The Amazing Let Down

THE AMAZING RACE: Well, the Season 17 finale was last night. I was happy for the winning team (though I’ve been forbidden to mention their names because Kat taped the show and hasn’t watched yet.)

As a teaser for next season, they announced that it would be called: The Amazing Race: UNFINISHED BUSINESS

Dun, dun, dun!

Basically, season 18 will be returning team mates - you know the ones - previous contestants who argued the whole time or regularly broke the rules, whined their way through the race, couldn’t drive a stick shift, forgot their travel documents, were prone to crying jags. Yes, the entertaining people. So even though Kat and I won’t be accompanying our ‘dream teams’ -

- a pair of nuns, two gay guys who argue like an old married couple, an Italian grandmother/granddaughter team who have to be ‘bleeped’ every fifteen minutes because they have naughty mouths, a magician and his dimwitted apprentice, a sheep farmer and his wife, brothers who own & operate a sex toy manufacturing business in New Jersey, an old nudist couple who have trouble keeping their clothes on, a biker couple, and a pair of karaoke rappers - it should still be the most amusing Amazing Race yet.

The producers must have seen my pleas for more entertaining cast members on their web boards. Yeah, that’s probably what happened.

As you all know, we were preparing our submission package for next season - this newest announcement kind of puts the kibosh on our plans, but it’s just as well because we could both stand to lose a pound or twenty before we’re chosen as contestants.

And we will be chosen as contestants, mark my words. Any producer in their right mind - after reading our applications - wouldn’t be able to resist a menopausal woman and her erratic sidekick with a penchant for discussing her hemorrhoids (which we made much hay of in our video presentation, as well as the combined size of our mammary glands.)

Boobs + running = RATINGS, baby!

Below are some of the questions and my answers from the application. I've decided to share them because by the time a year rolls around and we're ready to submit for Season 19, I could be dead...or have figured out even better answers - in which case, why waste the clever bon mots, right?

You tell me: doesn’t this sound like a contestant you want to see fumble their way through a leg or two of the race before being carted off on a stretcher following a mid-air heart attack after being forced to bungee jump from the Eiffel Tower?



What is your current occupation? Please describe in 2 words.

Homemaker, writer

In two sentences, please describe what you do.

Mine the house for shit-pebbles hidden behind furniture by my toilet-challenged nine year old autistic son while fielding obsessively compulsive questions from my thirteen year old (also autistic) son. Then, I write about it.

How will these skills help you to win the Race?

I am a multi-tasker; I have dealt with enough bodily fluids that I don’t get queasy easily, and I have a good handle on my gag reflex and temper, respectively.

How long have you and your teammate known each other?

Three years

How did you meet?

Oh, we’ve never met in person. We’ve written a book together, though. We belong to the same writer’s workshop on the Internet. Tell me, how cool would our first meeting be if on THE AMAZING RACE? I see HUGE ratings. Huge like my boobs that would bounce up and down if I was required to run.

What do you hope to gain from participating in The Amazing Race with your partner (besides winning)?

Getting out of the house. I have two autistic kids, I don’t get out much.

What communication issues do you have with your partner that you would want to address while on the Race?

Kat (like my kids) has her own toileting issues. Apparently I’d be required to be at least 50 feet from the bathroom door at any time she needed to pee and 50 miles away should the need to evacuate arise. I would address this by regularly tormenting her in this regard, since the idea of going to the bathroom anywhere out of her comfort zone (the bathroom at her house) is most certainly a mental health issue for her.

What is the biggest disappointment you have experienced from your teammate?

She has steadfastly refused to videotape herself belly dancing so I can post it on YouTube. We’re working through it.

How did you resolve it?

I Photoshopped her head onto the body of an overweight Belly Dancer and sent it, via-email, to sixty of our closest friends - and all of her co-workers. Because, that's how we roll, people.

What famous person reminds you of yourself?

Bette Davis

What famous person reminds you of your teammate?

Truman Capote

What is your biggest pet peeve about your partner?

The above mentioned toileting issues and her inability to discuss said issues. I’ve suggested therapy. She’s suggested I mind my fu*%^ng business.

What time(s) together with your teammate are/have been the most memorable? Why?

We’re both fantastic writers, so working on our novel WAITING FOR KARL ROVE was pretty damned cool. (SHAMLESS PLUG: Soon to be e-published on Amazon.com for Kindle.)

