Contrary to popular belief, Julie hasn't "gone Hollywood" as a result of her recent success to the exclusion of her friends in the blogosphere. What's really been keeping me from my usual zeal for self-absorbed public ranting is writing a book proposal inspired by my entries here over the last year. Yes, Julie Goes To Hollywood: A Single Girl, A Second Chance, And The Dream That Won't Die!, Already, Die! is nearly ready to go on the auction block to a shortlist of Fabulous New York Publishers. Unlike the Hollywood types I so strongly hesitate to come out and name, my Big Deal New York Literary Agent is a man so civilized he probably wouldn't mind my revealing his actual name here rather than referring to him as "Literary Boy." He is Jason Anthony, with the Zachary, Shuster, Harmsworth Agency in Manhattan.
I could not make up this fellow if I were writing a Sex & The City spec. He has a bulldog named Humbert who likes to go out and roll in snow in the middle of the night and thus doesn't care a whit if I call his cell at midnight to ask his favorite flavor of Jelly Belly. He's a longtime fan of the blog, who thinks, and I quote, that I am "Sedarisesque." I didn't ask if this meant Amy or David because I'm totally down with it either way and would be especially happy to be perceived as their love child. But that would be gross, since they're full-on brother and sister, and hailing from North Carolina is really no excuse for that sort of behavior. Besides, David is gay and has married well. Like me, Amy can't seem to land a real man and has an imaginary boyfriend. Hers is a swarthy foreigner named Raoul. They often quarrel before making passionate love. I only know this because she's always on Letterman yakking about the guy with that mad glint in her eye that so delights and entertains Dave.
Now that I've finally conquered Hollywood after all these years with an overpaid assignment to write my first studio screenplay, my greatest hope is that the literary world receives me with refreshing graciousness and expediency. I expect to be mass published at once in paperback, feted with free gifts and prizes, and sent on a whirlwind book tour concentrating in and around the South Pacific. Or at least acknowledged in some small way with, say, a charming note and a correctly spelled word of encouragement. Ten years in this town and a girl learns not to ask for too much, even if she is so strongly influenced by the nation's greatest living satirist and his loopy actress-playwright sister. I always wanted to be a Letterman favorite.