Now Available on Amazon

So, I dug up some old zip disks and 3.5" diskettes (amazing, I know—what was that technology? My current desktop doesn't even have a firewire port) to see if I could find a more original manuscript for the novel that Devine Destinies published. I'm 12 pages into the copy from 2009 and equally as far into the preview on Amazon. (No, I will not pay $5.99 to read this.) It's insane how much lamer this book has become.

To recap, Dear Author figured out how to get writing and editing jobs in marketing departments at real companies in the suburbs of Chicago. She decided none of these jobs really recognized how special she is. She decided to stay home and be a real writer. When that didn't work, she went back to working in an office. Then she quit again. Then she became completely isolated and completely unemployable—even the agents and publishers who agreed to work with her would break all ties to her work. Somehow, a publisher took her book all the way to Amazon in October. This blog started after I read the book she published through Lulu, which is The Worst Novel Ever. During a December road trip, a question about that book popped into my head (Why did that main character hate the mom?) and reminded me this blog existed.

The Second Worst Novel Ever was supposed to be published by Sunbury Press and then Wandering Sage and now really is available on Amazon through Devine Destinies. It's been three years since my last post. Maybe somebody actually got her to rewrite the story? Um, they changed the husband's name from Josh to Jake and the corporate job from Vanderlynch to Henderson. The main character's trying to sell a screenplay about a wrestler instead of a screenplay about the ghost of Elvis. Someone inserted a bunch of crap every few words. It's the same only worse.

-2009 version-

I nodded. Therese leaned against a nearby desk. Her job at this point was to record my reaction, then go back to her own desk and make all kinds of nasty notes about me. Even if I say nothing.

-2015 version-
I nodded. Therese leaned against a nearby desk, like a pelican posted on a pier waiting for someone to toss her a fresh fish. Her job at this point would be to record my reaction, then go back to her own desk and document wicked and worthless judgments about me. Even if I say nothing.

All the new terminology does is tell us that a) the main character, a writer, is a terrible writer and b) the main character hates herself. Every adjective added is negative and "feeble" and "pathetic." Who says they're going to a salon to get their "dismal blonde highlights" retouched? It's not a self-deprecating humor because first she would have to be aware of herself. Her diary more obnoxious. I want to root for the main character even less than I did before.

If Dear Author took out her thesaurus and added all these jarring phrases to the manuscript before Sunbury got their hands on it and called it "jarring," I don't know why other than she read it somewhere, like a rejection letter.

You can read the first chapter on Amazon by clicking the "Look Inside!" link:
http://www.amazon.com/Perfect-Chaos-Twelve-Succeeding-Failure-ebook/dp/B014SA90WQ/ref=sr_1_14?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1451757287&sr=1-14&keywords=perfect+chaos

Scenario #4

Ugh. I didn’t take into account what could obviously be happening: I misunderstood the author when she said she “overhauled” the novel about the idiot writer.

_____

From: Author
Sent: Monday, January 21, 2013 2:59 PM
Subject: THE BOOK

Hi

Mostly I got rid of the similes the publisher complained about.  I did manage to rewrite a couple of them, so they’re not completely gone.  But I got rid of most of them.

I thought I did tell you this before.

love,

[Author]

______

Oh, duh! Everyone should reject the editor’s suggestions, get dropped by the publisher, make the changes, and then frantically email the publisher until one receives a second rejection. What no one should ever do is listen to me when I suggest that one ought to focus on the writing, dig deep, think long about the story one wants to tell, and focus on the writing. Dear Author obviously got it right by desperately seeking out her former publisher. But that’s not what I told her...

_______

Hi,

When you said “overhaul,” I thought you had made one really massive change rather than lots of little changes. I thought the change would be something completely from your own head.

But nothing has changed, and you still have unrealistic expectations for the publishing process.

I don’t think you should be trying to publish with Sunbury. If they had good editors, then you would not have been asked to drop “jarring similes.” The character should use jarring similes. If she were a flawless writer, she wouldn’t be writing that journal. She is a bad writer, and so her journal should be kind of bad. It should get better as the story moves along because the longer she stays home to practice writing, the better she should become.

But that would be an overhaul of the book. Your writer should be at home practicing writing. She should not be bellyaching that her “w” key is stuck or that she hasn’t heard from anyone. The same way she is supposed to be becoming a better person because she is getting her thoughts straight. I mean, sitting around complaining, complaining, complaining, and then saying, “Oh, I shouldn’t think that! Thank you, Universe!” is not really a journey to enlightenment.

But those are the things that should have been taken into consideration way back.

To recap: Sunbury is bad. They send newsletters about how overworked they are. They ask for dumb changes. They are bad. Do not beg to work with people who are bad at what they do.

Love,
[Me]


_____________

Dear Author is never going to listen to any of what I’m saying. She will hear that I am not sympathetic and I am not telling her that she has a huge success on her hands. That’s all she wants to hear. But, as I’ve told her many times, she’s not going to make a bajillion dollars publishing one novel. Call me crazy. I refuse to tell her that just to make her feel better after going crazy on a publisher.

Building Suspense

For about two years, our Dear Author has told me very little about what's happening with her novel about the idiotic writer. I'm pretty sure that when her manuscript was picked up in 2011, she was sure her phone would be ringing off the hook, Oprah would resurrect her old show, and Dear Author would be invited to come talk about all the spiritual steps that brought her fame and success. Maybe after Lance's turn, she dreams of the chance to come clean and be loved despite her lies.

If you have read about our Dear Author's tales before, welcome back. Nothing much has happened since your last visit. If you are new, hello. Welcome. To recap, our Dear Author debuted on Lulu, mistaking it for a publishing company akin to Simon & Schuster. I started to dissect why her Lulu venture was the worst novel ever written. Then she pulled it from the market place. She started to shop around a different novel, one about about an impatient, self-absorbed writer who is suppose to discover spirituality. To my surprise, she found a publisher. They planned to release the novel, but not for several months. The plan to edit and release the novel after several months sounded right to me (I mean, I did think the first novel was the worst ever written), but months went by without any word from the editor. As the publication date approached, it seemed less and less likely that there were any plans to have her revise the manuscript. Then one day Dear Author said that they wanted to switch the story to past tense and eliminate all similes. Then they wanted to drop the manuscript altogether. Dear Author was upset, but she had already been shopping around for a new publisher. (You can read about the "bad news" on this post.) She emailed on a Tuesday to say Sunbury dropped her, and then emailed that Friday to say she was working with a new publisher. After some probing questions from me, she came up with the name of her new publisher, Wandering Sage. Okay, great, she had a new publisher. Or did she? Now she is angry that Sunbury has rejected her again. Why?

Honestly, the only brilliant thing here would be if I were writing about myself—if the blogger and Dear Author were the same person. Alas, no. Whatever truth shakes out of this mess, it will not be that thrilling.

Scenario No. 1: Dear Author really did have a new publisher, and just like the previous publisher she had nothing to say about the experience for months. (Everything was "fine" and "FINE!" So I stopped asking.) She was either able to "overhaul" the novel in less than a week, and that is how the new publisher has that version—or they helped her revise it and she's stabbing them in the back by shopping their revisions around.

Scenario No. 2: Dear Author never had a deal with Wandering Sage. It was just a name she pulled out of the air to make me go away. But in the months between then and now, she has been quietly toiling away with revisions. Some miracle has taken place where she has learned that rewriting is the key to good writing!

Scenario No. 3: Dear Author is actually sending harassing emails to Lulu, not Sunbury.