What is the worst experience you have had with your teammate? Why?

I will direct your attention to what I refer to as The Snuggie® Incident. I purchased one and Kat said that spoke volumes about who I was, as a person, teasing me about it relentlessly and with the same regularity as an octogenarian whose first meal of every day consists of bran cereal and prune juice.

How are you and your teammate most alike?

We have the same sense of humor as well as a great love of coffee, chocolate and cigarettes.

How are you and your teammate most different?

She is menopausal while all my hormones are all still working effectively.

How could the Race change the current state of your relationship?

We’d actually meet in person for the first time - which could possibly mean the slow disintegration of our relationship…but anything for ratings, right? Because of her malady, you could look forward to tension between us, particularly if we were the first team to be eliminated because of our inability to work together effectively due to her hot flashes, mood swings and regular flatulence issues.

What is your opinion of foreigners?

Foreigners are people too. I’m very foreigner friendly. In fact, I would probably enjoy foreigners more than most of my immediate family.

What was the last vacation that you took?

Does my overnight stay at the hospital giving birth to my second child count as a vacation? If not, it’s been over 12 years and I only have a slight memory of a zoo in Miami and sand chafing my thighs.

Are there any locations in the world to which you absolutely will not travel? If so, identify where and explain why.

I’d rather not spend the night at Karl Rove’s house, though I would if it was one of the stops on THE AMAZING RACE itinerary. I’d do it, but I wouldn’t like it.

Have you ever traveled outside of the U.S.? If so, to where?

Is Mexico considered outside the US? I took a cruise there once in high school, but can only remember half of it due to the Singapore Slings. (which was the last time I drank alcohol, BTW)

Do you speak or read any foreign languages? If so, which one(s)?

My husband is Puerto Rican, so I speak a little Spanish, but only the naughty words. Basically, enough to get me beat up or arrested.

What country and place would you most like to visit and why?

Beggars can’t be choosers, but I’ve always wanted to see Yemen. Because I like the way it sounds when you say it: Yemen….Yemen…

Tales of a First Grade Drama King

Today’s offering: Five minutes of film shot by Jaxson Lopez. (*compiled and edited by Mommy)

Watch carefully and at times you’ll find the little director wanna-be has purpose, intent and motive written all over his face.

My job: I’m just the gal who fishes cameras out of the toilet and waits for the next shoe to drop, because one always does—and they’re never Prada or Manolo Blahnik, they’re Ked’s, Crocs, and Dollar Store flip-flops.

Agent/Writer Snark Duel

Over the span of a year, in an effort to lure a literary agent into representing me, I have recieved my share of rejection letters. In fact, I don't have a computer chair. I am, at this very moment, sitting on a stack of rejection letters. I've also got a 'rejection ottoman' for my feet and my 'rejection desk' is almost complete.

Rejections aren't fun, but as writers we simply must not engage in bitter responses to rejections we feel are unfair. We must suck it up and stifle the urge to call the person on the other end of the e-mail an ass-hat.

Rather than tell them what an idiot they are for not liking your work, perhaps something like this might be in order: "Thank you for all of the 'tough love', which has now sent me forth into the querying world armed with a better knowledge of what a proposal is. I will now and forever be grateful that you pistol-whipped me into submission.'

Not everyone is going to like your work. No biggie. Take what you can learn from the situation and move on.

My partner in crime, soul-sister and person I plan on taking over the world with, Kat Nove, had an inspired idea after reading a particularly witty response I sent in response to a rejection letter.

So, without further ado, here is the High Priestess of Hilarity, Kat Nove—playing herself—while I have the distinct privilege of playing Hortensia P. Schlemecker, agent extraordinaire.
**************************************************************************

Subject:　 Query
Date: May 6, 2010
To: query@schlemeckerliterary.com
From: kfisher55@yahoo.com

Dear Agent,

I’ve read everything your client has written and I’m a huge fan, weighing in at approximately 465 pounds. It occurred to me that if you enjoy representing an author who writes in that particular genre, I’m your man, or I could be if you’ll float me a loan for a sex change operation.

Attached is a list of my published work in obscure zines, along with the first three chapters of a book of observational satire, which I promise to finish the moment I send this email to you.

Please, please, please, please consider representing me, because if you don’t, the next thing I write will be a thinly disguised personal ad in Chubby Chasers Magazine. SWFFBG (single white female fat butt guaranteed) Will Put Out for Thick-Sliced Bacon.

