sk.theplant-第23部分
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to my office with a load in his balls and a chip on his shoulder。 That's the kind of judgement only time can confirm； and I know very well that men after sex usually turn into exactly the same men they were before sex； but I have hopes for Herb。 And I never wanted to change his life； all I wanted was to clear away as much of the crap between us as I could； so we can work as a team。 I never knew how much I wanted this job until this week。 How much I wanted to make a success of this job。 If blowing all four of those guys in Times Square at high noon would help that happen； I'd run out to Game Day on 53rd and buy myself a pair of knee…pads。
Spent the rest of the day working on the joke book。 How foul in concept； how scabrous in execution。 。 。 and what a success it is going to be in an America that still longs for the death penalty and secretly believes （not everyone； but a goodly number of citizens； I'd bet） that Hitler had the right idea about eugenics。 There is no shortage of these nasty； mean…spirited boogers； but the weird thing is how many I'm making up on my own。
What's red and white and has trouble turning corners？ A baby with a javelin through its head。
What's small； brown； and spits？ A baby in a frypan。
Little girl wakes up in the hospital and says； 〃Doctor！ I can't feel my legs！〃 Doctor replies； 〃That's normal in cases where we have to amputate the arms。〃
I am grossed out by my own inventiveness。 Question is； is it mine？ Or am I getting these ideas from the same place Herb Porter got his new lease on sexual life？
Never mind。 Weekend's almost here。 Supposed to be warm； and if so I'm going to Cony Island with my favorite niece； our yearly rite of spring。 A couple of days away from this place may help to put all questions in perspective。 And Riddley's due back next week。 I'll be hoping to fort him in his time of sorrow as much as possible。
Keeping a journal reminds me of what old Doc Henries used to say after he gave me a tetanus shot when I was ten： 〃There； Sandra； that wasn't so bad； was it？〃
Not at all。 Not at all。
from the office of the editor…in…chief
TO： John DATE 4/3/81 MESSAGE： I've made two calls since reading your Ms。 Report。 The first was to that astute business lad and all around prince of a guy； Harlow Enders。 I lofted a trial balloon concerning a Zenith House hardcover； and despite dredging up a phrase which I thought would appeal to his presumed imagination （if you're wondering； it was 〃Event Publishing〃）； he shot it down at once。 His stated reason is there is no h'cover infrastructure either at Zenith or in the larger world of Apex Corporation； but we both know better。 The real issue is lack of confidence。 All right； okay； fine。
Second call was to Alan Williams； a senior editor at Viking Press。 Williams is one of the best in the business； and save your nasty （〃Then how do you know him？〃） question。 The answer is； from The New York Health Club racquetball tournament； where the gods of chance paired us three years ago。 We have played off and on ever since。 Alan says that if the Saltworthy is as good as you say it is； that we can probably swing a soft…to…hard deal； with Viking doing the h'cover and Zenith the pb。 I know it isn't precisely what we wanted； John； but think of it this way： did you ever in your life believe there might e a day when we would be doing the pb edition of a Viking Press book？ Little Zenith？ And as for the cynical Mr。 Saltworthy； I think you could say his luck has changed with a vengeance。 We might have been able to swing 20；000； and that much only if we'd been able to get Enders enthusiastically on board。 With Viking as a partner； we may be able to score this guy a 100；000 advance。 That's my salary for almost four years。
Williams wants to see the ms。 ASAP。 You should take a copy over to their offices on Madison Avenue yourself。 Put on a title page that says something like LAST SEASON； by John Oceanby。 Sorry about the cloak and dagger； but Williams thinks it's necessary； and so do I。
Roger
PS： Make me a copy that I can take home and read over the weekend； would you？
interoffice memo
TO： Roger FROM： John RE： 〃LAST SEASON；〃 by 〃John Oceanby〃
Are you saying you set all this in motion without reading the book？ That takes my breath away。
John
from the office of the editor…in…chief
TO： John DATE： 4/3/81 MESSAGE： You're my guy； John。 We may have had our differences from time to time； but I've never doubted your editorial judgement for a single moment。 If you say this is the one； this is the one。 On that score； the ivy makes no difference。 You're my guy。 And while I probably don't need to tell you this； I will： no contact with James Saltworthy until we hear from Alan Williams。 Okay？
Roger
interoffice memo
TO： Roger FROM： John RE： Vote of confidence To say I'm touched by your confidence in me doesn't go far enough； boss。 Especially after the Detweiller fuck…up。 Fact is； I'm sitting here at my desk and damned near blubbering on my blotter。 All will be as you say。 My lips are sealed。