IMPATIENCE

From: Author

Sent: Friday, January 18, 2013 3:13 PM
Subject: IMPATIENCE

Hi

I decided to resubmit my novel because I overhauled the book.  I did an extensive revision.  I felt it was worth a try. The new publisher has the new version.  

What bugs me is that this first publisher kept me waiting so long for a rejection.  Why didn't he just reject it right away?  Why did I have to wait another month?  He's a jerk.  

By the way, I saved the copy of his rejection letter, just in cast he tries to sue me after my book is a  huge success.  If he claims he wanted to publish me but I refused to work with him, I'll have his rejection letter to prove he was the one who dumped me.

Am I crazy or what?  I sound like some of the characters on my favorite soap opera.  So full of myself.

love,

[Author]
_________


Um... Yeah. That was the reply I received. I laughed out loud. Is she in on the joke? I don't know. I wanted to write back about how if she had written this kind of self-awareness into her novel about the idiot writer—or better yet, just had this much self-awareness earlier in her career—she might not be in this position. But then I looked back at the paragraph about how the editor is a jerk for not rejecting her within minutes of receiving her email. So instead I sent her questions. I mean, there haven't been enough posts here lately... 

Hi,

What did you change to overhaul your book?

And how did you never mention that all the times that I asked what was going on with the book...?

Love,
[Me]

Not So Fast

Hello,

You seem to be incredibly impatient. Didn't Sunbury tell you to wait a year before resubmitting? It seems like you only waited three months. And you "rewrote" the novel? Even though a different publisher has it?

[This is where I wanted to bring up how she harassed her Hollywood agent to the point that the agent cried mercy and dropped Dear Author as a client. But then I thought that would just be salt in the wound. The ridiculous, ridiculous self-inflicted wound. She's like a some dumb kid drunk-dialing an ex or compulsively checking dating sites to see what else might be out there. But I didn't say any of that. There were only two paragraphs in my reply.]

Sorry things aren't moving fast enough for you.

Love,
[me]

---

From: Author
Sent: Wednesday, January 16, 2013 3:09 PM
Subject: PUBLISHING NEWS

Hi

Well, I have some big news.  About six or seven weeks ago I wrote to my first publisher.  I told him I rewrote my novel and I asked him to reconsider my submission.  He forced me to complete a book proposal.  I mailed the proposal back to him.  Then I heard nothing from him.  I wrote to him, then his wife, a couple times and asked what was going on.  They never bothered to respond.

Yesterday I decided to send him a new message, since it had a been over a month since the last time I wrote.  Today I got a reply.  He doesn't want to publish my book because it he considers it to be humor and humor doesn't sell well.  

Nice of him to finally let me know what's going on.  Meanwhile, I'm thinking my second publisher should be sending me edits soon, and I will end up getting my book published much faster than if I went back to the first publisher.

This is all my news.  I couldn't tell you about it Sunday, because I had no idea what the first publisher was thinking.  Of course, now I'm hoping the first publisher is very sorry when he says I have a big hit with this book.

Stay happy,

[Author]

Dear Author

From: Author

To: Blogger

Sent: Tuesday, August 20, 2012 7:14 PM

Subject: BAD NEWS

Hi

Guess what?  My publisher has decided not to publish my book.  I don't know what I did wrong. I wrote him a note and told him I will allow his editor to change my similes if that will make things better.  But I really don't know what I did wrong.  Maybe he just thinks I'm a bad writer. I don't know.

Now I have to try to find another publisher.  This means I can't count on selling my book and making the money to pay our taxes.  Damn.

Bad news.

love,

[Author]

-----

From: Blogger

To: Author

Sent: Friday, August 24, 2012 5:04 PM

Subject: Re: BAD NEWS

Hi,

I haven't heard anything more from you, but as much as I hope you're not beating yourself up over the fallout of this deal--IF it did end--I also worry that, as your email says, you're "trying to find another publisher." Why? Please stop with the publishers already. That industry is done. It's all about self-publishing and self-promotion now. You need to go back to the email I sent you a year ago (?) about how to establish a presence on the internet. Prospective publishers are going to be looking to see how many friends and followers you have because they want to know what sort of audience you command. So, DO NOT focus on publishers. Start with your manuscript. Then find "friends" and readers. Then get your "friends" to pay you for your writing. Then publishers will pay attention because you've proven there is money to be made. You have to do all the work for the publisher.

So, again, manuscript, "friends," money, publisher. In that order.

Love,

[Blogger]

----

From: Author

To: Blogger

Sent: Friday August 24, 2012 9:35 PM

Subject: Re: BAD NEWS

Hi

I am already working with a new publisher.  They are not a self publisher.  They are supposed to send me a contract.  I may get published this way.

I tried to establish a presence on the internet, and it did me no good.  I don't know how I can do this.

Thanks for your advice,

[Author]

----

Before I even receive this email, our dear Author dashes off another...

----

From: Author

To: Blogger

Sent: Friday August 24, 2012 9:50 PM

Subject: MORE STUFF

Hi

I meant to tell you I have more proof the editor I was working with at Sunbury was not too bright. She moved all the periods I had inside my parenthesis to the outside.  This is wrong.  You can check ELEMENTS OF STYLE and you will see I am right. I never said anything about this to her, because I didn't want to upset her or have her try to tell me I'm wrong.

I've been thinking that if I can't find another publisher, I might resubmit my book to Sunbury in a year.  I was thinking of doing this because the last note from the publisher implied they might be willing to look at it again.

Be happy,

[Author]

---

From: Blogger

To: Author

Sent: Tuesday, August 28, 2012 3:06 PM

Subject: Re: MORE STUFF

Hi,

What is it that you're looking for? What does a book deal mean to you?

Love,

[Blogger]

---

From: Author

To: Blogger

Sent: Tuesday, August 28, 2012 4:14 PM

Subject: Re: MORE STUFF

Hi

I'm not sure what your questions mean.  To me a book deal means I will find a publisher who won't charge me anything to get my book published.  He will also help me market the book. 

My new publisher only pays a 20% royalty rate.  My previous publisher would have paid me 35% for any e-books I sold.  This is why if this first book sells well, I plan to find an agent and hope I can sell my second novel to a big time publisher who will pay me a fare rate.

Stay happy,

[Author]

---

From: Blogger

To: Author

Sent: Tuesday, August 29, 2012 11:14 AM

Subject: Re: MORE STUFF

Hi,

My question means what is it that you're looking for? No matter how much evidence is presented to you about the current climate of book publishing, you insist on sending query letters to publishers. It seems to be the only thing you do. You seem to be pounding the pavement in pursuit of accolades. What is it you're looking for?

You have a lot of people in your life who want to help you; we're rooting for you. But none of us can help you if you won't let us.

Love,

[Blogger]

---

From: Author

To: Blogger

Sent: Wednesday, September 5, 2012 4:23 PM

Subject: IN RESPONSE

Hi

My last publisher was willing to pay me 20% for hard copies and 35% for e-books.  I don't know why you think I would only get 10%.  I guess I didn't realize downloads only sell for 99cents.  If you look on Amazon, downloads usually sell for $9.95.

I believe my new publisher is called Wandering Sage. They are from Michigan.  I think.  I'm not sure.  This may not be entirely true. 

I was thinking of sending my novel to Sunbury just to try to get it published.  I mean, the guy made it sound like they might be willing to consider it again.  I figured I'd never find another publisher, but I was wrong.

Hope this answers your questions.

love,

[Author]

---

From: Blogger

To: Author

Sent: Wednesday, September 5, 2012 10:55 AM

Subject: Publishers

Hi,

You seemed anxious to get off the phone on Sunday, so I didn't get to ask you any questions about your conflicting emails...