Thank you for your consideration.

Yours in desperation,
Kat Nove
katnovian.com
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Subject:　 re: Query
Date: May 10, 2010
To: kfisher55@yahoo.com
From: Hortensia@schlemeckerliterary.com

Dear Ms. Nove,

First off, I have quite a few clients, so it would have behooved you to point out which one of them you were referring to. Second, it’s always best to at least make your query appear as if it’s not being sent to fifteen-hundred other ‘Dear Agents’. (Hint, hint—I have a name. Use it.)

Did you even check out the agency website? Oh, how I wish noob (agent-speak for newbie-slash-boob) writers would follow submission guidelines. It certainly would have made this self-flagellating bit of prose easier to wade through.　

What exactly is your book about? Your query gives absolutely no indication. You appear to have a fun sense of humor, but I have no clue as to the message you’re trying to impart. Is this merely a ‘look at me’ book? I can’t even tell whether it’s fiction or non-fiction. Perhaps this was your lame attempt at writing in the ‘voice’ of your protagonist. God, I can only hope that is not the case, (another noob mistake) but the query is just psychotic enough that it could very well have been your intent, however misguided.

If you’d like to try this again, I’m willing to play along, but please keep in mind that I’ll only humor you one last time. I recommend that you look at our blog and click on the link that discusses a real proposal/query (depending on whether your submission is non-fiction or fiction). And also peruse our submission guidelines.

Hortensia P. Schlemecker
Schlemecker Literary Agency
1-800-555-6969
www.Schlemeckerliterary.com
Hortensia@schlemeckerliterary.com
　
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Subject:　 re: Query
Date: May 10, 2010
To: Hortensia@schlemeckerliterary.com
From: kfisher55@yahoo.com

Dear Hortensia:

You don’t mind if I call you Tense, do you?

Thank you for pointing out the link to submission guidelines. My work station forces me to sit back in a comfortable chair with my feet on a stool and the keyboard and one of five cats in my lap. Therefore, my bifocals often prevent me from observing links, typos, misspelled words and other assorted details I always assumed fell under the job description of copy editor.

Now that I’ve leaned over with my nose to the monitor and read your submission guidelines, in the spirit of mutually beneficial camaraderie, let’s begin again, shall we?

My book of observational satire, If I Can’t Wave Like a Princess, I Must be a Loser,features essays which had your client, Cecily Riverdance calling me “the whole demented package.”

From the Poor Mojo’s Almanac(k) work-related rant contest winner Crap World - to my contention that government-mandated vasectomies are necessary in For the Sake of Humanity, Step Away from That Sperm - each essay illustrates that nothing is immune from my sarcasm. Not world leaders - Ruling the World by Playing Drunken Volleyball; not Scripp’s National Spelling Bee winners lacking basic social skills – Switching Teams; and not even man’s best friend – The Difference Between Cats and Dogs.

Would you like to read a few sample essays? If so, Men You Better Pause should be a good starting point as it lists how 24 of the 27 symptoms of menopause have personally affected me. You might find they’ve affected you in other ways.

Thank you for your time and consideration.

Sincerely,
Kat Nove
katnovian.com

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Subject:　 THE WORST PROPOSAL ON THE FACE OF THE EARTH
Date: May 28, 2010
To: kfisher55@yahoo.com
From: Hortensia@schlemeckerliterary.com

Ms. Nove,

*sigh*

I should have guessed it was Riverdance. She’s a half-bottle of Stoli away from a twelve-step program. But her books sell, so who am I to judge?

Let me explain something to you as if you were a fifth-grader. I don’t care how many obscure magazines, e-zines or blogs you’ve had the privilege of being published by/on (notice the italics— you’re playing fast and loose with what the word published really means). The same goes for contests.　From the ABNA's to Faulkner's, blah, blah, blah, it’s all white noise unless the award’s got Guggenheim in the title— or Oprah, herself, is thrusting it into your sweaty hands.　

There's a reason we agents are as irritable as Dick Cheney’s bowel after a bucket of greasy chicken. It is because we constantly see very talented writers passed over for those who have written the newest vampire tome about angst ridden teens, not to mention former Vice-Presidential candidates from Alaska who have little to say but a huge platform from which to spew it. When you’ve got Young Republicans and the entire NRA creaming in their skivvies for a signed copy of your latest book, then you can write what you want.

