agent

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Have you guys read Shit My Dad Says? It all started with this guy who moved home to his parents, and started twittering quotes from his dad. A month later, he was offered a book deal. The book was published in May and went to #1 on the NYT non-fiction hardcover list. CBS has a “Sh*t My Dad Says” sitcom starring William Shatner in its fall line-up. Here’s an example of what he tweets:

Stop trying so hard. He doesn’t like you. Jesus, don’t kiss an ass if it’s in the process of shitting on you.

Oh, I may have forgotten to mention his dad can be a bit grouchy and crass at times. But anyway, let’s get to my point (and I do have one, I promise). One of my girlfriends told me I need to start a website with the crack-up comments my family makes. It’s true that we are a band of pessimists, but now that I’ve stepped to the sunny side of the street (mostly), I can see the humor in some people finding the black cloud to every silver lining. For example, Little G started pre-K the other day and I sent a picture of her to nearly everyone in the Southeast. I received several comments, mostly in the “adorable” and “she looks just like you” categories. But the one I liked most was this:

That is a really good picture of G. Thanks for sending. Yes, a little sad. Her carefree life is behind her. Now comes 20 years of school which she will hate only to learn later that is was the best of times.

I can hear the soundtrack in my head womp womp WOOOOOOOMP.
Isn’t that great? I’ve got million of ‘em. Am I sitting on a gold mine or what? What should I call my best seller-to-be? Must get agent…

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Why, oh why, why, why? Why is it so freakin’ hard to be a writer? I’ve only gotten a few rejection letters from literary agents, but already I’m thinking of going the self-publishing route. I don’t have a healthy enough self-esteem to deal with all the rejection. But then of course I’d have to promote the book by myself, and it feels kind of sales-ish to me. Not that sales is a bad job, but I don’t like selling myself. (Did I tell you I have self esteem issues?)
Anyway, I’ve been wallowing around in self pity these last few days. At least today I’m wallowing in L.A., where I am surrounded by pretty people everywhere I go. It makes me feel ugly, but I doubt they made me feel ugly on purpose. I’m sure they’re all very nice people. As am I, unless I’m talking to myself. In that case I can be real bitch.

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Seriously, does anybody know who you have to sleep with to get a literary agent? Or possibly might you know someone who knows someone who maybe was a sorority sister’s gardener’s aunt’s agent? If so, please help a sister out and tell them about my site. I am a really nice, deserving person. You would like me if you met me, I promise.

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