It's All Goodnow……

Literary Agent Rejection Letters

I have decided to go very dark with my next book.   It is about 80 pages deep and because I am having a tough time writing I am changes tact.  Shit is about to get bad for every character in the book.  I’m talking end of days dark.  And why not?  It is my book.  My characters.  My ideas.  Why should I write a book that I think I should be writing?  I need to be more honest as a writer, get dark and horrible when it is needed.  No more rainbows.  No more clear skies.  No more rooting for the main character.  Not going to happen.  

While writing about writing…..agents.  I think I need to go to some writing conferences.  I have to meet agents and charm them over three martini lunches or something cause query letters ARE NOT WORKING.  I got a batch of rejections today.  Yes, batch.  

Every response I get, always excites me.  THIS COULD BE THE ONE!  And then there is some form letter rejection that makes me heart sink.  I get that agents have a lot on their plate, but just one personalized letter that says, “You know, this wasn’t bad.  Just not my cup of tea.  Keep at it, this book will find a home.”  

I know that is me wanted to be coddled, but it is more that I want to know the agent is reading more than the query.  That he or she (usually a she) is reading a page or two.  Query letters do nothing.  If I wanted to summarize books I would go back to 5th grade and write a fucking book report.  I chose to write.  To create and to dumb down my book into a page of a sales pitch just sort of pisses me off. 

So I will keep writing my queries.  I will start attending conferences and I will now cross my fingers because My Sober Year is special to me and I think it deserves a home and more important – a chance to succeed.  

 

Bobby Jenks DUI

So Bobby Jenks gets arrested for a DUI in Florida.  Apparently he is claiming he took too many muscle relaxants.  

http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2012/baseball/mlb/03/23/jenks.red.sox.dui.ap/index.html?sct=hp_t2_a16&eref=sihp

Huh?  Sounds like when I was drunk back in college and my girlfriend would ask me if I had been drinking, “No, just like a couple beers with the guys.  I’m just really tired from studying.”  What that really meant was, “I was playing beer pong for the last 7 hours and I plowed through a case of Natty Light.  I don’t know where the library is NEVERMIND having been studying and I just called you up because I know you would pick my drunk ass up and if I’m lucky have sex with me before I inevitably pass out.”  

Come on Bobby Jenks, come up with a better excuse than that.  

Here is what I am thinking:

“Officer I see you pulled me over this evening.  Thank you for that, glad to see you are keeping the streets safe.  You probably think I was drinking due to the fact that I 

a) am slurring my speech

b) just left a strip club

c) have glitter all over me

d) hit another car when leaving the strip club

e) reek of booze

But you see, all of this can be easily explained.  I suck at baseball.  Think about it.  I played in 19 games last year and posted a 6.32 ERA.  You know, my blood alcohol level might be higher than that right now, but that is beside the point.  What I am trying to say is….I am so bad at my job that it drives me to drink. I get paid millions of dollars to throw a small white ball and I’m just terrible.  Adding to that…look at me.  I’m fat.  There is a reason I was at the strip club….NO OTHER WOMAN WOULD TOUCH ME.  So I go to the strip club, let one of the nastier ones jerk me off in the “champagne room” – trust me pal, no champagne back there – and then I go back to my hotel suite after tying one on.  You know how it is.  So how about it, just let me off with a warning, I’ll sign some baseballs for you and your kids and we’ll forget any of this happened.”

 

Bobby Jenks, that is how you handle a DUI.  Not some excuse about muscle relaxers.  (that you clearly mixed with alcohol – fucking idiot)  Get it together buddy.

Oh and next time.  Call a fucking cab so you don’t kill anyone.  Dick.

 

Bobby Jenks DUI

So Bobby Jenks gets arrested for a DUI in Florida.  Apparently he is claiming he took too many muscle relaxants.  

http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2012/baseball/mlb/03/23/jenks.red.sox.dui.ap/index.html?sct=hp_t2_a16&eref=sihp

Huh?  Sounds like when I was drunk back in college and my girlfriend would ask me if I had been drinking, “No, just like a couple beers with the guys.  I’m just really tired from studying.”  What that really meant was, “I was playing beer pong for the last 7 hours and I plowed through a case of Natty Light.  I don’t know where the library is NEVERMIND having been studying and I just called you up because I know you would pick my drunk ass up and if I’m lucky have sex with me before I inevitably pass out.”  

Come on Bobby Jenks, come up with a better excuse than that.  

Here is what I am thinking:

“Officer I see you pulled me over this evening.  Thank you for that, glad to see you are keeping the streets safe.  You probably think I was drinking due to the fact that I 

a) am slurring my speech

b) just left a strip club

c) have glitter all over me

d) hit another car when leaving the strip club

e) reek of booze

But you see, all of this can be easily explained.  I suck at baseball.  Think about it.  I played in 19 games last year and posted a 6.32 ERA.  You know, my blood alcohol level might be higher than that right now, but that is beside the point.  What I am trying to say is….I am so bad at my job that it drives me to drink. I get paid millions of dollars to throw a small white ball and I’m just terrible.  Adding to that…look at me.  I’m fat.  There is a reason I was at the strip club….NO OTHER WOMAN WOULD TOUCH ME.  So I go to the strip club, let one of the nastier ones jerk me off in the “champagne room” – trust me pal, no champagne back there – and then I go back to my hotel suite after tying one on.  You know how it is.  So how about it, just let me off with a warning, I’ll sign some baseballs for you and your kids and we’ll forget any of this happened.”

 

Bobby Jenks, that is how you handle a DUI.  Not some excuse about muscle relaxers.  (that you clearly mixed with alcohol – fucking idiot)  Get it together buddy.

Oh and next time.  Call a fucking cab so you don’t kill anyone.  Dick.

 

An Odd Dream

So I had this odd dream last night:

I was on an airplane that crashed, but I lived.  It was somewhere in Central America and I was flying American Airlines.  I’m not sure why I remember that.  Anyways we crash and then another plane crashes right after us, but it isn’t a plane, it is an RV (kind of like the flying RV in the movie Spaceballs).  So all sorts of vehicles are dropping and I’m wondering why I’m alive.    Strange enough, nobody made a very big deal about it and I was thinking “I just survived a plane crash!  Isn’t that sort of a big deal?  Come on people!”  But nope, nobody cared so I got on another plane, this one flew over the Statue of Liberty (OK, here is where things get REAL WEIRD) and on top of the Statue of Liberty a Russian helicopter has crash landed on the crown.  There are Russians stranded on top of the statue.  Clearly it means I need to leave the airplane (can’t explain how this happened) and go help them.  So here I am on the top of the Statue of Liberty and I am helping the Russians get inside the statue through some portal in the top of the crown, but there are these fat Russian women who are drunk and I can’t get them to move and one keeps falling backward and I have to catch her or she is falling off the Statue of Liberty.  Finally I get them to the portal and this guy is there (like a tour guide) and he is telling us we can’t get down.  So I start yelling at him about how the statue could call over at any moment.  

That’s when I woke up.  Yep.  I’m not even sure what that could mean, but between the plane crash and the Russians, and the Statue of Liberty I think I might have a good spy novel out of this one.  

I’m glad I didn’t talk in my sleep or flail around.  “Get in the Statue of Liberty now!”  Can you imagine hearing someone yell that in their sleep?