David Thayer

The presiding judge in the case of the Thuringian Dressmaker murder has left a coded message in the text of his rambling decision to exonerate the Earl in the matter at hand. “The presence of a severed head on the fencepost indicates the victim’s demise while untimely was not the work of the fence’s owner but rather of as yet undetermined party or parties who remain at large.”

TV execs were dismayed by the decision. The Earl’s Beheading  is slated for the 4pm Saturday slot on NBC. “We can’t behead an innocent man,” said one producer. “Can we?”

Elsewhere a spokesperson for Ueberagent Lydia Careerbreaker denied rumors that she is Miss Snark. “No, Ms. Careerbreaker blogs only for CBS Marketwatch.” Her latest client four year old Eugenia of Goth reports progress in meeting the deadline for her novel “When Timmy is Sick.” She wrote two pages yesterday although some of the passages are hauntingly similar to another famous work, the earl’s own Voltaire’s Miasma. Proofreader Graf von Lederhosen thinks it’s a coincidence. “Great minds think alike,” he said.

Live hog prices nosedived on the Piltdown Exchange after one of the earl’s hogs disasembled the quotron machine on the floor of the exchange. “Forget about June deliveries,” said floor trader Martha Mayhew-Clive. “It’s chaos around here.” How the earl’s hogs made the drive from Wellington Leg remains a mystery although DCI Borchardt questioned a Madame Larue whose 1979 Volvo wagon was festooned with pro-hog stickers. “Hitch hiking is illegal,” Borchardt warned. “The hogs have been strongly cautioned,” he added.

Dateline Wellington Leg: Four year old Eugenia Phaeton of suburban Goth has signed a seventy book deal with an unnamed publisher announced Lydia Careerbreaker, Ueberagent. Ms. Careerbreaker was struck by Eugenia’s unusual wit in an email about preschool politics. “She captured the zeitgeist perfectly,” said Professor Moriarity who reviewed the email exchange while rebuilding a small bore Lotus. “The day goes faster,” she wrote, “when Timmy is sick.”

“When Timmy is Sick” has been optioned for film by Milo Minderbender Enterprises for seven figures and a box of crayons. Storyboards have been erected in places frequented by Eugenia in the event inspiration strikes. “The completed manuscript is due in July,” said Eddie “No Pressure” Testarossa. Page One was lost in a peanut butter and jelly industrial accident according to claims adjuster Big Hands Teddy Wonk. “It’s a total loss,” Big Hands said.

Despite the setback handlers and wranglers assigned to the project are optimistic. “No cartoons for Eugenia,” said an unnamed source not very close to the situation. “Her tour of Baltimore is on hold.”

Professor Moriarity hopes to have his Lotus roadworthy by the time “When Timmy is Sick” reaches editors this summer. “I hope she likes Gummibears,” he said. Forty thousand of them were located in the boot of the Lotus. “Still edible, but the colors are odd.”

I thought it might be appropriate to add a link to myself. Over on the sidebar is a link to The Untrained Eye which is a blog at Publishers Marketplace written by me. Why two blogs? Well, Publishers Marketplace is for the trade, so to speak. This blog is for those of you who’ve fled to the Seychelles after a bitter divorce, but now you’re having second thoughts and wonder if your hideaway in the Indian Ocean isn’t a tad remote. The nearest gas station is on Diego Garcia, the island, not the shortstop, and reading this blog is your last desperate attempt to stay current with all the literary news from home. Hey, who won the Oscars?

If there is crossover traffic from Costa Rica, and it is possible, then you don’t have to visit the Untrained Eye if you’ve been here first. Those arriving from Publishers Marketplace will find their luggage on Carousel Three, a place as jolly as the name implies…Carousel Three…with a captive audience publishers ought to focus on. Hey I don’t where your bag is, but here’s a book for you.