I thought your last publisher was offering you only 10% royalties on paperbacks sold. What is the 20% for with the new publisher? I mean, 10% of $14.95 is way more than 35% of a 99-cent download. So what does 20% mean?

Who is your new publisher? Which novel did they agree to publish? Is this someone you found when you got annoyed with Sunbury? Is this a whole different novel?

Why would you send Sunbury your manuscript again? Didn't they prove to be lousy at editing and publishing? Do you plan to massively rewrite that manuscript in the next year so that the character is more enlightened by the end, suiting Sunbury's need for self-help and 18th century Age of Reason books?

Best wishes,

[Blogger]

---

From: Author

To: Blogger

Sent: Wednesday, September 5, 2012 4:22 PM

Subject: IN RESPONSE

Hi

My last publisher was willing to pay me 20% for hard copies and 35% for e-books.  I don't know why you think I would only get 10%.  I guess I didn't realize downloads only sell for 99cents.  If you look on Amazon, downloads usually sell for $9.95.

I believe my new publisher is called Wandering Sage. They are from Michigan.  I think.  I'm not sure.  This may not be entirely true. 

I was thinking of sending my novel to Sunbury just to try to get it published.  I mean, the guy made it sound like they might be willing to consider it again.  I figured I'd never find another publisher, but I was wrong.

Hope this answers your questions.

love,

[Author]

---

From: Blogger

To: Author

Sent: Thursday, September 6, 2012 11:26 AM

Subject: Re: MORE STUFF

Hi,

Which novel is your new publisher producing? Based on the Wandering Sage Publications' site, I can only assume it's your Harry Potter knock-off. I would hope you don't plan to publish [the one about the idiot writer] with Wandering Sage but are still talking about sending it back to Sunbury Press.

Last year, you said, "I sold them my book [about the idiot writer]...  As far as I know, I make 10% off the paperback copies they sell."

I'm starting to notice that the way you write about your publishing deals sounds like you don't care. You refer to everything as "as far as I know" or "I think." It doesn't sound the least bit like you care to make any money. But you also aren't overcome with the art of writing either. It all makes me wonder how much longer you plan to keep doing this if you have no passion for the money or the art. I mean, think of your answer to "What are you after?" Where's the joy?

Love,

[Blogger]

---

From: Author

To: Blogger

Sent: Thursday, September 6, 2012 4:19 PM

Subject: QUESTION

Hi

Why are you hoping I didn't send [the one about the idiot writer] to Wandering Sage? Do you know something about this publisher I don't know?  Is there some reason I should tell them to cancel my contract?  As far as I know, they're a good company.

Let me know.

love,

[Author]

---

From: Blogger

To: Author

Sent: Friday, September 7, 2012 8:44 AM

Subject: Re: QUESTION

I have no information for you about Wandering Sage.

God bless.

 ---

"God bless" is code here for "please stop trying to write and sell novels."

Can anyone figure out from her emails which book she is publishing with Wandering Sage or why she would send Sunbury Press an unrevised version of [the one about the idiot writer] for a second round of nonsense?

Sad Trombone

Click to hear

The other day I received an email titled "BAD NEWS."

When I forwarded it to my husband, he thought someone had died. No. Not even close.

Months ago I'd had this sudden terrible feeling in my stomach, and I said to him, "Do you really think they'll publish her novel?"

"No," he said. Just flat out, no sugar, n-o. There was no way Sunbury Press would publish the author's novel.

He and I had joked that at some point the publisher would have to realize that the Second Worst Novel ever—the tale of a writer who whines a lot and refuses to make changes—was written in first person because it is our dear Author's story. And we would shout, "Soilent Green is people!" and laugh, but at that moment—that "no"—was without humor.

Months passed. I was extremely skeptical of Sunbury. Why were they putting off sending the author notes? The publication date would be pushed back and still no edits arrived. Was their editing process simply going to be a list of typos she needed to change before they hit "print"? They didn't seem to be allowing any time for a real revision. If they didn't understand how badly the manuscript needed to be revised, what was wrong with them?

When the edits finally arrived, the author was categorically opposed to every last one of them—everything from "move the period to the outside of the parentheses" to "put the names of books insides quotes." The solution to the author's jarring tone was to change everything from present to past tense and remove every simile.

When these "edits" were recounted to me, I imagine that the manuscript was passed from person to person—from editor to assistant to janitor to someone's 7th grader—until they found a willing "editor," all the while never knowing that they could just negate the contract because the author had grown so frustrated with Sunbury's lack of attention that she had been shopping the novel around to other publishers.

After some back and forth over email, Sunbury finally told the author they cannot publish her novel at this time. Somehow this was a surprise. This was "BAD NEWS."

I wasn't sure what to say to the author. I mean, I hadn't told her any of my previous thoughts about the situation (e.g. Your manuscript is lousy; if your publisher doesn't ask for sweeping changes, readers ought to demand their money back; your publisher is a joke...), and it's not like I was rooting against her. I hate the manuscript, but I didn't want them to cancel her book deal.

A Deal Has Been Struck!

Apparently the author has "sold" the second worst novel ever (see posts labeled "the one about the idiot writer") to Sunbury Press. I was shocked, but maybe they didn't read the whole manuscript yet. That or they believed they could still do something with it. (In which case, they have no idea how opposed the author is to revisions (let alone the sweeping changes to plot and characters that would need to take place).)

Rather than re-open the second worst novel ever, I re-read my posts. I had been trying to remember what it is that just doesn't work about that story--especially now that House of Lies in on TV and completely amazing. The main character of the second worst novel ever does the "afterwork" that the characters in House of Lies are trying to secure. House of Lies is riveting. The second worst novel ever is terribly boring. According to my posts here, it is not simply because the main character whines about every last thing without ever DOING something but because she runs away from her problems (the House of Lies company) too quickly. Does Sunbury Press know that? How far did they get into this story? Did the author do such a terrible job of describing what Project Managers and Partners do that Sunbury Press has no idea what kind of story they could have?

Man. I can't believe she "sold" this story. Isn't that so ridiculously uplifting to anyone with a dream of becoming a successful artist?

She's Still At It

Now that her favorite soap opera has officially gone off the air, the author has resolved to write and sell a new novel. Something based on a book that's already been published and turned into a movie. In the meantime, though, she is fielding offers like "If you pay us $20,000, our company will... do something." What on earth is a "publisher" going to do with $20k that is any different than what Lulu did for $350? I will state right now that anyone can go to the bank, ask for cash, and then set it on fire. You do not need a middle man.

Back to the point, I believe that she is still working to find a "real" publisher for her "first" novel—the Worst Novel Ever. Ten minutes ago I decided to pick the book back up (because she has never reclaimed her copy), and couldn't get farther than a page and a half into it. It's so bad. So, here we are again...

Dear Author,

Before approaching publishing companies, you really ought to revise your writing. I don't trust any of the offers you've received thus far because I've read your novel. Who in their right mind is excited to represent this? Within the first 24 lines it's clear that you aren't depicting the story you claim to have written. (I've inserted numbers in order to help save space here...)

