God Damn the Pusher Man
Here, take a taste. Fresh hope, primo stuff, don't cost you a dime.
"My brother-in-law has the piano. Maybe he'll sell it to you?"
Good shit, aint it? This is rock crystal hope we're talking about - cure all your ills.
"Let's call him. John? Hey - listen, do you still have that piano? His ex wants to buy it, pay for a few old regrets."
Yeah, don't that hope taste good? What? Well, yeah, the crash can be a little hard.
"Sorry to inform you I already sold it..."
More hope? Please?
Sorry, baby. Next taste gonna cost you.
Sorry somebody sold you a burn bag, sposa. You could kill them, if you felt like it.
You could kill them, if you felt like it.
Yeah. But it wouldn't accomplish anything; I'd still be addicted to the hope.
Deb, I'm sorry.
---
ION, I just sent another chirpy "Hi! How are things?" sort of e-mail to the nice agent lady. Have I mentioned I hate waiting? That I have no patience, and the longer I have to wait, the more worried and fretful I become? Argh, argh, argh.
Jilli, I know. Believe me, I know. Waiting sucks.
But I'm betting yours come out fine.
Aaaand just heard back from the nice agent lady! (Her company is re-structuring itself, which is part of why she hasn't been in touch.) She says the sample chapters are generally solid, that no, they DON'T suck, and that she is going to have some suggestions for some minor re-organizing of the text. Which she will send to me as soon as she can figure out exactly what those suggestions are.
So, I feel better. I do not know what I would do without you people to flail and whine at.
There, see?
Yes'm. I just feel so ... needy. And whiny. And ridiculous, but oh well.
You feel needy and whiny?
laughing maniacally Sorry, bebe. I have the monopoly on that for the next little while, unless I climb into a bathtub with a fifth of tequila and a razor blade first.
Your stuff is good. I figured they might want some simplifying and possibly restructuring some layouts, but it totally didn't suck. And as you write more, it's going to flow even more easily.
Sorry, bebe. I have the monopoly on that for the next little while, unless I climb into a bathtub with a fifth of tequila and a razor blade first.
But you're not going to do that, because being constantly summoned back from the afterlife so I could yell at you would probably get tiring.
But yeah, I know. I hope things get better for you, and very soon.
