Dealership Woes

Posted by PROSE OF MINE

            For those of you who know me well, you know I don’t have a lot of spare time in my life at the moment. For example: I don’t watch TV, go to the movies, indulge in spa days with the girls, eat sitting down (although, judging by my stagnant waistline, I consume plenty on my feet), exercise, clean house, sleep, and rarely do I find time to shave. No, there is little normalcy in my life at this juncture. Work, family, busy children, 15 hours of college, and the daunting task of finishing my novel take up the majority of my time. So, when the car dealership called me at work and asked what I thought about trading my car in for one that was brand new for the same monthly payment with no money down, the thinking side of my brain (the side I rarely pay heed to) said, “If it sound too good to be true, it probably is.”
            However, my mouth said, “Are you sure?”
            “Of course,” said Car Dealer.
            “Look, I’m very busy and have a lot of homework tonight,” Mouth said. “If I drive all the way out there and this isn’t the case, I am going to be very, very upset.”
            “Ha ... ha ... ha,” cackled Car Dealer. “I promise. No strings attached.”
            “That is the laugh of a liar,” Thinking Side said. “You’re going to drive all the way out there, drink one of their free fattening cokes, stand around in your pointy-toed heels for an hour more than they promised, and turn into the Hulk shortly after they offer you the deal of the century on a new car—150.00 more a month than you are currently paying.”
            This area of text has been deleted for the protection of the reader. But, may I just say, I hate the thinking side of my brain, and besides that, it was wrong. I didn’t drink the coke.
            The following morning, I received a call from the dealership.
            “On behalf of the whole Acura family, I would just like to apologize for this terrible misunderstanding,” said the Red-Devil Car Dealer.
            “What misunderstanding?” said Thinking Side to Red-Devil Car Dealer. “There was no misunderstanding. I told her it was a joke from the beginning. She just wouldn’t listen to reason.”
            “Nothing like this has ever happened before,” continued Red-Devil Car Dealer. “The sale representative you spoke to has been sternly dealt with. I can assure you that this will not happen again.”
            “Well, I can most certainly assure you it won’t happen to me again,” I said. “I know this because later this afternoon, I will be making another trip to your dealership to drop my car off with no money down and no future payments.”

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My Encounter with an Executive Editor

Posted by PROSE OF MINE Labels: ,


As some of you know, I recently finished a novel and had the amazing opportunity to pitch it to a New York Editor at a recent writing conference—wonderful lady whose name I won’t divulge. The meeting went something like this:
            I make my way to unknown editor’s table with a big frozen smile—not all squinted eyes and gums, but big.
            “Hello, I’m Cassandra,” I say, extending my hand out to said Editor.  “I have been looking forward to meeting you.”
            By looking forward to meeting her, I mean, I have been sick to my stomach for weeks.
            Editor shakes my hand, and smiling reassuringly, says, “It’s very nice to meet you. It’s always fun to put a face with the work after imagining what the writer might look like.”
            I’m not sure what she’s expecting me to look like, perhaps the gothic chick from Mean Girls? I push this thought to the far reaches of my mind and sit down.
            “I read your manuscript,” Editor says, placing it on the table between us.
            Side note: At this point, I feel like I’m standing under a flower covered alter at the ocean’s edge. A cool island breeze whips through my hair, ruffling the silky train of my one of a kind Vera Wang gown.  The tropical scent of hibiscus fills my nose. Holding both my hands in his, the Bachelor stares deeply into my eyes. A single rose rest on a pedestal next to us. This is it—the moment of truth. Butterflies flutter inside my stomach. I tremble slightly as I await his decision. Will it be me, or the girl in the other limo?
            “First of all,” Editor continues, “I found it very easy to get into your story.”
            Yes, yes, do go on.
            “It was very interesting. You set it up nicely. You have humor, sarcasm—nicely done”
            OMG! Is it possible? Could she really like it?
             “You do a good job of writing in first person. Your voice is strong, and your character’s are believable.” She pauses and smiles. “I think your book is sellable.”
            Sellable? Did she just say sellable? She does like it! The excitement of this possibility claws its way up my throat. Mentally, I am already dragging my suit case out of the attic and bouncing it down the stairs. Where am I going, you ask? New York City, of course.  
            “However,” Editor says.
            No, no. No “However.” Rewind. Go back. Remember my voice, my believable characters, and my humor? OK, just breathe. A little constructive criticism never killed anyone.
            “There are a few things I feel need a little massaging.”
            And out comes the beautiful girl in the other limo. For those of you who don’t know, massaging is a nice word for rewrite or change, and few, rarely means three. As you might guess, “Massage” no longer represents the same thing for me. However (not a fan of this word either), the conference was great. I met a lot of people and made a lot of connections. Now if you will excuse me, I’m off to rubdown my manuscript.

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THE SORORITY POSE

Posted by PROSE OF MINE Labels:



This Integrate model-type stance should not be attempted by just anyone. No, this precarious maneuver of skinny arms, perfect angles, and batting eyelashes is only achieved by the most talented of fraternity sisters. Let’s begin with the “skinny arm.” The hand and arm should be at a 90 degree angle with the hip. This drops the shoulder, creating a longer neck and more prominent collar bone. Next is the “angle.” Turn the body slightly sideways and face the camera head on.


Lastly, but most importantly, smileJ Wait! Do not smile too big, or you will just look ridiculous (this is a direct quote). The gums are not invited to this party.  Instead, bat the eyelashes slightly and grin with a modest amount of parent-purchased white teeth.


And there you have it. Please refer to attached photos for further illustrations and directions.
Smile on, AGD!


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Happy Birthday Mallory

Posted by PROSE OF MINE

Believing hear, what you deserve to hear:
Your birthday as my own to me is dear...
But yours gives most; for mine did only lend
Me to the world; yours gave to me a friend.
                                                               ~Martial
We love you, Mal-Mal.



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An average morning in the life of a 40 year old college student

Posted by PROSE OF MINE Labels:

 Most working women wake up in the morning to the soft musical ramblings of their alarm clocks. I am not most women. Instead, I’m startled awake by my howling beagle, Jasper, hours before my alarm is set to go off. So, like any sane individual, I leap from bed, hit my hip against the bar on my way through the kitchen, yank open the back door, and scream, “You better shut your mouth!” I can’t see Jasper in the dark, but I can visualize him impatiently tapping his paw for me to leave so he can commence his bellowing. I repeat this exercise twice. The third time his infuriating bark jerks me into consciousness, it's daylight. Again, I go to the door, yank it open, and holler, “Jasper, shut your mouth!” I wave his bark collar at him in warning. I swear he smiles at this. The sprinklers are running by this point, and he knows nothing short of a pot of gold would cause me to cross through it. I love him sooo much.

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