From the beginning, Angela knew the Jasper-Teasdale wedding would be one of her worst. They were simply too pretty. (1) The bride and groom, that is. Like, GQ ties the knot with Cosmo. All blond and blue eyed and big through the chest. (2) No doubt these kids never suffered the problems of commoners; zits, bad breath, split ends. (3) And their fingers looked worn to the bone from helping count the family money. (4)

Heir to the Municipal Oil fortune, Brandy Jasper wore a brand new outfit each time she visited Angela's office. (5) Today she dressed in a linen jumper, peach colored, with matching, leather heels. (6) Her hair lay knotted atop her head like a biscuit on a plate (7), several gentle curls bound by a wide, gold barrette. Her flawless look could put a beauty queen to shame. Angela could hardly begin to guess how many hours Brandy might devote to the mirror when her big wedding day finally arrived. (8)

Trevor Teasdale, meanwhile, focused on smelling like a prince. (9) Today it amounted to a combination of oils that reeked of fresh hay mixed with wet towels. While Brandy didn't seem to mind the odor a bit, Angela wanted to crack a window (10) within ten minutes of inviting them to take a seat. Like Brandy, Trevor appeared well dressed, though Angela had seen his Perry Ellis shirt before. (11) He saved his best outfits for his hockey, polo, and tennis games. (12)

(I guess saying I got "a page and a half into it" was an exaggeration.)

1. This narrator is upset that she's getting paid to plan a wedding for a rich, beautiful couple...?
2. Have you seen a cover of either of those magazines in the last 20 years?
3. I don't like your use of punctuation. Why a semicolon? Why are there so many commas in the next paragraph?
4. This is what I'm talking about. Your sarcasm is off. We have no reason to believe you're switching tones from oddly phrased observations to stinging wit. They sound like pretty people with ugly hands.
5. "Municipal Oil" doesn't sound exclusive. "A brand new outfit each time" sounds simply hygienic.
6. I highly doubt Cosmo-incarnate would be wearing something she found in the handbook for good Christian wives.
7.  "A biscuit on a plate"? Seriously?
8. No, seriously? "A biscuit on a plate"? Oh, wait. This is supposed to be referencing your use of "big wedding day." The narrator is in the wedding industry. There is no bigger day.
9. At first read, it sounds like he is sitting in his chair, concentrating very hard on the way he smells.
10. Maybe you ought to show and not tell...
11. This is so wrong on so many levels. The narrator seems to detest the couple for being materialistic, but then turns around and seems insulted that he is wearing a Perry Ellis shirt she's seen before. I'm not sure if the narrator if she's more offended that it's Perry Ellis or just that she's seen it before.
12. "Games"? Within three paragraphs I have enough evidence to conclude that either the narrator or the author is clueless. Possibly both.

Now that you say you have this extra hour a day, Dear Author, to focus on your writing, could you please focus on your writing. It needs your attention.

Thanks.

Rumpshaker: A Terrible Screenplay

Dear Reader,

I know it's been a really long time since I've added anything to this blog (and that last new post (about the tabs) was really unfocused and lacking any sort of bite), but I'm back with a script. It's completely ridiculous. Over Christmas, I stayed with our dear author who inspires this blog. (I forgot to bring her copy of the worst novel ever and she forgot to ask for it, so, oh joy, you can look forward to future installments dissecting the worst novel ever.) I decided to look around for any of my old things that I might like to take back home with me. Somehow I decided I needed to make room for a script from 2001, a rough draft with my notes scrawled all over it in purple ink.

Let's ballpark this as the 25th screenplay written by our dear author. Let's assume that by now she really knows how to write a feature length screenplay—structure, character development, etc.—because she's read all about how to make a fortune as a screenwriter. After completing the first dozen, dear author should find it easy to move the story along from Page 1 to 120—especially when it's an idea she's really jazzed about.

Our dear author took the idea for this screenplay from a joke I relayed to her. My best friend and I were speeding down an empty interstate one morning and happened to pass a construction crew. They were maybe a hundred yards off the road and we were flying along, but my friend rolled down the window to scream a catcall at them. Then we laughed too hard. Mostly, it was hysterical to me because this was the only way I was ever going to be outgoing enough to hit on someone—racing by at a distance, hidden in a car, never saying a word. So, obviously, the idea of a couple of Amish girls trying to pull the same stunt instantly popped into my head. My friend and I continued laughing as we thought of two girls acting out, but then being stuck on the scene in their slow buggy. Just picture it...

Our dear author latched onto this! She saw it all! A couple of Amish girls sneaking off to Spring Break! It would be a blockbuster! She would be famous!

I asked for a first crack at it (I mean, sneaking off to Spring Break was my idea), but she was on fire! I would be allowed to revise edit read it. (Come on. These purple edits never made it into a Word file.)

Our dear author did some research. Apparently the Amish need to make sure they really want to be Amish, so they go out and experience rumspringa (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rumspringa). She read young adult novels about groups of Amish kids sitting around smoking, drinking, watching TV, and driving muscle cars. The script seemed D.O.A. to me, but she was still sure this would be great. She took me for walks and blathered on about her ideas for who the characters would be and what would happen to them. My god... That sentence reads like I'm her pet dog or something. And with the state this script is in, I think the pet dog could have done just as solid a job. I mean, that's all she wanted from me—pant and run in circles because it's all just so exciting.

So, here we go. There's no title page or header on this document, therefore we shall call it "Rumpshaker." We know from the get-go that Rumpshaker is terrible because it's only 97 pages, a sure sign that the author is missing a whole act. (If the actual title had been Rumpshaker and someone anywhere in these 97 pages had said, "All I wanna do is zoom zoom zoom in your boom boom," the lack of story might have been forgivable. (Also, if our dear author had listened to "Rump Shaker" and stopped dwelling on "Where the Fun Is" and other Spring Break movies from the '60s for which I cannot track down, maybe this story would have had a fighting chance.))

Rumpshaker opens with scenes of Sarah the 17-year-old main character's quiet life. She works hard on the farm and loves her big Amish family. Her best friend, Rebeccah, 17, however, dreams of running away to become a movie star. (Guess where dear author's sympathies lie...) By Page 4 they have hit the road. By the end of Page 4, they have ditched the horse. (Yes, four pages into this story and our dear author has already abandoned the core inspirational visual. "EXT. - COUNTRY HIGHWAY - NIGHT / A horse draws a carriage as the sun begins to set" is the only appearance of a horse and buggy. No construction crew. No Amish Girls Gone Wild and dealing with the ramifications.) Rebeccah bullies Sarah into taking a Greyhound to Pittsburgh. At the bus station they meet an angry "Krishna convert" before being rescued from a farting homeless man by Jenny, 17, a feisty piece of white trash. We are 10 pages into this script now. This is it. This is our big set up. The main characters make a decision that will send us down the rabbit hole...

Jenny invites the girls to come home with her. She gives them new clothes to wear, takes them to a club, introduces them to other degenerates. Sarah, our good girl, finds herself attracted to Jake, one of the degenerates. Our Amish girls head to Florida to stay with Jenny and her friends. They smoke and drink their way through 30 or 40 boring-ass pages of driving. A love triangle is established: Jenny used to date Jake, but now he's way into Sarah, who will bend Amish will smoke and drink to impress him.

They arrive in Miami where Jenny's aunt lives. Everyone goes to the beach. The aspiring movie star immediately dons a bikini, but Cassie, the aunt, gives the good girl a "tasteful sundress" to wear. Too many pages are devoted to furthering the anti-climactic love triangle. Then they all go get themselves fake IDs. They go to a club for one page. They go back to the beach for another page. They go to dinner with Cassie, who reports that a movie is being filmed right now in Miami—"some teen flick, and they're looking for extras." Jenny, who can't wait for Sara to hit the road, tells Rebeccah that she has to go get herself a job as an extra so she can stay in Florida. Sarah decides (on the next page) that she will hit the road. In very much the fashion of our dear author, Rebeccah begs her to stay: "Please. One more day. I need you with me when I try out. You'll give me confidence."