Somehow this is the most depressing scandal in the recent spate of scandals. The rise and fall of Kaavya Viswanathan happened within the space of a few months, hardly a blink in the life of a teenage prodigy now just a teenager again. Little Brown is pulling How Opal Mehta got Kissed, got Wild and got a Life. I can’t work myself in a state of righteous indignation over the fact that Kaavya hijacked another author’s work; I’m focused on the fact that she was the only kid in a roomful of adults, packagers, agents, editors, publishers all of whom understand the consequences of joyriding at this level. Getting angry at Kaavya is like declaring war on Bolivia for trafficking in black market cigars.

Maybe I’m distracted by the subject matter of the novel, the life of a teenage girl, as written by a teenage girl packaged and designed for the marketplace by savvy grownups. Perhaps Kaavya felt a bit overwhelmed by the idea of writing a novel. Maybe she panicked. Panic is a natural response when confronting a task you don’t know how to complete, another brick in the wall. Meeting expectations is not the key to maturity, evaluating them is. Bright teens with impeccable credentials haven’t learned this lesson yet, and civilized societies protect the young from their dumber impulses, or they try to, which is why parents become handwringing wrecks during their children’s rite of passage.

I will retract my defense if Kaavya turns out to be a forty year old man from Elko Nevada who entered Harvard as an Indian-American girl from New Jersey. You can’t be too careful with literary scandals these days. Here’s looking at you kid, you got yourself tangled in the fame machine.

Druidical & Literary Sports Bulletin: After impressing New York Jets coaches D&L sports editor Mandi Rice-Davies projects the Dowager Princess as the first round pick of the Jets. “Her combine numbers were astonishing. She made Mel Kiper’s hair stand on end.” DP or “the DP” is an outside linebacker as well as regent of Bavaria. Ms. Rice-Davies was arrested by Nassau County police shortly after filing this story when her press credentials were revoked. “She was blogging without a license,” a spokesperson said. “Nassau County won’t tolerate that.”

The Jets front office was reluctant to discuss draft day plans. If selected, the Dowager Princess would be the first royal ever chosen in the NFL draft. Her ongoing feud with author Mitch Albom casts a pall over her speed rush capabilities, noted one analyst. “Who’s next? Mike Lupica?”

D&L Publisher Oliver Castinstone was in meetings when Rice-Davies was taken into custody. The initial charge, spying for the Soviet Union, was later reduced. “Journalistic freedom is at stake here,” said lobbyist P-Lobby:  “This is an outrage,” he said. Rice-Davies may be fined fifty dollars and faces a ban from the Town of Hempstead. Rumors of a Morgan Stanley takeover of this blog drove the price of the publication up several cents on the Piltdown Exchange. “Another scandal? This is all we need,” moaned one floor specialist. “A major deal for the Druidical & Literary is days away.”

The Earl, a principal shareholder, is believed to be in seclusion near Elko Nevada. “He built a big mashed potato fort before he left,” reported Urquhart Depew. “He addressed the hogs in Latin.”

Just a quick word before the pop tarts spring from the Smythe Oven. Lars is adding links while tuning the author mobile; nakedauthors.com is a joint blog featuring Cornelia Read, Jacqueline Winspear, Patricia Smiley, Paul Levine, and James Grippando. Cornelia’s essay is the lead and reminds me and others here at the D&L that her release date is May 8, 2006.

Jacqueline Winspear’s Pardonable Lies has been nominated for an Agatha. The Maisie Dobbs series has been a smash hit. Patricia Smiley is the author of False Profits and Cover Your Assets. James Grippando’s latest is Got the Look. Paul Levine is the author of Solomon versus Lord; his latest is Deep Blue Alibi. Now they’re together in one place.

It’s EDGAR week and crime fiction takes center stage in the hearts and minds of the staff at the D&L. Cornelia Read, author of the forthcoming A Field of Darkness, has agreed to an interview. We expect to see her nominated for an EDGAR next year. Her debut novel will be released from Mysterious Press in early June. Eddie at Eddie’s Book Nook loved the arc as did Lars Kierkegaard, Publicist of Doom. Cornelia will be touring with Lee Child this spring; Lars hopes to have his 940 in top shape by then.  “Always it’s brake pads,” sez he. “I hope Lee Child drives a Volvo.”