It’s truly a sad state of affairs, but it is what it is. And here’s what it is: Beelzebub is driving the gravy train we call big publishing at the moment. Rather than stoking the engine room with coal, he’s tossing in shelter puppies and the virginity of pre-pubescent girls, lighting a bonfire sans intégrité under all our asses. It’s just easier to give someone like Heidi Montag, or that disingenuous James Frey a publishing contract than take a risk on frou-frou literary ventures or works of actual merit.

Sure, writers are free to submit to teensy-weensy independent and university presses if they wish to have their three hundred page masterpiece bound and edited so they can pass it out at Christmas. Perhaps impressing Uncle Horace and cousin Jezebel is important to you, but nobody’s making any money on that deal. And I’m not in this ménage a mal for the giggles.　

So, tell me how your work is commercially viable. Do you know what a proposal is? It’s that little thing you should have sent to me in the first place, covering the information any agent needs to know when you are proposing a work of non-fiction. It’s the document that I would be required to pass around—no doubt with considerable re-structuring on my end—to publishers. I’m not sure why, but you writers can’t seem to put a proposal together to save your literary arses.

Have you ever seen Glengarry Glen Ross? Right now you’re Shelley Levene. I need you to be Ricky Roma, get it? Channel a bit of that used-car-salesman vibe and sell, sell, Sell! yourself to me.

My cat died yesterday, and because I’m feeling all mushy and charitable, here’s what I’m going to do—but, make no mistake, my patience is wearing thin—below, find the guidelines for a real proposal.　

　
COVER- Title and subtitle; genre, word count, author’s name, address, phone, fax, email

CONCEPT STATEMENT- Briefly state your target audience, why they need this book, why your book is unique or timely, and what it offers that other books don’t.

OVERVIEW- How you came to write the book. This is the ‘meat’. Work in your ‘voice’ because this is the most important part of your proposal.
PURPOSE OF THE BOOK - How will it benefit readers?

THE AUDIENCE- Here’s a biggie—who will buy your book? Why do they even want or need it? Providing statistics is usually a good idea.

COMPETITIVE BOOKS- Here are your title comps. What else exists out there? Where is it shelved? How is your book new, better and different?

MARKETING OF THE BOOK- How would you market your book? Bookstores, book clubs, Internet, clubs—anything outside a bookstore.

AUTHOR’S PROMOTIONAL CONTRIBUTION - Tell me everything you’re prepared to do to make your book a success. Here’s where you play my bitch.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR- Background, experience, and why you are the best person to write the book.

THREE SAMPLE CHAPTERS


Can you see how what you sent me might look like a big ole’ pile of arbitrary absurdity? Are you trying to say you’re the next Eggers or Sedaris? If you are, you better be able to tell me you’re better… and why.　 　

How hard is that, really? Jesus I feel like you writers need to be coddled these days, and while I’m not completely unwilling to stroke whatever it is you need stroked, you’re going to need to tell me why I should be jerking you off. What do you have to offer me in return?

Christ, I need a margarita. Your next e-mail better blow me away, otherwise you’ll be relegated to the hulking abyss that is my spam box. I’ve given you way more of my time than anyone deserves.

*RIP Kitty-Kins*

Hortensia P. Schlemecker
Schlemecker Literary Agency
1-800-555-6969
www.Schlemeckerliterary.com
Hortensia@schlemeckerliterary.com

PS- The only positive thing I have to say about our communications back and forth, so far, is that you haven’t written another book about a single Mom surviving divorce against all odds, or an alcoholic/drug-addicted thirty-something that has ‘daddy issues’. If I have to wade through any more of these self-pity-fests, I might be forced to gouge out my eyes with a tuning fork.

PSS- Did you just accuse me of being menopausal?
　
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Subject:　 re: THE WORST PROPOSAL ON THE FACE OF THE EARTH
Date: May 29, 2010
To: Hortensia@schlemeckerliterary.com
From: kfisher55@yahoo.com

Dear Tense Hor,

I’m sorry if you got the impression I accused you of being menopausal – that was not my intent. Though I will mention that if you chase a Midol with one of those many margaritas you seem so fond of, the effect is quite pleasing.

Your suggestions have been so helpful to me I feel the urge to return the favor. I’ve found that instead of using a tuning fork to gouge your eye out, you might consider placing canned tuna on your eyelids and lying still on the floor. Then your cat can do the job for you. Oops! I forgot your cat died. My condolences. Whatever method you use, I bet your eye patch will give you that certain sex appeal which attracts both ophthalmologists and pirates, but won’t exclude women in case you are a lesbian.

