Forwarded to Daymond, after I let Jo read it. We'll see.

If it crashes and burns, it crashes and burns. Cookies, crumbling, all that stuff.

I didn't *used* to have any particular dislike of Mondays, but these days, it does seem to be the smackdown day of the week.

I asked as a translator, etc., to broaden the experience, make it more mainstream/ She told me "this is their world. They don't need translation." If anything, mainstreaming takes away from the experience."

I know, I know, I'm not a businessman, haven't crunched the numbers or looked at the bottom line. But I HATE this kind of pigeonholing. What it means is that I'll never read books that might teach me something new, or give me insight into a culture I don't know about, because either the book won't be marketed to me so I won't know it exists, or it will never be published.

But I HATE this kind of pigeonholing.

Not only is it bogus as a gestalt - it's bogus specifically in this instance. Because the target audience here isn't specifically or even primarily young hip black urban hiphop fans between 17-21, or whatever. The entire idea is a broad spectrum woman readership.

Out of my hands - I sent the editor's thing on to Daymond, and we'll see what he says.

But the universe can make up its mind, pretty much anytime now: good shit or bad shit, but MAKE UP YOUR MIND.

It might still be worth trying anyway. Too bad about the big score not happening yet, though.

That's a disappoining response. And a bit confusing, because their idea of how to market the book doesn't sound like what you were pitching.

I'm kinda hoping this one flip-flops again on you.

I'm sorry, Deb. I hope things can turn around on this, because it looks like it would be such an interesting project.

And, back up the roller coaster.

Just talked to Daymond. We're doing the book. Still on, including the club in LA and Magic in Vegas.

Just talked to Marlene. She thinks that based on the editor feedback she got this morning, I should do "Yo Mama Don't Dance" first, as a pump primer. She also thinks that, based on what she heard, the book itself is not an automatic slam (I have no cred in his industry, hence the article, and he has no cred established in publishing yet), and she needs the entire thing written to sell the book.

I have a headache. I have SUCH a headache.

Oh dear. As someone terrified of roller coasters (both metaphorical and otherwise), I sympathize.

But hey, it's good news. He wants to do it, which means you write it. And to do that, you need to be compensated, whether the book is published or not. As long as he knows that, and you can agree on a fair price and a timeline, you're golden.

Sorry about the headache, babe.

And to do that, you need to be compensated, whether the book is published or not.

No. No damned way. My ire is officially up and this is a challenge.

I am not going to be shit on by some twentysomething infant who thinks the American book-buying market is composed of hip urban 20-year-olds.

I am doing this book, one big tight fraught breathless suspenseful look at that world from the POV of the elite men in it. It's going to be so damned good, it'll leave any editor breathless. I'm going to write it and knock it out of the park. This one is going to make some Barry Bonds' splashdown home runs look like bunts.

I am all the way pissed off. I don't give a fuck if I ever see a dime. I'm going to write this and it's going to make Daymond happy.

What's more, it's going to get filmed, one way or the other.

Watch me. It's getting done.

And my head probably would stop aching if I stopped slamming it against the fucking desk.

Boy, deb knows how to throw a gauntlet!