Waiting for Gadot

From time to time my literary agent makes an appointment to talk to me (Thanks, Cynthia!).  Soon she will be traveling to New York to make the summer rounds, hopefully taking a few of my proposals in tow when she coffees and dines with publishers and editors.  And when I say it like that, it all sounds so high-falutin and upwardly mobile, don't it?

The fact is, when I talk to my agent today, we'll be discussing some specifics about a new book proposal I've been working on (and some ancient stuff, too) and she'll be asking me to rewrite the proposal with a fresh slant and aim.  Been there, done that.  It's old hat to me now.  And I'll be glad to do it.

Rewriting a proposal for publishers is not that much different than being married.  I'm always asking my wife, "What do YOU want?"  Sometimes she gives specifics.  Sometimes not. But it's always hard work trying to figure out how I can please a woman with six toes.  (I'm speaking figuratively here, but for your literalists out there, better go home and check your spouse's feet!)

Waiting for an agent to call is also difficult work.  I might be in the middle of another phone conversation, or a meeting, or even sitting on the john when the call comes in.  I've got to be ready to take the call (flush) and then pretend that, heck yes, this is a great time to talk and I was just sitting down to write another chapter, so holy cow this is uncanny!!  How the heck are, ya?! 

Naturally, because I live in Indiana, no one asks me if my agent has called recently.  If I lived in New York or L.A. this might actually be a topic of conversation in Starbucks, but around here most of the questions center on weather and appearances . . . .

What do you think of this cold snap, bub?

Did you see the size of the goiter on that woman's neck?

That's why literary agents rarely call Hoosiers.  Indiana should have it's own time zone.  Heck, we should be our own country. 

When my agent calls today, I'm going to have some fun with her.  I'm answering the phone in a Polynesian accent and saying, "Aloha!"  Maybe this will get us off to a great start talking about the possibilities for my book.  And then I'm going back to Starbucks to get another look at the goiter.