Below you will find my book proposal, which I completed weeks ago, I just delayed sending it in favor of playing video poker.

If I Can’t Wave Like a Princess I Must Be a Loser
Humor
60,000 words
Kat Nove
666 Underworld Drive
Blahburg, TX 78028
(210) 555-1974
kfisher55@yahoo.com

The target audience for my book includes two groups of diverse readers – those who are obsessed with popular culture and those who are not. This collection of satiric essays contains something for everyone with a sense of humor. From global events to my extremely weird live-in boyfriend, readers might recognize themselves on the pages. And who doesn’t like reading about themselves, other than indicted alleged pedophiles?

I decided to compile my essays into one book due to encouragement and constant nagging from members on the writers’ workshop I joined for the sole purpose of having my work edited for only $39.95 a year. “BLOG THIS!” they all screamed in unnecessary uppercase, so I did. Now my website http://katnovian.com/ is attracting over 2,000 hits a day, only 1,998 of them Russian porn bots.

There is a need for this book, in that the market is inundated with cookie-cutter books in every genre. Self-help books all point out that diet and exercise will help with weight loss/thinking positive causes good things to happen/and co-dependence is bad. Christian fiction demonstrates how Amish women can churn butter with a particular hand motion to attract their bearded suitors. Teen fiction demands high school girls turn their backs on man’s deep-seated moral imperative that necrophilia is to be avoided and therefore spend 250 pages lusting after cute and pasty vampires. Mysteries these days contain way too many crime solving cats, dogs, pastry chefs, and quilters.

The reading public needs a well-written book by an author who is not a drug addict, alcoholic, or slut—and whose self-deprecating humor and comic timing guarantees her likeability. If I Can’t Wave Like a Princess, I Must Be a Loser is that book.

Once I’m a guest on Oprah everyone will buy my book even though they won’t know why they want it or need it. A conservative estimate of sales is 23,000,000 – the number of viewers who watch Oprah each week.

This book will be compared favorably with Jane Connick Black’s Raw Potato Duchess series, Lottie Navarro’s Dorky Girl phenomenon, and Cecily Riverdance’s charming Southern essays, which almost make me want to visit the deep South. Almost. While these books are hilarious and have earned their well-deserved success, mine is edgier with not only more laugh-out-loud lines per page, but more curse words.

My marketing plan is in place. Not only will social networking be involved, but as a book manager in a nationwide chain, I can guarantee orders in quantity and product placement due to the fact I have documentation of hours worked off the clock to complete required assignments. In the store I manage, associates will be under strict orders to push my book or they’ll lose their jobs.

Oprah is a given, but I also have newspaper reporters and radio personalities angling for exclusive interviews once the book is published. I intend to promise all of them exclusivity.

My quick wit and superficial knowledge of nearly everything makes me the perfect candidate for a worldwide book tour starting in New York, then on to London, Paris, Rome and anywhere else airborne volcano ash isn’t involved. I love the ocean and am immune to seasickness so a book tour cruise might be in order. If I were one of the Seven Dwarfs, Bashful is the last one I’d be. I’d be Brassy, the one with balls larger than his diminutive head who can stand up before a crowd and make them roar with laughter and clamor for the chance to spend $25.99 plus tax.

I’m prepared to engage in speaking engagements, as well as get engaged to be married to anyone you choose as my lifelong mate. I’ll wear a blood diamond engagement ring on my finger or through my nose. I’ll file for a very public and nasty divorce as soon as book sales begin to slump. I’ll bring my own table, tablecloth, chairs, clever decorations, bottle of water and catheter to book signings.

Within six month’s of signing a contract I will deliver you a completed manuscript, hopefully by email as my printer is out of toner.

I have several books in the works which are part of the Loser series. If I Can’t Wave Like a Politician’s Wife I Must Not Be a Loser; If I Can’t Do the Wave at a Dallas Cowboys Game I Must Be a Football Loser and If I Can’t Wave Like a Trained Seal at Seaworld, Shamu Bit My Flipper Off Which Makes Me a Loser.

I have attached the first three chapters of my book. Thanks for your time and consideration.