The recent sunny weather is wreaking havoc in Ballard, Lars reports. “No rain, no clouds. Ballard Drugs sold its only tube of sunblock to vistors from Los Angeles. And so, we suffer.”

Lars handled the Earl’s book tour last Autumn. What would he have done differently? “I think the bookstores should know in advance when a great author is coming. My cellular phone did not work in the high desert and so the crowds were sparse. Our slogan “He’s No George Pelicanos” confused some people who thought Pelicanos was touring. The French philosopher bobble head dolls were a hit though. I’d do more outlet malls.”

Indeed the Earl was mobbed at the Redding Outlet Mall. “We gave away twenty dollar bills,” Lars recalls. “The free oil change was popular too.” Any advice for authors on tour? “Have the rotors measured not just the pads. Use genuine Volvo parts. Always be sure they validate parking…call Ballard Auto and Publicity if you want the real skinny.”

Thanks Lars.

We were doing the manuscript shuffle yesterday. An editor asked to see a manuscript late last week, so Diane and I worked on revisions all weekend, her birthday weekend, before emailing the manuscript to Bert on Monday; he’s been reading a WIP of mine and said, “hey, check for semi-colon use. Your new stuff is full of them.”

Like wildebeasts fleeing lions semi-colons were everywhere, grazing on page one, lurking on page three, thundering across the veldt all the way to the climax. Obviously a deranged writer had cracked open the file and inserted dozens of compound sentences; yikes, there’s one now. Anyway to top things off Bert emailed a narrative synopsis he cranked out at five in the afternoon. If you love synopsis writing, and who doesn’t, you know what a gift that is. Bert leapt over the wall to snag that one, so hat tip to him.

For Diane

In the shadow of the first life

Through the dawn of the second

You are the circle

I stand within.

Light fills the sky

Your light, your sky,

I am the circle

You stand within.

Our journey together

Is full of beginnings

The days belong to us

The chill of night

Is kept outside

We are the circle

We stand within.

I’ve whipped up a little paglia e fieno with the traditional flourish of peas and a hint of gorgonzola; this is to introduce my new blog The Fettered Gourmet. I’m leaving my post as food critic for the Druidical & Literary for both personal and professional reasons. My scandal ridden roman a clef is making the rounds in New York; after Lydia Careerbreaker tasted my Burgher Deluxe she waved her no unsolicited proposals rule and read my pages con brio. This is how I do things; this is why I am Mister Macaroni.

Not that she wasn’t critical. My seduction of Paris Milton above the bullpen in Yankee Stadium contained several improbabilities according to her trained eye. When she suggested it was the seventh inning stretch many of the manuscript’s problems solved themselves. Her “Plum Sykes meets Yogi Berra” tagline is sheer genius. She said my work made her think of Rick Moody, Italo Calvino, Maeve Benchy, and JD Robb. Those are some great ballplayers.

Of course my home in Wellington Leg is for sale. What with rising interest rates and a looming bubble I’ve been baking cookies. My realtor is worried that scouts from the Vicesima Claudia legion are camped nearby; hey, it’s a green belt. No one is greener than Mister Macaroni. My car has a sunroof.

An unnamed publishing executive was forced to listen to “My Sharona” while stuck in midtown traffic late Friday. Police from the Midtown North precinct were summoned to an address on Ninth Avenue where the abandoned vehicle was impounded. Neighbors complained after a local toddler asked his mother “is it just a matter of time, sharona?” Apparently these were his first words.

Suspicion has fallen on Herbert Gore Sassoon, who checked out of the Dixiecrat Hotel shortly before the building was scheduled for demolition. Mr. Sassoon is of course the notorious slush pile reanimated by a freak lightning strike near the Time Warner Building. “Mr. Sassoon is wearing a cardigan sweater with Chelsea FC embroidered on the back. His hair has…incredible bounce and body.”

Do not approach the slush pile, warned Chief of Detectives Nate Yougottabekiddingme. “He has My Sharona on MP3.” The chief assured assembled journalists that Mr. Sassoon would be captured. “It’s really just a matter of time.” Sharona?