My life as America’s Next Top Author

By Jessa Slade

Current working on: Writing FORGED OF SHADOWS; brainstorming novella; lining up promotions for SEDUCED BY SHADOWS

Mood: Potentially dangerous, like a cat with blown pupils



Culled from reality television files

(Fade in)
A writer hunched at an ugly desk, pounding on a non-ergonomic keyboard. Crap lighting.

{{Note to producer: Chiropractic tie-in? Lasik? Check with PA about ad potential}}

Voice over: {{Confirm James Earl Jones}}
Last week on America’s Next Top Author, Jessa scooped out her roommate’s eyes with a limited edition commemorative long-handled tea ball just – as she put it – to “get some @*&^ quiet writing time around this #%&* hole.”

Jump cut: Confessional booth:
Jessa (at keyboard): He knows not to sneak up on me when I’m that close to the end of a scene. But I did kinda feel bad. I won’t be able to use that squealing sound until chapter seven. I shoulda waited on the tea ball.

Boom shot: Outside writer’s garret
Strike writer’s garret. Windows are too damned filthy to shoot past.
Relocate to cabana.

Pool boy: Jessa is so talented, not to mention lovely. She can extend a metaphor even longer than it takes me to wax my chest. I tried to put the moves on her, but she said her heart belongs to her hero. I’m devastated, truly. I may not recover until next week when we have the writing challenge where the authors have to write a consummated love scene without using gaze, glance, breath, turned, shrugged, or growled. Still, my money’s on Jessa to do away with the eyeballs.

Close up: Pool boy’s abs

Jessa (at keyboard, glaring at monitor): It’s all in my head. Why can’t I get it on paper like it is in my head?

Split screen: Writer (still at keyboard); Celebrity psychologist in comfy chair
VO: (Psychologist)
As you can see from the electrodes implanted in Jessa’s brain, there’s a firestorm of activity through the first three chapters that almost flat lines through the sagging middle. What we consider normal cognitive function doesn’t return until almost a month after typing The End. We’re arranging for hourly doses of Ketamine for when the first reviews start coming in. Unfortunately, we’ve had difficulties medicating her before. While she was waiting for The Call, we had to rely solely on buckets of raw cookie dough. Who could’ve anticipated the effect a bucket of raw cookie dough has on a writer’s butt?

Vignette: Feather quill and parchment paper
CG morph to: Dead moth on unvacuumed carpet

Jessa (still at keyboard) {{Note to in-house script team: Can we really not get another shot of these writers that doesn’t involve the freakin’ keyboard? Booooring.}}: Yeah, it’s not quite as easy as I thought it’d be. Somebody told me there’d be a pool boy. But I’ve got this new idea for the next book...

Sunset through filthy windows. Writer at keyboard, staring into the middle distance, faint smile on her lips.
(Fade out)

VO: Next week, our writers take a break to work on revisions...

Jessa (not at keyboard): You want shorter, punchier dialogue?

End shot: Fist in camera lens.

Go to commercial.