We are now three-quarters of the way through this script... Rebeccah auditions, the group goes to celebrate Sarah's last night in town. The love triangle comes to a head (sort of) when a stranger at the club hits on Sarah. Jake rescues her. They get flirty. Jenny gets angry. Jake denies he has any feelings at all for Sarah. Sarah is crushed. The next morning everyone is shocked (for three seconds--seriously) that Sarah is missing. Sarah says she doesn't have enough money to take a bus home. No one offers her the cash, but Jenny continues to say she can't wait for Sarah to get lost. Rebeccah is offered two days of work as an extra—there's no going back now! "REBECCAH: Sarah. Don't you see? I'm on my way. After this it's Hollywood!"

We are now ten pages from the end of this script. "Cassie and the kids have dinner." The aunt suggests they all go to the county fair. There (where we lose all sense that this should be the Miami-Dade County fair) the aunt encourages Sarah to enter a milking contest. She wins first prize—$100. Now she can get on the bus and go back home.

But what to do about her never-really-got-off-the-ground-relationship with Jake? Sarah says she is going home to tell her family that she plans to never ever leave them again. Not unless it was for something—or someone—very special. The next day she kisses Jake twice before boarding the bus. The last thing we see is the bus rolling past a sign greeting travelers to God's country. The end. Barf.

And I know what you're thinking: Maybe it's not that bad. Maybe it's just the way the story is summarized here. I assure you, this story is awful. When you skim it, you get the full effect. Seeing as I created the idea, I will always look at it as a writer first. I want to immerse myself in each sentence and nitpick every last syllable. But normal people don't read scripts that way. What's happening here? Nothing. Five 17-year-olds stand around, flirting in a very non-committal way, saying nothing shocking, doing nothing extraordinary. They kind of flirt. They complain about being hungover. The end. No one's faith is tested. There is no journey of self-discovery. This is like a really tame documentary about an uneventful road trip. Aside from that, here are some reasons to hate this script:

1) The author obviously only likes three of the characters—none of whom are the main character. She seems to be relying on the fact that we will root for the main character because she is the main character. She seems to put more time into wanting the audience to like the aunt than anything else.
2) The author did not do nearly enough of the right kind of research (brushing up on "humor" would have been a start, not to mention "teens" and "Amish"). If she had wanted to be really cool (like the cool aunt), she should have said, "Hey, we should do this drive. Let's go to Miami!"
3) Nothing happens. And I don't like any of these characters enough to want to watch them do nothing.

When I first nabbed this script to critique here, I was excited to show off my rewrites. But, come on. This is a piece that's meant to be performed—every last word could change but the time filming wrapped. What matters is do we know who the characters are? Do we know what they want? Do we care?

Oh, okay. Let's just laugh at our dear author.

First we have Sarah, who wants nothing more than to be meek and pleasant. She has no memorable lines.

Then we have Rebecca. "Rebeccah sits up, faces Sarah. / REBECCAH: Don't tell me I can't. You hear? I want to be an actress. I'm going to be a star."

They meet...

JENNY, 17, steps between the girls and the homeless man.

JENNY: Beat it asshole.

The homeless man sizes her up.

JENNY: I said beat it, kumquat. Or do you need me to kick your balls from here to China?

We briefly meet Jenny's mother.

JENNY'S MOTHER: You bitch.

She throws a plate on the floor.

JENNY'S MOTHER (cont.): You sit on your ass, listening to music, snapping your gum and smoking all day. Why can't you do the dishes?

Jenny picks up a coffee mug, throws it on the floor.

JENNY: Whore.

Sarah and Rebeccah stand in awe as they watch this ridiculous fight unfold.

Somehow I think Sarah should have bolted for the door and broken out a Bible. But the three girls are fast friends, so they change clothes and hit a bar. They sneak through the window because they are, after all, only 17. There they meet Eric, 18.

ERIC: Aren't you going to introduce us?

JENNY: Sarah, Rebeccah, meet Eric.

Eric slides into the booth.

ERIC: Hey there. What're you drinkin'?

REBECCAH: Sloe Gin Fizz!

ERIC: Sloe Gin. Some of us call it Slow Sin. Makes you want to dance naked. With everyone in the room. (to Sarah) And what have you got?

This will be the height of Eric's humor. He is an aspiring comedian. It would be okay for him to be totally unfunny for 90 minutes if the rest of the ensemble were funny or anything funny happened to them. But Eric is it. He lobs joke after meticulously written joke.

Jake, 18, arrives a short time later. He works at the bar. It's his last night before he prepares to head off to MIT. "Jake spots Sarah, likes what he sees. They stare briefly, then Sarah ducks her head, blushing." This would have been a fine mismatch—the guy who aspires to create technology falls in love with the girl who's only used a phone once in 17 years—but Page 19 is the only place where MIT is ever mentioned. Jake could be Eric, but with fewer lines.

Oh, now we're on Page 24. It's time to be funny again...

JENNY: Come on, Jake. You and me... and two Amish girls. You'll have so much fun. I promise.

JAKE: I was thinking Colorado. Or maybe California.

JENNY: My aunt is a blast. Miami is wild.

JAKE: I don't know. Florida. All those people with mouse ears. Kind of creepy.

(Wait for it... If you know our dear author, if you know her idea of funny, it's coming...)

...Next thing you know, you're talking like Minnie Mouse.

ERIC (Minnie voice): Come on, Jakey. Let's party. This is Miami. We'll ditch that Mick Mouse (sic) and chase each other's tail.

The biggest distinction between Sarah and everyone else is that she's supposed to speak properly. All that amounts to is her lack of contractions. In the writing process (way back in 2001 or whenever), I decided this needed to be called out as a joke. It falls completely flat. Because it was lame? Maybe. Because we were trying to mash two different senses of humor? Maybe. Again, though, it should have been Sarah's devotion to her faith that set her apart, not her use of "I shall."

Eric is extremely obnoxious. Someone in this group needs to be obnoxious and he serves that purpose. It could be funny. What could be much funnier is the reactions to him. It's an easy opening to conflict, problems, drama, memorable scenes... That might have led to a better script.

Hmm... Nothing seems that awful or that brilliant as I scan this again. When you're looking at it as a poorly researched rough draft. When you think of it as a major blockbuster... Well, that's just completely absurd. No one was going to pay to produce this script. Even with all my brilliant running jokes. (Jenny's birth name is "Moon Beam" and somehow the author never revisited that! Where are the references to rumspringa?) So, I'll leave you with this... (Quick, get yourself a tissue first.)

JAKE: Rebeccah's not the only one who'll miss you.

SARAH: No?

JAKE: I'll write you, too.

SARAH: That would be good.

JAKE: And one day I'll come see you.

SARAH: Will you?

JAKE: As soon as I can. But I know you have no telephone, so I'll have to write to let you know when that will be.

SARAH: Yes, write.

He takes her hands.

JAKE: Will you write back?

SARAH: Of course.

JAKE: And do you want to see me?

She blushes.

SARAH: Yes.

JAKE: I know you're Amish and I'm not, but I have to believe there's hope.

SARAH: Maybe.

So moving. I take it all back. Rumpshaker is amazing!

Because this needs further commentary

[I wrote this months ago, but only saved it as a draft until now...]

Hopefully you've read the previous post (click here), otherwise this might not make a whole lot of sense.