Sincerely,
Kat Nove
katnovian.com
**********************************************************************
Subject:　 Midol & Margaritas
Date: June 5, 2010
To: kfisher55@yahoo.com
From: Hortensia@schlemeckerliterary.com

Kat,

(May I call you Kat?)

Strummin’ my pain with your fingers…

You’re quite the wing-nut, aren’t you? How do I get myself into these things? If the first three chapters of your book are any indication, you’ve got yourself an agent. I like your spunk, your snark, your joie de vivre, your willingness to pimp yourself out en masse.

BUT—and there’s always a but—I’ll need to see the complete manuscript. Forward it immediately and you’ll have my final answer by next week, barring any unforeseen complications like more feline deaths or terrorist attacks.

Kat, I feel like I know you, already. And if I’m accurately reading between the lines, you and I might just make a great team.

(Hint, hint—Did you hear Melissa and Tammy broke up?)

Hortensia P. Schlemecker
Schlemecker Literary Agency
1-800-555-6969
www.Schlemeckerliterary.com
Hortensia@schlemeckerliterary.com

**********************************************************************
Subject:　 re: Midol & Margaritas
Date: June 5, 2010
To: Hortensia@schlemeckerliterary.com
From: kfisher55@yahoo.com

Dear Hor,

Words can't express how grateful I am (but perhaps a singing telegram?) at the prospect of signing with your successful and reputable agency. I know you and I will accomplish great things together in the publishing world. In the real world, my boyfriend does cook every meal and clean the litter box, so for the time being he's a keeper. If you're fond of fatty meat-based meals, we'll have you over for dinner some night.

Attached is the completed manuscript.

Thanks again for your confidence that we'll be a good fit.

Sincerely,
Kat Nove
katnovian.com

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Subject:　 Ridin’ the Oprah Train!!!!!!!!
Date: September 12, 2011
To: kfisher55@yahoo.com
From: Hortensia@schlemeckerliterary.com

Kat,

You are not going to believe the e-mail that just popped into my inbox!
　
~
　
Subject: The Oprah Winfrey Show
Date: 9-12-11
To:　 Hortensia@schlemeckerliterary.com
From: producer@oprahwinfrey.com

Ms. Schlemecker,

Hello! My name is Lydia Martin and I am writing on behalf of Ms. Winfrey. We are putting together a line-up for sweeps week next month and Oprah would love to have your client, Kat Nove, on our program the second week in November. The theme of the show will be ‘Breakout Writers & Entertainers’.

Boy, 2011 was her year, huh? I bet it seems like only yesterday that you signed her as a client!

I hear congratulations are in order, by the way! A little birdie nesting on the industry grapevine tells us Imagine Entertainment is producing If I Can’t Wave Like a Princess I Must Be a Loser, and Sandra Bullock is attached to play Ms. Nove! But, what a boon to get Jeni Decker as the director! Her imdb.com Star Rating is up 247% this week and rottentomatos.com shows her at 98% on the Tomatometer!

Anyway, If you could get back with us as soon as possible, and Ms. Nove is amenable, we could begin the pre-publicity process.

We’ll look forward to your prompt reply,

Lydia Martin
Producer, The Oprah Winfrey Show
Harpo Productions
　~
　
Kat, I’m heading over to Travelocity to book a vacation for January! I bet Figi is nice this time of year…　

God do I love owning 15% of your snarky ass!

Hortensia P. Schlemecker
Schlemecker Literary Agency
1-800-555-6969
www.Schlemeckerliterary.com
Hortensia@schlemeckerliterary.com
　
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Subject:　 re: Ridin’ the Oprah Train!!!!!!!!
Date: September 12, 2011
To: Hortensia@schlemeckerliterary.com
From: kfisher55@yahoo.com

Hor,

Hey, that's pretty cool. Did I ever mention to you that I've never watched a single episode of Oprah? I bet when I tell her that, she'll think it's pretty funny, huh?

Do you think it's okay to wear my baggy faded jeans, the ones with those holes caused by my fat thighs rubbing together? Oh! And my plaid sneakers? I know they're kinda beat up, but they're so damn comfortable.
Can't wait to see you in Chicago!

Kat
katnovian.com
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Subject:　 re: re: Ridin’ the Oprah Train!!!!!!!!
Date: September 12, 2011
To: kfisher55@yahoo.com
From: Hortensia@schlemeckerliterary.com

　
You're killing me, Nove.
　
************************************************************************
　
Subject:　 re: re: re:　 Ridin’ the Oprah Train!!!!!!!!
Date: September 12, 2011
To: Hortensia@schlemeckerliterary.com
From: kfisher55@yahoo.com


I know.
　
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NOTE: Both Kat Nove and Jeni Decker are currently seeking representation.

