Sometimes a Martini

Sometimes a martini just hits the spot. I finished a book over six months ago and set it aside. I loved it, but response was somewhat mediocre, one of the problems being that the title sounded like a romance novel. Nothing wrong with romance novels, but this is a thriller.


Sometimes a martini can get you whacked!

Two freakin’ years this post has been sitting the “drafts” bin, and I still haven’t had the martini I was going to talk about when I started this post. OK, I have had a couple of martinis in that time, but not the martini I was dying for in July of 2008.  Since then the manuscript’s been through a number of revisions, a gender change on the romantic interest (huh?) and a couple of other permutations. People from a couple of the larger houses have seen it:

Response A:” Great concept! An extreme escape thriller — will be a hard sell because it’s too real and the escape is too uncomfortable.” – Huh? too real? Maybe there is something to that. I did have a conversation with a filmmaker about it and he said, “Sounds like non-fiction to me.

Isn’t that the point? Don’t we want our stories to smack of realism? Aren’t scary things more scary, and thrillers more thrilling when they are realistic?

Response B: “Too complex. Trim it down to a couple of characters and get rid of the subplots.

A couple of contests, and several industry people said the title I used (a couple of military alphabet characters) sounded like a romance, which might be alright if it had more kissing and few explosions, crashes, and gunfights — but it doesn’t. So I changed the title. I’m not mentioning either title here because the manuscript is still up for grabs and I don’t want to jeopardize or prejudice any submissions or readers (hint, hint).

[ed. note: If you’ve got a short attention span, like I do, you don’t really want to know all this whiny crap. You want to know how a martini can get you whacked! — it’s coming. Really.]

So anyway,

A problem with me being a pseudonym is that I can’t take meetings (learned that living in L.A., but I digress), that other guy with the funny German name, who is too busy doing other things to worry about me, is supposed to be the one out there pitching this shit (er… stuff). I can sit in my office and email the submissions and all that, but I can’t really talk to anybody.

And what’s he doing? Nothing! Nada! Zip! Zilch! He’s not talking this sucker up at all anymore.

So I pour him a martini, then one for myself, and I sit him down and say… “Hey boss, what the hell is going on?”

He says, “nothing, that’s the problem. You can’t write for shit.”


“Yeah,” he says. “In fact I’m thinking pretty hard about just whacking you and moving on.”

“Whack? Me?” I ask. (Now some writers would insert the adverb “incredulously” here… but me, I follow the rules.)

“Yup,” he says. “Thinkin’ on it pretty damned hard as a matter of fact.” (Now you know why he’s not the writer.)

“As you know (now we really know why he’s not the writer) I pulled that crappy novella out of print.”

“What?” I ask. “You wrote that one, you just put my damned name on it.”

“Whatever,” he says. “Anyway, I don’t think you’re ever gonna sell anything. It’s time to move on.”


“I’m just sayin’,” he says. “I think it’s time to whack you.”

Then he gulps down the rest of his martini and the rest of mine!

“Be seein’ ya,” he says.

Then I just watch his fat ass walk out of my office.

Then I find out that he’s even told everybody on Facebook he’s gonna whack me. I know what I want to do, but he’s hidden all the vodka… I’m going to hide out on Pseudonyms Anonymous ( for a while.

(to be continued)

2 Responses to Sometimes a Martini

  1. E.C Stacy says:

    I love your stuff, Ron. Now let’s go inhale some martinis.

  2. ronchalice says:

    Oh, yeah… conference next week!