You and I had an
imaginary conversation the other day and I took the liberty to transcribe our
little chat.
First, I would like to
set the scene. You were sitting on a red velvet throne. You had a toy poodle in
your lap. No, scratch that. It was a very small Burmese mountain dog. I was in
my usual tattered hand-me-downs and I was nervously clutching my felt cap like
the Cowardly Lion clutches his tail.
The conversation was
short and to the point. It went like this:
YOU: Did you bring me
a tart? I begin no conversation without a tart.
ME: Yes, mistress.
A raspberry tart. From Walgreens…I hope you are pleased.
YOU: I am less than
pleased, but that is my natural constitution. It is a curse.
ME: Yes, mistress.
YOU: State your
business.
ME: It’s my children,
Mistress Candace. They’ve had nothing but Coco Puffs since Tuesday. The generic
kind, not the name brand variety. I told them…if I could just get my book
reviewed…
YOU: Enough. I saw
this coming a league away! This is an affront! A tart from Walgreens, indeed…
ME: But, this is
not just any book! Well, it sort of is…
YOU: Did you observe
the enormous trash pile on your way past the sentry this morning? It is no
ordinary mountain of detritus. It is comprised of self-published debut books,
like yours, and first generation Kindles, which I find personally repugnant.
ME: I understand.
I wouldn’t call it “self published”…more like “independently published”…
YOU: Regardless. I
plan to burn them all at dawn. Right here in the royal fireplace! The castle is
so cold and chilly when one is queen…
ME: Um, back to
the book. It’s called “Mechanical Town.” Middle grade. But
with cross-over appeal.
YOU: I prefer YA. I
read middle grade books to my cats, and that is a better use than they deserve!
Do you have more tarts?
ME: It has robots.
And boogers. Boys love it!
YOU: I’m sure they
do. And they love anything green from the back of the freezer. What is your
point?
ME: It’s just
that…I’m sure that with a kind word or two from your blog…
YOU: I do not blog,
young man! I put pen to paper. And each tear-stained, dribble of ink bears the
weight of empire!
ME: Right. Well,
that’s all I had to say. It’s on Amazon. It’s free this Saturday, July 21st.
I guess I’ll be going now…
YOU: Indeed you will.
And what will I have the guards call you as they hoist your innards onto the
nearest, rusty petard?
ME: Jim Collette,
ma’m.
YOU: I wish you a
gnat’s smidgen of luck. You will need it. And leave the tarts. The whole box.
No charge for the
transcript. I recommend filing it away under GREAT AUTHORS I HAVE KNOWN AND
FOUND AMUSING.
Thank you, humbly.
Jim Collette
Now, what do you think? I actually almost didn't read it because I thought it was one of those porn spam emails that show up sometimes. I just had a teaser of the first bit in my inbox. But I opened it and read on and then found myself chuckling. And although I didn't accept the book, the letter is definitely stuck in my head and is memorable. And memorable is good. At least sometimes.
by Julie Rieman Duck. My review hasn't gone up, but be sure to watch for it. This was one very emotionally charged book!