I had another biopsy yesterday with a different method, which was awesomely, eye-stingingly painful--shockingly so. But it seems they got a robust sample of cells, and if it all goes well, I can skip the hospital deep dig version of this test. It was no picnic, it took several practitioners to excavate, but it's over now and on Monday the cancer answer will be revealed. (By the way, the mathematical odds of my having cancer are very, very slim. I mean, super slim.)
So I'm not worried, and I'm already moving on.
You may think this is a cavalier attitude to take, given my lack of luck in most matters lately, but look at it this way, my chance of having cancer is even slimmer than my chance of publishing a novel in this climate. So, for now, I'm putting them both away.
You can be happy to think of me quietly working on my juicy cultural memoir Daddy Dearest. (Just kidding, that's not the title.) My book is more of an attempt to figure out how disinheritance became my fate, a surprise delivered via a secret will. (Who does that crap?) Did you know that only in this country is disinheriting a child a protected right? The rest of the world finds it unthinkable.
BTW, in regard to all this, I've been thinking about asking an agent friend, whom I call SECRET AGENT MAN, to represent the memoir. I'd much rather he get any money that might possibly be made on my career than any of the douches I've met over the years. Plus he's a super good guy, he knows about my blog and all my douchery, including stupid past decisions and dumb impatient ways. He represents very big memoirs, and he just started his own business.
The question is: Will he take me on knowing what he knows about me? I would promise not to post anything he writes to me on this blog, unless he posts it himself. Maybe we could have a totally blog-worthy public relationship, communicating only via LROD, so others can see what an author/agent relationship is like. Well, maybe that goes a step too far. But I do think this book at least stands a better chance of making some dough. It's got commercial appeal, it's got hollywood starlets, and it's got...me.
So, what do you say, SECRET AGENT MAN? Will you take me on?
10 comments:
How many writers are shopping around disinheritance memoirs? Seems like anyone who takes you on is going to put 1 and 1 together real quick.
I haven't shopped it to a soul. It'll be a virgin read. And Ibhope no one else is writing a book about it! BTW, not that many people car who I am.
At this point it would be nothing but an asset for people to know who you are. You've got all of us who will buy your book, plus you've got a media story that should be in the New York Times Blogging-Styles Section, or whatever, to get all the other people who don't know about you interested in your plucky story. Everyone loves an underdog. You are the ultimate underdog of the literary world. Not to mention that most of your rejection letters (the ones that were personal to your work) indicate you are a good writer. You should look like gold to any agent/editor who sees you coming into her/his office. I'm surprised you haven't gotten a flat out offer from someone out there with a brain.
Have you thought about not worrying about an agent until your proposal is done?
It's very close. Besides they make us wait and wait and wait; I'm sure they can stand to wait a little bit while I put on the finishing touches.
OK -- another completely unsolicited but hopefully not tasteless opinion.
I think you should spend a day (no more than 2) going through your novel exhaustively, redlining any parts you LOVE and feel are NECESSARY...and going through earlier drafts that may be in the bowels of your computer, etc to dig out other parts you LOVE...print out and clip all these parts together, like a delightful Frankenstein with invisible seams...focus on drafts that existed before Agent 99 ever entered your consciousness at all...i.e. what you came up with that obviously had enough juice to attract her (before she messed with it).
Ie you've worked really hard on the book. Her reaction matters not at all. It's a book, it's done, it's ready to go out into the world.
I think you should start fresh and query 100 or more agents about the book and see what comes up.
It just takes one.
It also might be particularly satisfying to go back to your original vision, before she entered your scene at all, and 'sell' it to someone else -- thereby obliterating whatever she thought she had "contributed."
Go On Secret Agent Man...take him up on the offer!
PS Hope the cancer answer is a no show!
But you've told the thousands (tens of thousands?) of people who read this blog about your proposed memoir. As soon as someone does get the memoir on his or her desk, that person is either going to think "LROD" or be told by someone else.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not castigating you or anything, I'm just suggesting you plan your response ahead of time.
Anyway, I hope it gets more love than the previous book, and I hope you get a blurb from Appel.
(lol, my word verification is "assassass")
you've lost me now, LROD. What are you asking the agent to represent, an idea? until you have a finished proposal, whatever he says is meaningless. selling non-fiction—as opposed to fiction where you pretty much need a finished ms—is entirely about the proposal, unless you are a celebrity or newsworthy. disinheritance is not enough of a hook on it's own, not nearly, so this is going to succeed or fail based on the writing.
get well, then back away from this kind of stunt posting/writing and see if you really have a great story there.
Actually, he took me on based on the idea and had me finish the proposal. So....um, yeah, I guess I was asking him to go with me on an idea ride.
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