"It's simply not fair," sniffed Louella, as she toyed with her steaming bowl of terrapin soup, the special today at Galleycat's Cafe.
"Oh, stop complaining," replied Bat Segundo, Louella's best friend since they were both mere will of the wisps. "You really should have seen it coming!"
Louella put down her soup spoon, took off her stiletto pumps and began to rub her aching bunion. "Ms. Snark was even taken by surprise," she moaned. "Why everyone thought this genre would last forever! Even you, Bat! Come on, I know you can drop everything and give me ten chick lit books that were just published in the past few weeks!"
Bat slurped up her last drop of soup and fixed Louella with a mean glare. "Well, your mother wears Army boots, you wear stilettos and who gives a damn! Chick lit is dead. Got it?"
"But all my work for naught!" sighed Louella, leaning back in her chair and covering her face with her lace hanky. "My manuscript is finally complete! Proofread. Edited. It's written for women, young, sexy women who know their own minds; women who know what they want from men and just how to get it. My readers (I call them my little poodles)love the limelight. I even picked the title: PROMENADING POODLES: The Roar of the Greasepaint and the Smell of the Crowd.
Bat snickered softly. "God, Louella, you've made a real muddle of it, haven't you? But, can't you just change your market? From what I hear, paranormal romance is hot! Sounds to me like you've got a winner!"
Who is Ms Snark and why is she in my blog? However, I do like the conjunction of Promenading Poodles: The Roar of the Greasepaint, the Smell of the Crowd.
Scoring to come