So, today is the day. Handy-inny-manuscripty-sampley-thingy-to-agenty-guy-day. My entire life up to this point will be validated or not, by the opinion of a man who wears expensive looking shirts. I picked a handsome agent, because if he fails to like my book, there’s always the offer of blow-jobs. Hopefully he also has a handsome cock. Or at the very least, a tasty one.
The hardest bit of a submission is, of course, the synopsis. Trying to cram an entire novel’s worth of plot into a single page is like trying to describe Maroon 5 without using the words ‘shit’, ‘midget’ or ‘labia’.
The book that goes out today is a very different animal to the one that first dribbled out of my brain-mind many months back, although it shares some similarities. For example, the prolonged anal rape scene is still there. In this latest draft, of course, it’s played for laughs.
The plot has quite literally thickened. There are more thick people in it now. The tone has been quite literally transformed. It’s now a fighter plane that can turn into an ambulance. The language has quite literally evolved. It used to be dinosaurs.
The characters are still the same; well, they still have the same names. They’re actually quite different. Completely different. I’ve actually got rid of all the characters, and set the entire story aboard a spacecraft, in the year 2892, with all the character names assigned to kidney beans, rattling around in a plastic cup. The cup is held by a creature that grew from DNA in the ashes of Joan Rivers’ face. It communicates via a series of bleeps, whistles and vaginal secretions.
It’s a political analogy, obviously.
Ps. I’ve just remembered that, facetiousness aside, my book does actually contain anal rape. It’s the anal rape of a five year old boy, though. So, less funny.