My literary career has hit a bit of a snag. Last Friday I sent off a rough draft of my manuscript for Eat, Pray, Love and Die in a Fire to my editors at Doubleday, the same publishing house which produced such Chick Lit classics as The Devil Wears Prada, Confessions of a Shopaholic and OMG, Do you Think I Should Marry this Handsome Rich Prick with Short Hair or This Handsome Starving Artist with Long Hair? I'm So Confused, Gimme Some Chocolate!
Yesterday I received an outraged email from my literary agent, saying that the editors at Doubleday had called my first draft "misogynist" and "juvenile". An unnamed female intern said that my ideas would be "appalling even in a Muslim country". They also said the long passages of the book which were written in Rhyming verse and ghetto vernacular were "crude and unconvincing".
"You can't just keep rhyming 'bitch' with 'bitch'!" was a direct quote.
Considering that my literary reputation is on the line, I've taken a few of their notes and I'm considering their suggestions for a new, gentler title, some of which are Eat, Pray, Love and get a Bad Sunburn and You're Definitely Gonna Step in Yak Shit.
As for my telenovella, they've brought in a hackish script doctor who is changing the whole script. He's added a subplot about narcotrafficantes, several dozen more love scenes, and a pair of twin brothers, one of whom may or may not be a robot. I'll get back to you on that.