Since Eli's at Nationals, you're stuck with me again. I did get a text message that the literacy signing went well . . . crazy but well. My goddess Suzanne Brockmann was spotted (and they'll be seeing her again as she emcees the RITAs).
But since Wednesday . . .
No news. Luckily, this is a FICTION blog, and we don't need FACTS to have a little fun. We've got a great cast of characters--Eli, Kendra, Paty, Barb, Deb, Jane, and a perfect setting: San Francisco. We've got villains: Book Hoarders! Grumpy Agents! Elevator Hogs! Know-it-Alls! And, we've got plenty of suspense. All in all, we've got the makings of a great tale. Are you ready to play along?
Pick a character (or six), and write a fictional, humorous scene, live from Nationals. You can do dialogue or just give us a synopsis of your predictions.
Here's Mine:
Having just completed her pitch, Paty Jager was startled to see Big Time Editor (BTE) rushing after her.
"Wait! I couldn't help but overhear your pitch to Big Time Agent (BTA)!"
Paty struggled to pick her jaw off the floor. Her feet twitched in nervous anticipation of being shown the door. "Um. Really?"
BTE bubbled with enthusiasm, looking all of eleven. Her real age was probably closer to 25. Just one of the many infants in charge of handing out the golden tickets to the NY publishing world. No, Paty wasn't bitter. At least not very much.
"Your series has NYT bestseller written all over it!"
"I know." Oops. Probably not the best reply, but the circuits between her brain and her mouth had fried.
"Do you have a copy of your proposal with you?"
This HAD to be a trick question. You know, one of those "Stump the Newbie" questions. Luckily, this was her second RWA, and Paty knew the correct answer. "No. Sorry."
"Oh come on!" BTE batted her false eyelashes and adjusted her Calvin Klein suit. "Surely one copy of your MS fit in the cosmetic case allowed by the airlines?"
Okay. Really, there were a half-dozen copies of her proposal sitting in her room. But, she knew better than to admit it. "Not really," she hedged.
"I'd love to get you signed before BTA gets you and offers you to Big Time Rival first! Tell you what, I'm going to head to the ladies room in 15 minutes. First stall on your right. You can just pass me your proposal under the door. It'll be our little secret."
And with that, she strode off in a cloud of expensive perfume and confidence, leaving Paty stupefied. Was she the best thing ever to happen to her, or a horrid practical joke? There was only one way to find out . . .
Of course, in the truth is stranger than fiction category, I'm sure that the REAL stories will be way wackier and way funnier. For the real scoop, you'll want to stay tuned to the blog next week, and join us for our August meeting.
7 comments:
Wavy, LOL, that was a riot. Thanks for the giggle. Wouldn't it be amazing if this very thing happened to Paty!!!! OMG!!!!
Okay, I'll give it a try:
It's Thursday afternoon, and everyone decides to blow off the conference. "Let's take the tour boat out to Alcatraz," someone suggests (although later, no one will be able to say exactly who it was.)
Our intrepid heroines have the boat all to themselves as every other conference goer is busily attending the workshop: "How to Instantly Sell Everything You Ever Write For Big Bucks". The blurb mentions it's a guaranteed process complete with a five million dollar rebate if the tactics explained do not work 100% of the time. Oh, that our ladies had actually read the brochure -- but wait, there was no brochure, the conference went green.
I digress.
After cleaning up a little seasick issue on the poop deck (oops, Deb, remember the Dramamine next time), they all disembark on Alcatraz. One of them fades into the sewer pipe running beneath while the other five start the tour, but this is no ordinary tour, this one is conducted by Nick Cage wearing a dapper California or National Park uniform, I can't quite tell which.
Paty is enthralled with the history, Jane is trying to pry loose a brick to take home as a keepsake, Kendra is casting goo goo eyes at Cage and Barb has found a stray puppy and is feeding it bits of Dim Sum she happened to have in her pocket.
Where's Eli?
Down in the sewer pipes with Sean Connery, that little vixen. But wait, she does not have romance on the mind, she's plotting an action/adventure romantic suspense. What if Cage was a novice with specific experience and bad boy Connery and him had to break into "The Rock"... She's on her cell phone, dialing Ed Harris...
Should someone mention this has been done?
What, and ruin the fun?
Where is everyone else???
Is it really Alice and I all by our lonesome???
Great job, Alice! I love it.
Wavy, great blog! Instead of starting a new book I decided to add the next scene to yours.
The voice in Paty's head zapped each brain cell and demanded she rethink her option. What would it hurt if she did shove a copy of her proposal under stall number one?
She didn't let her brain recalibrate. Her happy feet wove through the packed corridor, out the side door and up four flights of stairs. Breath panting, lips mumbled, "I shouldn't have dropped out of the exercise class!"
She bolted into her room and slammed into Barb. No time for apologies or explanations she shot her roommate a glance in the middle of her forced flight onto her bed.
Barb's landing thrust her legs in the air ready for any OBGYN to commence an examination. Paty swallowed hard and didn't allow herself to think about the payback forthcoming.
Hands jabbed into her suitcase and clutched a pristine copy of her proposal. A frantic wave and Paty rushed out the door.
Inside the bathroom, a reverent tone washed the pale green walls in silence. Was it the first stall to the right or left? She swallowed hard. She couldn't remember.
A sexy pair of hot pink sandals occupied the stall on the left. Big, black, snug loafers toed the spaced in the right stall. Paty froze. What had the young thing wore on her feet? Weren't writers suppose to capture the important details?
That same high-pitched nasal sniff the young thing had introduced and repeated during their conversation broke the reverent solitude. Did it come from the stall on the right or the left? Paty shuffled a step closer to the stalls. Good heavens, why won't the young thing perform an encore?
If she didn't deliver her proposal pronto her sweaty fingers would smudge the print. She told Gerrit professional writers only used the expensive, no smudge, ink cartridges, but he had a coupon and argued every buck saved helped pay her gas to the monthly RWA meetings.
Footsteps sounded outside the door. Paty glanced to the right and to the left. Eyes closed, breath drawn, she swallowed hard and thrust her proposal under the left stall.
A sniffle burst forth from the right stall.
Good grief! Who had she just handed her proposal too? In a panic over her hasty decision, legs reduced to thin pudding, she slithered into an end stall, dropped onto the cold commode and wished she could flush her problem away.
I'm dying, Lori. Just Dying. I might have to come back and keep it going later :) GREAT!
You ladies are toooooo funny! Should I join Eli in the sewer pipe or save Paty from certain doom in the restroom stall. Hey, have you noticed the turn of both of these stories?
Perhaps we should all clean up these settings and return our heroines to the conference proper where I'm SURE they are paying strict attention to every word uttered at their respective workshops so they can compare notes between sessions before they hurry off to the next workshop. **HUGE grin!!**
Thanks for a fun post, Wavy!
OMG X 3!!!! You ladies have me down to a science! LOL
It didn't go quite like that... but you'll have to wait until tomorrow to hear the whole scoop!
And Lori- sister you are one funny cookie baker! LOL
ROFLMAO!!!!!!!!! These are so funny. I love them!!!!
And Alice, we didn't do Alcatraz, but we did do the Presidio. Oooohhhh....
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