That's the excerpt you send out? Seriously? Brandy is not the main character. Trevor is not the main character. That fight has little to do with the story. If I read that excerpt, I would assume you are a poor man's Candace Bushnell. I would also assume the rest of the story to be about an engaged couple working through some issues—not a "tender, sensitive" tale of two sisters learning to say good-bye to their mother or learning to embrace their new lives as caretakers. In fact, it sounds like Angela is supposed to be a therapist, not a wedding coordinator.

When Brandy and Trevor appeared for their next regularly scheduled appointment with Angela, no one said a thing about the way their last visit to Angela’s office had ended.

And then we launch into dialogue...

“We’re ready,” Brandy said.

“Speak for yourself,” said Trevor.

“Is the carriage all set?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Did they say who the driver will be?”

“I think the name they gave me was Marcia Somebody. Do you mind having a female driver?”

“She minds not having Jason show up at the church.”

“Stop it, Trevor.”

Wait. Who's talking?

“There she was, for everyone to see, with her nipples aimed like two happy astronauts—straight at the moon.”

Brandy roared with delight at that comment. “Two happy astronauts! That’s just so Trevor!”

Trevor likes weird analogies?

Trevor sat back in his chair, fixed his eyes on Brandy. “I’ll get even. You wait.”

“I told you, there’s nothing to get even for.”

“My pals are bringing in a stripper straight from D.C. And you know about the women there. I hear she can do more with two little grapes and a pair of high heels to make a man happy than twenty women in string bikinis.”

“She’s allowed to strip, but nothing else,” said Brandy.

“We’ll see.”

“Those are my rules. No touching.”

“What you don’t know, I don’t need to tell. Those are my rules.”

Brandy leaned toward him, almost chin to chin. “No touching her, Trevor.” 

I have to admit, this is a better fight than any other than appears in the book. Because it uses words. And they sound like real people. Not people I care to read more about, but still. I have to come back to "fights" another time.

“I can’t promise anything right now,” Trevor warned Brandy.

“Then consider us divorced.”

“We’re not even married!”

Brandy grabbed her purse from the floor, turned toward the office door. 

And . . . scene.

What? That's it? You have her just turn toward the door and I'm supposed to call you up and ask for the rest of the book? Sorry. Not even for the $5 digital version.

The End is Nigh

Sadly, you plan to come to visit and take back your copy of The Worst Novel Ever. I haven't made the time to relocate my list of things to say about your novel on this blog, but even if I did have it right here next to me right now there isn't much reason anymore to explain to you what all my notes mean. You've moved on. You are looking for other ways to make money off your writing. Before I lose this copy, though, let me at least explain what all these pink Post-It tabs mean (if I can remember).

Tab 1: I have no idea what this one is marking. It's on a page where Angela's narrator voice is bitching about a card she found wherein Miss Nevada congratulates Angela's husband on his marriage but also regrets not being his wife. This sounds good. It isn't. The flames of rage that Angela supposedly feels are only lukewarm to the reader.

Tab 2: "Angela practically choked on her own saliva." For real? That sentence just about sums up how ridiculous the scene is. Angela is still narrating. She has moved in with Bev and invited her son Josh to dinner at the house. Bev's daughter pushes Josh to tell his mom what's on his mind. He says, "She's talking about . . . how we're so fucked up."Angela then "practically" chokes on "her own saliva" because she is so shocked to hear her son use the "f-word." Supposing that this were satire, the next two paragraphs would be perfect.

"Well . . . well . . .," Angela said, unable to keep the needle moving across her brain.

When the doorbell interrupted in jolly fashion a minute later, Madison leaped to her feet, hurrying to see who might be there. Angela, meanwhile, silently fondled her silverware, turning over her knife, her spoon, her fork, then starting with the knife again. She could hear Bev speaking to Josh, but she didn't pay attention to their conversation. For all she knew, they were discussing how Josh really should have run away from home long ago, before he reached this point where he found it so necessary to speak the kind of words Angela had always hoped she would never hear from him.

Absolutely brilliant if this were about a woman who learns what's really important in life—or at least demonstrates it to the readers. But this is not that story.

Tab 3: The first page of the chapter "Love Potions" is flagged. All of a sudden this novel about a woman who irrationally decides to abandon her son and husband takes a bizarre turn into romantic comedy territory when Angela interferes with Bev's love potion ceremony. Again, for real? The woman who is the full-time care giver for her ailing mother has time to brew up crazy potions that really work? It feels even more like Mama, the vegetable, must be pushing 100 and Bev has been doing this for decades rather than days. Then the potion actually works and "Tree Man" starts to throw himself at Angela. And I want to vomit.

Tab 4: Angela recounts her wedding day in the narrator's stream of consciousness. Apparently she finds the energy to deal with all the insanity of brides because she wishes she had had some guidance back when she was getting married. But it all comes off as the novelist recounting her own simple wedding and looking down her nose at people who place too much importance on picking out flowers and purchasing a veil. After three pages of this trip down memory lane, I wonder why Angela wants to be a wedding coordinator when she obviously hates weddings so much.


Tab 5: This seems to be the first of many tabs flagging the extreme violence in this novel. In this particular case, Angela debates how to stop Brandy and Trevor, her "nearly-weds," from killing each other and demolishing her office furniture shortly before the two have passionate make-up sex in front of her. At this point, we're on page 182—about a third of the way through the story—and the way the violence is written sounds out of place, out of character, and rather alarming. But it's really nothing compared to what's coming farther down the road.

Tab 6: A hundred pages later, we're now at the end of the scene you posted online to entice readers to purchase your novel. Is it a scene about Bev and Angela and Mama and Angela's husband and his possible mistress and Josh, the son we all forget about? No. It's not about any of those people—the family in this family drama. No, this is the scene where Brandy and Trevor fight about Brandy's behavior at her bachelorette party.  It's one of the few scenes in which those two characters appear. See previously published posts for more explanation on why I would flag this.

Tab 7: Bev retaliated, swung at Angela, socked her in the jaw.

"Stop it, Bev! Stop being a whore!"

Page 360. The violence and bizarre factor have escalated to new heights. We are reading this from Angela's point of view, which means we will have to read it again from Bev's point of view. The sisters have already gotten into a crazy, brawling fist fight after picking berries one morning somewhere between pages 182 and 360. And we had to read about it twice. And both times it felt strange. These are white women in a supposedly upscale suburban neighborhood. And they're punching each other? Like full-on no-hesitation punching each other in the face. The writing doesn't hide how physical their fights are, but it also doesn't revel in the pain or blood or aftermath of trading punches. So, I don't get it. You want to tell us exactly where these punches land, but it's also like it never happened. Never mind that I thought white women of the suburbs leave each other patronizing and passive-aggressive notes. They make snide remarks. One "forgets" to meet the other for coffee. Shit like that. What are these women doing socking each other in the jaw?

Angela and Bev start their own fight club to try to get their unwelcome aunt to feel so uncomfortable she has to leave the house and abandon the ailing sister she's come to check on. After this particular fight, the aunt packs her bags, calls a cab, and leaves. Angela hugs Bev, and they go on with life like nothing happened. Angela doesn't even need to ice her face. Bev goes on a date.

There is one little nugget in there that gives us some hope that you, the writer, are not completely out of touch with how these sisters might actually behave in the real world: For the longest time Bev stood there staring at Angela, looking like she had plenty on her mind. But then she shrugs her shoulders, tells Angela, "Thank you," and runs off to get ready for her date. And the readers who have made it this far into the book are scratching their heads, wondering if they will have to endure this all a second time from Bev's point of view.

