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Date Posted: 11:39:01 08/07/10 Sat
Author: susiej
Subject: Curses! Ah debi, how appropriate to Page's recent post and my answer>>>
In reply to: debikm 's message, "Eat At Joe's" on 09:12:05 08/07/10 Sat

Frodo pooped under the desk again.

Bloody dog, Susan muttered as she crawled under the desk with a wad of paper towels in one had. While crawling backward, she managed to bang her head on the keyboard drawer knocking off the coffee cup. It shattered against the wood floor. She tiptoed carefully out of the room, flushed the poop and grabbed the broom.

In the process of sweeping, she cut her finger. She dumped the glass in the trashcan, stuck her finger in her mouth and continued logging into her emails one-handed only to find another form rejection in her inbox. This one really stung. Shed spent hours reading interviews, pouring over the blog, researching this agents tastes. Shed truly felt this agency and her manuscript were a match made in publishing heaven. She personalized her query, read and reread it hundreds of times checking for mistakes and good flow.

With a flash of anger, she grabbed the mouse to click delete and dripped blood across the computer. To bloody, freaking hell with it! she hissed pushing away from the computer. She rounded up all her familys filthy clothes and started the first load of the day. Frodo went to the door and barked.

Now you go to the door? Isnt it a little late for that?

But he wouldnt stop barking. Susan opened the door, but he didnt go out. He just barked as furiously as a Pomeranian can. Then, he turned and ran. Thats when she noticed the drop-dead gorgeous man in the fine wool suit sitting on her pollen-covered porch chair.

Whowhatare you doing?

Answering your call.

Call? You cant be the plumber. Hes not coming until tomorrowandyoure

About to make all your desires come true.

Susan blinked. Scenes went through her head all the time. She saw the characters clearly. She heard their voices, but never quite this life-like. And her dialogue was usually more original.

The man smiled revealing perfect teeth. Im real, have no doubt. And your right, Your dialogue isnt that clichd.

OK, shed put way too much garlic in last nights lasagna and washed it down with too much red wine.

Seriously, he said though his dark eyes shimmered with amusement. You are not hallucinating. When have you ever hallucinated? Well, we'll pretend to forget that time in college. And the characters talking in your head doesn't count. Thats not hallucinating, Susan. Thats art.

He waved a pale and elegant hand and a piece of paper appeared on the porch table. It glowed faintly, pristine white amid the muddy soccer shoes and rusty yard tools. She blinked several times, but he was still there and so was the paper. She looked closer. It read like a contract for representation from an agency shed never heard of.

He waved his hand again, and the paper, the table, the muddy, smelly shoes morphed into clean carpet under a bright flourescent light. It was there within her grasp, the cover shed always imagined, face out on a display case bigger than Dan Browns but located in the same front and center spot of her local Borders. All sorts of people were snatching the books off the shelves. The guy down the street, who she wasnt even sure knew how to read, was gushing about her main character!

She reached out to pick up one, felt it in her hand, but the vision disappeared leaving only the sting where her cut finger had brushed the hard cover. Blood welled up again. She glanced back at the table. The contract was still there. Shouldnt there be a pen, she asked. Made from a human finger bone?

He chuckled. Such imagination. But really, that would betasteless. The chuckle was gone. And dry. His eyes fixed on her finger. Youve got the ink we need.

Youyou arent going to want my first born, or anything? Believe me. You don't want her. Shes very mouthy.

Do I look like Rumplestilkskin?

Not at all.

Right. And please give yourself some credit. I wont have to spin straw into gold. The manuscripts good. You just need a little help getting it attention. Believe me. Ive got a lot of publishers in my pocket.

Who are you?

His smile was dazzling making it hard to concentrate on his words. But words were important. She knew their power. She forced herself to listen to each and every one. Ive got many names. You can just refer to me as Your Agent, Open Doorway to: the Publishing World, the Bestsellers List, Books Two, Three and a Movie Contract.

Thats a mouthful. Word counts important. Lets justgo with My Agent.

Now youre talking, Susan.

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[> [> OMG!! This is brilliant!! -- debikm, 11:50:26 08/07/10 Sat

I giggled through the whole thing! And I can so see myself ready to sign that contract myself, except I haven't gotten so far as actually querying anything yet... Love it!

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[> [> [> So glad you like it. It was cathartic (grin). -- susiej, 22:20:38 08/07/10 Sat

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[> [> I love this!! >>>> -- Page, 15:17:21 08/08/10 Sun

Can you send him my way next? *G* He seems accomodating enough that I wouldn't even have to compose a query letter. Where do I sign?

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[> [> Ooh, sign me, sign me, Mr. genie-man -- Fi, 15:38:34 08/08/10 Sun

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[> [> This isn't a curse. This is definitely a blessing! >>> -- Myxtress, 10:39:30 08/12/10 Thu

That she must sign in blood proves it. *G*

And I love, love, love, the concept that this man has the publishing industry in his pocket. He is the _ultimate_ agent! And doesn't that just make his sexy as hell! *G*

Okay, seriously, a very fun read that was unique in concept. Loved it!



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