John
PS： You do know； don't you； that Saltworthy must have already sent the book to Viking？
from the office of the editor…in…chief
TO： John DATE： 4/3/81 MESSAGE： First； no blubbering on the blotter…blotters cost money； and as you know； all expenses must now be forwarded to the parent pany on a week by week basis （if we needed another sign that The End Is Near； surely that's it）。 Blubber in your wastebasket。 。 。 or go on down to Riddley's former quarters and water the plant with your grateful tears。
（Yes； I know perfectly well that no one is paying the slightest attention to my strong remendation that we all stay clear of the ivy。 I could put it in writing； I suppose； but it would just be a waste of ink。 Especially since I've been down there a time or two myself； breathing deep and drawing inspiration。）
Second； how can you call the Detweiller business a fuck…up； considering how it has turned out？ Harlow Enders and Apex may not know we're ready to turn the corner into a glorious future； but we do！
Third； Alan Williams checked the files over there。 Last Survivor was supposedly read （or scanned； or perhaps just shifted from the envelope it came in to the one it went back in） and rejected in November of 1978。 The editor who signed off on it was one George Flynn； who left publishing to set up his own job…printing business in Brooklyn about a year ago。 According to AW； and I quote； 〃George Flynn had the editorial antennae of a rutabaga。〃
Fourth； don't give the ms。 to LaShonda。 Make the copies yourself； and remember the false title page。
Fifth （I'm ready for a fifth； believe me）； please no more memos until at least afternoon。 I know I said 〃everything in writing〃 from here on out； but my head is starting to ache。 I have one from Bill I haven't even looked at。
Roger
interoffice memo
TO： Roger FROM： Bill Gelb RE： Possible Bestseller
You asked for ideas； and I've had what might be a doozy； boss。 I went over to Smiler's earlier in the day （warning： that idiotic woman with the guitar is still in front…if she gets picked up and institutionalized； I hope the judge sends her to music school） and checked out their paperback rack。 It's a pretty good one （i。 e。； lots of Pocket Books； Signets； Avons； Bantams； no Zenith Houses except for one dusty Windhover that was published 2 years ago）。 I counted five so…called nonfiction books about aliens and/or flying saucers； and six on investing in the Reagan Era stock market。 My idea is suppose we bined the two？
The core concept is this： a stockbroker is abducted by little gray men who first read his brainwaves； suck blood from his nasal cavities； and probe his anus…standard stuff； in other words； been…there done…that。 But then； to make up for the inconvenience； they give him stock tips based on their certain market knowledge； obtained in faster…than…light trips to the future。 Most of it would be zen stuff like 〃Never fill your barrow with old bricks〃 and 〃Ancient stars offer the best navigation。〃 This crap would； however； be spiced with more practical advice like 〃Never sell short in a bull market〃 and 〃In the long run； power and light stocks always rise。〃 We could call it Alien Investing。 I know that at first blush the idea sounds crazy； but who would have figured a breakout bestseller called Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance？
I even have a writer in mind…Dawson Postlewaite； aka Nick Hardaway； the Macho Man himself。 The stock market is Dawson's hobby （fuck； it's his mania； what keeps him poor and thus in our stable） and I think he'd almost do it gratis。
What do you think？ And feel free to tell me I'm nuts； if that's what you think。
Bill
from the office of the editor…in…chief
TO： Bill Gelb DATE： 4/3/81
MESSAGE： I don't think you're nuts。 No more so than the rest of us； anyway。 And it's a great title； almost a guaranteed pick…it…up…and…take…a…look on a rack of paperbacks。 Alien Investing is hereby green…lit。 On the cover I see a photo of the Stock Exchange with a space alien laid in； shooting cosmic rays （green； like the color of money） from his big black eyes。 Get Postlewaite on it at once。 I know he's got a deadline on Fresno Firestorm； but I'll see he gets the necessary extension。
R。
WHILE YOU WERE OUT！
Caller Riddley Walker For Roger Wade Date April 3rd 1981 Time 12：35 PM Message He will be back Wednesday or Thursday of next week。 Winding up mother's affairs taking longer than he thought； There are difficulties with his brother and sister。 Mostly sister。 Asks if you will water plant but not mention to J。 Kenton that you are doing it。 Says 〃hoodoo ivy make dat boy pow'ful nervous。〃 Whatever that means。 Message taken by LaShonda
From Roger Wade's Audio Journal； Cassette 1
This is Friday the third of April。 Afternoon。 Bill Gelb has e up with an idea。 It's a dandy； too。 I'm not surprised。 Given what's happening； brilliance around here is almost a foregone conclusion。 When I returned from lunc