Tab 8: I flagged the first page of the chapter "Pool Party." I clearly remember you being so impressed with the idea of this scorned women sneaking back into her own house to find that her husband has laid out her nightgown on her side of the bed. He sleeps with her nightgown and we are all supposed to be enchanted. I didn't get it back when you originally described it to me, and you said that was because I was too young. As an adult, I think it works even less in the context of the book. But it works for Angela. She is at peace. She drifts off to sleep, spending the whole night in the house where she no longer lives.

The next day Angela becomes a prisoner in this old house of hers, trying not to let the neighbors know she is there and then trying not to let them know she no longer lives there. All the adults from the neighborhood end up in her pool, getting trashed and having a gay old time. One particularly obnoxious character repeatedly snaps plucks her thong bathing suit from between her cheeks. Mostly she is obnoxious because it is so apparent that you wanted us to hate her for being a disgusting bimbo. But I don't really hate her. I hate reading this chapter. I hate that you wrote such a painfully long and ill-conceived chapter.

Tab 9: The last flag is a full-size Post-It. The rest were thin strips I'd cut, but this chapter, "White Trash House," was by far the worst. If Aunt Betty packed her bags and went home on page 360, why am I reading about her again for the first time on page 431. Shoot me. I hate this character. We had plenty of conflict without her, but you're going to make us all read more terribly scripted fights incited by her presence. Meanwhile, we're 60 pages from the end of the entire book and the real problems aren't anywhere near a resolution. You insist on telling this story from two perspectives? Fine. Then at least try to solve some of Angela's problems from the beginning of the book.

Oh my god. I can't even skim this chapter to accurately describe why it is the worst of the worst. But, basically, I have to relive everything that already made me puke earlier in the book. They scream, they fight, they live in some alternate reality. They are completely trashy and don't work to resolve their problems (except to scream and punch each other in the face). Personally, I can't see why Emmett should mend his marriage to Angela or why Mama shouldn't just shrivel up and die from embarrassment. Who would want to know these women?

So, there you go. That's what those Post-It's mean. Soon you'll have your copy back, but it might be another 10 years before you decide to revisit it as a possible money-making venture. By that time I might have located my notes and finished my thesis on why this is the worst novel ever.

All That Violence

Okay, I can't get it out of my head now. I need to write this post about violence that I don't think I ever got around to writing before...

In my previous post, I came to the realization that all this violence is so out of place because these are supposed to be well-to-do white suburban women. They shouldn't be throwing punches. Ever. But that's not really the shocking part. The disturbing part about reading "Bev retaliated, swung at Angela, socked her in the jaw" is how you couldn't write a fight that felt heated, so you resorted to violence. None of the people in any of the fights that take place seem to have any conviction. They are just spewing catchy phrases until someone throws something.

Even though you write the whole story from two perspectives, it's as though you didn't want to look at the screaming matches from each character's point of view. (With the exception of Brandy and Trevor's screaming match. Maybe that's why you use that as your sample? Because it's the only spicy scene where the characters are committed?) In all these fights, we never learn anything and the story doesn't progress. In fact, the sense that we're not going anywhere is exacerbated by the punching and kicking. These people must be so angry (and yet so out of touch with their feelings), so why aren't they DOING something to improve their situations?

I guess, mostly, I'm just disappointed that you took the time to choreograph the fights in your head, playing it over and over in your mind just how the fight would look so you could describe where the punches landed, but you couldn't put yourself emotionally into any the shoes of any of these characters. Did I mention the source material is your own life?

What to Do, What to Do

You know I can't resist trying to help you, but you don't want my honest help. I could put forth my best effort to draft a good synopsis for you, but you will toss it aside and say it's no good. Why? Because you didn't write it. Because you only want me to tell you that what you wrote is the best thing I've ever read and you are a fucking genius. But I can't tell you that.

What I want to tell you is that you need to rewrite this novel. This novel, that novel, the screenplay, all of it. It all needs to be seriously rewritten because no one come up with one draft and have it be perfect. No one. And, as I'm sadly learning, especially not you.

The main problem with you writing a comedy is that you are not funny. In that last chapter I read of Susie Essman's book, I learned two things: 1) I'm not wrong in thinking that the main character of the second worst novel ever lacks the passion we want to feel and the details we want to hear when describing why she wants to be a writer and 2) you're just not innately funny. I think I'm four chapters into Essman's book, and she describes how she started out memorizing comedy albums as a small child. Reading it, I was like, Wow, this is what that stupid paragraph in your novel wishes it were. They are two pages you should read and think about and take to heart when rewriting... Oh. You don't rewrite. Not seriously.

If I could, I would send you the first couple paragraphs of a synopsis—to justify the work I did rereading the second worst novel ever for a third time and to get the ball rolling for you. Then I would explain that this story starts to really blow after page 50. Why? There is so much action for the first 25 pages. It is a good fish-out-of-water story with lots of conflict between the main character, Gretta, and the higher-ups at the corporation where she works. The problems mount and... Gretta quits to become a full time screenwriter. Okay, so now our Man v. Man story has just become a Man v. Himself story. And that's fine and all, I guess, because Gretta is supposed to be on a spiritual journey, but there just isn't a lot of conflict in 300 pages of some write bellyaching that her phone hasn't rung in a month. We don't see her do anything. We're reading her diary entries and all she does is obsess about how this agent or that producer is ignoring her. People she's never even talked to! She says she mails out query letters, but there's never a scene where she's struggling with the wording, a scene where she has to wait in line at the post office, a scene where she scours the writer's market for new agents to approach. She doesn't DO anything for 300 pages. She doesn't even write. I mean, sure, we're reading her diary and after I think 200 pages she mentions that she's decided to start a new script, but we really never see her do any work. She's just bellyaching for 300 pages about petty problems.

Where is the humor? Gretta is trying to harness the power of positive thinking to attract millions of dollars and unparalleled fame into her life. Gretta is based on the most negative person ever. Not Eeyore, but definitely not Pollyanna. When Gretta, who is egotistical and judgmental, says her in-laws are vile, we should get to see what that interaction is really like. If her in-laws are based on your in-laws, then the way the scenes would play out is that the in-laws, who are equal parts amused and concerned, would question the sanity of quitting a well-paying job to sell a screenplay. They would innocently ask, "And you're sure this will work?" And Gretta would start foaming at the mouth, working herself into a tizzy about how this is the greatest screenplay ever and so-and-so is going to kill to be a part of it. And the in-laws would laugh. And Gretta would get upset that no one is taking her seriously and cheering her on. As you write it, we don't see any of the actual interactions. Gretta recounts asking her husband why he told his family anything about her writing. Yawn. There is nothing interesting in that conversation. And we don't believe Gretta that her in-laws are vile. And no one can question why, if she were able to succeed in attracting anything in the world, would she choose to be rich rather than cure cancer or save the environment?

The second worst novel ever should be at least a satire about how idiotic The Secret phenomenon was. But it's not even a humorous account of your life.

I have no idea how to tell you that...

Tooting My Own Horn

"I think it's incredibly unclear in your synopsis that this is the story of woman who really, really wants to be a make millions of dollars as a writer, so she quits her job, burns through her 401k, compares her work to everything already in theaters, irrationally hates her parents and in-laws, hates children, is wildly envious of everyone else with whom she crosses paths, tries to convert everybody she meets into a positive thinker, suddenly decides she wants to have a baby, and sells her screenplay to a big-time director who knows someone who works with her at TGI Fridays."

My posts can be long. If you never read anything on this blog, read the above sentence. For how little thought I put into these posts, I've impressed myself with the accuracy of summarizing the second worst novel ever (and consequently the author's life).