Lemons, Lemonade and Shit Pebbles

This morning, Jaxson did something that left me gobsmacked. If you read the previous posting, you know that the little autistic-ragamuffin recently went through a poop-tossing phase. (1)

I feel it important to illustrate another aspect of his recent ‘savant-ness’, so as to ensure my readers understand that there are brilliant spots of clarity and overall extraordinary bliss-ments (blissful moments) that also happen on a daily basis.

It’s Saturday, quite windy and nippy (nipply) outside, so we’re all hanging out in the living room doing our own things. I’m busy writing something with my brilliant soul-sister slash side-kick , Kat Nove, so my ass is planted in front of the computer. I assume her ass is similarly planted, as we speak. (I don't know for sure because she lives in Texas, poor thing, and I'm in Michagan. The Gods wisely decided to plop us millions of miles away from one another, lest we get up to general trouble-making and decide to take over the world.)

But, I digress...

Jaxson grabbed a black Sharpie® (2) and sat down next to me with a spiral notebook. I didn’t pay much attention to what he was writing, but when he trundled off to his room to play video games, I bent over to retrieve his scrawled pages.

…well, suffice it to say, I had a moment.

Below is EXACTLY what’s on the two pages he filled with cute second-grade boy penmanship:

Jaxson
Mom
The boy
kicks girl
wins
boy stands
Kicks

Obama
Biden
www.barackobama.com
A boy
Stands
Jaxson
Mom
Mo & the g

Okay, let’s stop for a minute and take a deep, cleansing breath before we continue. (3)

WTF?!?!?!?!?!

Is it just me or are there some actual phrases that make sense? And what is the kid trying to tell me with all of the Obama/Biden ACTUAL WEBSITE address information? (4)

It only takes about three seconds for me to start putting the pieces together. There’s no way he’s just free-associating thoughts and writing them down. He’s eight years old. He can’t even know who Barak Obama is!

I look around the room and it all starts to come together. His pages from school are neatly lined up on the table; activities where he’d been asked to fill in blanks and write phrases next to pictures. For instance:

The boy stands.
The girl kicks.

Okay, so mystery number one, solved. He’s copying things from the pages. Still, the handwriting looks good!

As I continue to scour the living room, my eyes light upon the Obama/Biden sign I’ve kept prominently displayed on my wall. (5)

So, like Kevin Spacey in The Usual Suspects, the kid has culled tidbits from his immediate vicinity to tell his story. And what is his story? I think it’s this:

“Look Ma, I can write!”

Well, good for him! So he’s not a savant and won’t be counting toothpicks at a glance like Dustin Hoffman in Rain Man. So what? Who needs a toothpick-counting kid? My kid is writing PHRASES! He’s looking at a picture and putting actual words together, correctly spelled, to form coherent thoughts! Hot damn, life is a mini-miracle!

The moral of today’s story is this: When life hands you lemons(or shit pebbles), you CAN make lemonade (???)! (6)

I’m going to color my hair now. It feels like a 'Hot-Tamale-Red' kinda’ month! Yes, people—I’m feelin’ myself today!

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FOOTNOTES:

1- For my concerned readers, I will happily note the phase seems to have momentarily subsided—along with my suicidal thoughts!

2- It’s possible that later I might find the alphabet scrawled all over the bathroom walls in his handwriting and it will permanently and indelibly be part of the general ambiance in said bathroom. That, coupled with the 6 Renuzit Air Freshners®, and the regular stench of ca-ca ensures I will now and forever be considered a sad commentary in the manner of “You know you’re a white-trash hot mess when…”

3- By the way, his handwriting has dramatically improved. It’s legible, and even sits on the college ruled lines quite nicely, albeit his letters are two lines high. But it looks damned good!

4- He’s a frigging genius, that’s what he’s telling me!!

5- Yes, the website is, in fact, written on the bottom of the red-white-and-blue sign that once proudly sat outside my house in order to torment my redneck McCain/Palin loving neighbors. It was torn down three times, and every time I put it back up. Now, it will forever be part of my living room décor.

6- I don’t know where I’m going with this little analogy, but you get the general drift!