mountain,’ said Hardback.

Retail shook his head. ‘I’ve been sent here to warn you there’s a ship about to sail and you all need to be on it.’

‘A ship?’ Hardback’s face was a picture. ‘I don’t do other territories.’

Retail clicked a finger and a tall figure clad in a white shroud appeared from behind a tree. They high-fived.

Paperback yawned. ‘Please don’t tell me it’s the Death of Traditional Publishing. Do we have to have him round every three months? He’s such a buzz kill.’

The figure glared at Paperback.  ‘You more than anyone here should be worried,’ he said.

‘Me?’ She sounded nervous. ‘What about old Hardback over there? He was past it years ago.’

Lord Retail shook his head. ‘Hardback is cool again. You can’t move in Waterstones for silk bookmarks and deckle-edged paper. People love their special editions.’

Paperback’s face turned from peachy cream to china grey. ‘People won’t read great big books on the beach,’ she said. ‘Or in the bath. Or on a plane.’

‘No,’ said Retail. ‘That’s where eBook comes in.’

The God of Multiple Volume Reference Books jumped to his feet. ‘Piracy,’ he spluttered. ‘What about piracy? You saw what happened to the music industry. In the mid-1990s, MP3s began to spread across the Internet, ultimately leading to widespread peer-to-peer file sharing and …’

Hardback held up a hand. ‘Enough,’ he said. ‘Living in the past is what got us all into this mess.’

Retail nodded. ‘You guys have to embrace this brave new world. People want digital. Remember what happened to the God of Newspapers?’

The five Gods nodded and tried to think up reasons why they hadn’t found ten minutes to drop a bunch of grapes into The Royal Publishing Hospital to cheer up their ailing fellow deity.

‘We’re in this together,’ said Retail. ‘We don’t have much time. I heard Amazonia brag about how she sold a million Kindles every week in December.’

‘How can you sell people something they can’t actually touch?’ asked Paperback.

‘And people like to lend books to their friends,’ said Trade Format. ‘How’s that going to work?’

‘Ahem.’ A voice cut through the babble. ‘Is this the right mountain for Publishing?’

The Gods turned to stare at a teenager dressed in skinny jeans and a puffa jacket.

‘Is this eBook?’ sniffed Paperback. ‘Is this who we’ve been nervous about?’ The colour returned to her face and Hardback laughed out loud. Trade Format poured herself a second large glass of wine.

‘I think we’ve all been worried about nothing,’ Paperback said. ‘Time to vote.’

Retail and eBook were told to wait in a forest clearing. They sat on plush red velvet chairs. Neither spoke.

Hardback was sent to deliver news of the decision. ‘We’re not quite ready for you yet,’ he said. ‘Maybe some other day.’

eBook did his best to hide his disappointment and, as Hardback hobbled back to the others, Retail draped his arm around the youngster’s shoulders. ‘Come with me,’ he said. ‘I’d like you to meet Amazonia.’