I Feel Like Navin Johnson

I was just looking at Tucker Max's HuffPo piece again, and I saw that mentioned the advances Wankette and her dumpy slut pal Jessica Cutler got. Ready for this? $500,000 and $240,000, respectively. Both of their books were flops, and the second book in Wankette's deal will have to be a major bestseller to pull her publisher out of the hole. And that will not happen.

Meanwhile, I am reminded of something I meant to write about the other day. I, too, got an enormous advance, and I am trying to decide what to spend it on. Here are some ideas.

1. This ballpoint pen. Not a whole box. Just one. I don't want to blow my entire advance. They're pretty cool. These are medium-points, which are smoother to write with than fine points. And the ink is blue.

2. This wooden spoon. They have a bigger one, but it's out of my price range.

3. A pizza. I don't have a link for that, but it would cost around fourteen bucks. I'd have to chip in some of my own money. I think it would be worth it.

All kidding aside, my advance was pathetic, and they're paying me in TWO INSTALLMENTS, because they don't want to destroy the company's cash reserves. So I've covered the cost of my printer, as well as postage.

I had to tell you. It's just too funny. If you think they were cheap with me, imagine what it's like to be my agent. And Tucker and Maddox got $7500 each. For their BESTSELLERS.

In case you don't know it, publishers generally don't take back an advance just because a book doesn't sell. So the morons who snapped up Wankette and her slut pal are down over seven hundred grand, not including expenses outside of the advance. It has to be close to a million dollars. Publishing and promotion cost money.

You know what I am? I'm SEABISCUIT. The lame, scrawny horse no one wanted to buy. I may never rival Tom Clancy, but my books will sell. And if I'm ever interviewed about my success as a writer, I'll point to the framed photo of my first advance check, which will be on the wall over my desk. I should just frame the check itself. That's how much it's worth.

My work has always been under a curse, so this is nothing new. Crap like this always happens to me. Referring to the idiotic title battle that's going on right now at my publisher's offices, my agent said he had never seen anything like it in ten years in the business. I have no idea what catastrophes lie ahead, but I'll be amazed if they don't materialize. They always have. The stories I could tell.

I told my agent I didn't care about the advance. I'm working with a great editor, and that's worth a lot, and I would rather exceed expectations than fail to fulfill them, like Wankette and her buddy Skankette.

I'm suffering a lot over the book's title, but that's not my editor's fault. The sales staff handles that, and naturally, having absolutely no writing talent, they're screwing it up. My editor swears they won't touch the inside of the book, so as long as the title isn't a calamity, I should be fine. In fact, to a person used to having his writing ruined by editors, it's a dream come true.

Anyway, I thought you might want to find out what it's like to be a rich, famous author.