Read Online Blind Submission by Debra Ginsberg - Free Book Online

outfit to the ones both Anna and Nora were wearing. Obviously this was some kind of trick question. I had no idea what the answer was supposed to be.
    â€œUm…”
    â€œOh, for God’s sake, I don’t have time for this,” Lucy said with exasperation. “I want to talk to you about this Italian book.” She handed me Damiano Vero’s manuscript. My notes were clipped to the top and I saw that Lucy had written all over them. “Now, I gather that you really liked this, yes?”
    â€œYes, I thought the writing was great.” I scrambled to switch gears in an effort to keep up with Lucy’s broad jumps in topic.
    â€œWell, it
is
very good, you’re right, but I have some questions. First of all, it’s set in Italy.”
    â€œSome of it.”
    â€œYes, it’s set in Italy and Americans are very xenophobic. They may not want to read about Italy right now.”
    â€œBut what about
Under the Tuscan Sun
? Italy’s always been seen as so romantic,” I said. “Besides, when he gets to this country, he really cleans up his act. It’s kind of an immigrant success story in a way.” I was beginning to warm to the discussion. I’d almost forgotten about the files, the phone calls, and Nora’s glowering looks.
    â€œThat’s another thing. I don’t think this should be a memoir. Memoirs—
especially
addiction memoirs—have become the wicked stepchildren of publishing lately. We’re going to have to call this something else.”
    I watched as Lucy furrowed her brow in concentration.
    â€œLet’s pitch it as autobiographical fiction,” she said finally. “That should cover all the bases.” She gave me a sharp glance. “You should be writing this down, Angel.” I looked down at my empty hands, debating whether or not to make a run for my desk for pen and paper. “Next time,” Lucy stated, “come in here prepared, please. Now, is he still addicted? That would make a great angle. We could get him into rehab, give him interviews from a hospital or something.”
    â€œActually, I think his point was that he’s clean now.”
    Lucy shot me a disapproving look. “Well, we’ll see what we can do about that. Much better if he
hasn’t
cleaned up. This book could
be
his salvation instead of the book being
about
his salvation. Yes, yes, that’s
much
better. What does he do?”
    â€œHe’s a pastry chef.”
    â€œNo, that’s no good. Too many chef tales out there already. We’re on the fourteenth minute of that story and the clock’s ticking.” She paused for a moment, tapping her Waterman fountain pen against the pages on her lap. “We’ll just say he’s unemployed. Impoverished and addicted. That’s much better. Heroin and pastry don’t make a sexy combination. This stuff about the park is fabulous,” she said, flipping through the bent sheets. “Is the manuscript finished?”
    â€œI don’t know.”
    She sighed. “These are the things you really need to be paying attention to, Angel. Well, it doesn’t matter. I can sell it on a partial with the right pitch. I can sell it as…an Italian
Trainspotting.
Yes, that’s it. Unless you think the heroin thing is played out at this point. What’s your take on that, Angel? You’re young, you should know.”
    â€œI don’t think so,” I said tentatively. “It never really seems to be, you know,
finished
really.”
    â€œHas he contacted any other agents?”
    â€œI’m not sure.”
    â€œHaven’t you spoken to him?” She seemed appalled.
    â€œNo, I—”
    â€œI left a note on your desk about this. I mentioned, specifically, that you needed to call him as soon as possible.”
    â€œI’m sorry, I didn’t see it.”
    She stared at me hard, as if weighing my answer for the truth in it.