Oh wait. You know what I missed? That our "everyone be happy" lady is super negative.

Turns Out I Was Wrong

So, my synopsis was a terrible synopsis. It was the classic "writer mistakenly attempts to draft the text for the back cover that only a real copy writer handle as opposed to writing the requested synopsis." But at least my piece had heart. I was right about that part. Your synopsis, dear author, lacks emotion. Whoever is reading the unsolicited materials you send will want to feel attached to your characters. If I am reading your synopsis (or your query letter or your... novel) I want to CARE about your characters. I don't care that this is supposedly your first novel. (A statement which by the way makes me judge every word after more harshly.)

Anyway, I only now know for sure that my synopsis was not a synopsis because you emailed me again. (Subject line: MORE SYNOPSIS STUFF)

Hi

I'm still confused.  Do you think I should use the synopsis you wrote instead of using my own new one?  Are you saying my new synopsis isn't good enough yet?  I really need to know.

Today I got a rejection letter for my other novel. This is the only agent that actually asked to read my other novel.  I was very disappointed they said they don't want to represent it.  I had high hopes.

Getting published ain't easy.  Don't let anyone tell you it is.

Tell me what to do,

[Author]

First, gee, after all the success you've had in the past 30 years, I tell everyone I meet, "Being a writer is Eeeeeee-Z!"

Second, omg google "what makes a good synopsis." Don't use quotes. Don't use a question mark. You'll find countless resources. In my three minutes of research, the first site I found referenced a romance writer who then linked to "successful" synopses. Amazing link. I only read half of the first sample and then skipped to the end—but that's how good it was. Too steamy for a quick email session with my infant son two feet away. Go here: charlottedillon.com

Third, enough with the drama. First you're screaming in your subject line and then you're all "Tell me what to do." I'm giving you an opinion (a watered down, sugar-coated opinion) about your synopsis, not instructions for how to administer CPR to someone dying on the kitchen floor.

So now what? Read the advice. Take your time. Do it well. And maybe (seriously) you should rewrite your novel. (Or find a new hobby.)

A Brief Summary or General Survey of Something

The other day you sent me an unsolicited synopsis. Two actually. Feeling very much in the "Ugh, I seriously have to read this" frame of mind that I'm sure most normal people have when they go to work and attack the slush pile, I feel I gave your old synopsis and your new synopsis a fair read.

The old synopsis starts, "In her first novel," just like the back cover of your other "first" novel. Then it went on for like 89,000 words and I wanted to cry. It was so boring. And strange. You outline what happens to the main character without ever really mentioning any secondary characters or subplots. I had a vague and jumbled picture of the action in my head—and I've read this entire manuscript twice. Luckily, you tossed out that version (except that you emailed it to me) and wrote a new synopsis.

NEWEST SYNOPSIS

[Second Worst Novel Ever] portrays a year in the life of Greta Nueby. Greta is a woman who believes in positive thinking. She writes out a list of resolutions for the new year, including her desire to drink less. She also intends to become a successful screenwriter.

Each chapter of the book represents another month in the life of Greta and is told in both long and short snippets. She wants to be rich, lose weight, and make her husband happy. She quits her job after encountering many problems with her managers and follows the advice of her guru, Lydia. Lydia is convinced Greta can become successful if only she will do things like create a treasure map, meditate, do some visual imaging and other assorted tricks.

Greta’s pals, Andrew and Samantha, are supporting characters. They have their own problems. Andrew is a gay man who can’t find love. Samantha is determined to get her boyfriend to propose to her. Their problems reflect Greta’s own lack of success.

Greta manages to obtain a producer who promises to turn her screenplay into a movie. It looks like success is on the way. After a long summer of no good news and many troubling diary entries, the producer dumps Greta. Now Greta is forced to find another producer and she begins to lose faith in positive thinking.

She faces numerous money problems and plays various games with her credit. Her marriage isn’t going so well. She begins to feel like failure is all she is capable of. Eventually she meets a director who wants to buy her script. Her story ends happily, though she knows positive thinking isn’t for everyone.

I didn't like this one much better. (Apparently I found it more exciting. Or at least that's what I say in the email to you.) I found it less boring and something akin to a school assignment. Again, I didn't feel like you really grasped the story—and this is YOUR story. Shouldn't there be more energy? Don't you want me to be salivating, wondering where those first 50 pages are? I should at least be able to tell that this is a comedy, right?

So, I took the liberty of rewriting your synopsis:

[Second Worst Novel Ever] portrays a year in the life of Greta Neuby, a writer who just wants to be happy. Though she’s never been much of a New Age disciple, Greta uses the advice she gleans from her hairdresser and quits her well-paying corporate job to begin a comical journey of following her True Intention.

While her husband is less than thrilled that Greta will now be thinking positive thoughts full-time to "attract" money, Greta couldn’t be happier. At first. As the months go by and the money begins to run low, Greta finds it harder and harder to believe she can become the successful screenwriter she’s always wanted to be.

When Greta can’t find support at home or in Hollywood, she tries to turn her nay-saying best friends, Samantha and Andrew, into believers. Greta is infectious with her tales of mini-successes and wild antics. Soon everyone is buying expensive new cars and taking chances in romance. But how long can it last?

As Greta begins to run out of tricks to pull with her credit to keep her marriage afloat, she also begins to run out of faith. Does the Universe really want her to be a writer?

I was pretty sure you wouldn't be crazy about the "Does the Universe really want her to be a writer" part because Greta is supposed to be you (minus the whole helpful daughter), but that wasn't your problem.

Hi

The ending you wrote doesn't really tell the ending of the story.  From what I understand, it's important to tell the agent what the ending is.  Here is my new ending, with a slight change.

She faces numerous money problems and plays various games with her credit. Her marriage isn’t going so well. She begins to feel like failure is all she is capable of. Eventually she meets a director who wants to buy her script. Her story ends happily, though she knows positive thinking is positively impossible for all but those with childlike dreams.

Tell me what you think...

Oh, no. You don't think "positive thinking is positively impossible" is really witty, do you? And what are you trying to say about your main character? (Do you have "childlike dreams"?) Who cares if the ending is disclosed—none of what you wrote accurately explains this novel. I think it's incredibly unclear in your synopsis that this is the story of woman who really, really wants to be a make millions of dollars as a writer, so she quits her job, burns through her 401k, compares her work to everything already in theaters, irrationally hates her parents and in-laws, hates children, is wildly envious of everyone else with whom she crosses paths, tries to convert everybody she meets into a positive thinker, suddenly decides she wants to have a baby, and sells her screenplay to a big-time director who knows someone who works with her at TGI Fridays.

You still don't realize I've read this manuscript twice, do you. Yeah, twice. When you first started writing this book, my best friend said there was no way you could do it. And it was true. But the first time I read your "memoir," I was too busy trying to match up reality with your account of reality. The second time, not only was it more obvious to me where you had pulled punches or completely missed your mark, but it was also plain that my friend was right: You can't see what's funny about the whole story. Greta is unlikable and nasty, narcissistic and defensive. While we see that she is an unreliable narrator, you don't. The joke suffers. The most miserable woman in the world is trying to be a ray of positive light. She's going to harness the power of spiritual enlightenment to get rich quick.

It pains me that you are giving this to your writers' group to edit. Seriously? You really want to sell this right now, but you're going to hand it out five pages at a time to a bunch of people who have a common hobby? Maybe I'm all wrong, but these are the same people who have you working on a synopsis. And your synopsis sucks. I guess I should be happy you're going to have anyone at all read it before you give up and send it press on Lulu.