Last night, I fired six queries for my new project off into the ether. I started with ten agents, but a full 40% of them were: a) not accepting queries, b) not accepting queries from unpublished authors, c) not accepting unsolicited queries, or d) not agents anymore. No rejections yet!!! (OK, no responses at all yet.) Thanks to those of you who responded to my last post - it really helped light a fire under me. More queries may follow through the end of the month. Then we'll see.
So if you're sitting around this weekend with nothing to do and would like to write the next best-seller, I've got an idea for you.
The book will be called Justice for Caitlyn. In it, the self-righteous ire of an entire nation reanimates the bones of a murdered toddler, which rises from its grave and - after obtaining an iPhone - breaks into jail and exacts bloody and brutal revenge on its attractive but disturbed mother, whose name is, um, Cathryn, while live-tweeting the whole thing. The entire nation watches as Cathryn is dragged away by demons to suffer eternal torment. Even after Cathryn's demise, the toddler continues to attract the attention of everyone it meets, so much so that they stop caring about their own kids and only worry about the dead toddler.
The book ends with the reanimated toddler testifying before the state legislature (also live tweeting the hearing, and posting Facebook status updates involving lots of indignation and crude ASCII art) about the utility of a new law against letting your kids out of your sight ever until they're 21...before reascending to heaven amidst hymns, angels, and a shadowy vision of a professional wrestler body-slamming Jesus.
Hinted but not fully revealed is that after Caitlyn reascends to heaven everyone will realize they have to start paying attention to their own kids again - indeed, they are now legally mandated to do so. And boy, will that piss them off.
I offered to set my wife up with unlimited Diet Mountain Dew, Cheetos, and red velvet cake from a nearby bakery over the next three days with the expectation that she'd show me a draft Monday or Tuesday, but she wasn't interested.
For any of you who would like to execute this brilliant idea, however...a small cut of the proceeds, or at least dedicating the book to the good old Lt. is all I ask in return. Just remember, you have about a week to write it, query it, and sell it before the real Cathy scoops you.