Monday, April 25, 2005
The dealmaker
So it was a typical Sunday and I had my morning coffee in my office looking out at the vast green land that is mine, all mine, when the phone rang and I heard the voice of Schyler Bondpaper on the answering machine response. I picked it up and made no apology for screening the call. Schyler said he was used to it, anyway, because anyone who thinks he will call keeps their answering machine prepared.
I asked him what he wanted from me on a Sunday morning.
He said, “Let’s talk more about your autobiography.”
Schyler, for any readers who happen to be unworldly folk, is a biography expert. He has been responsible for major biography book deals and, after living through an explosion planted by his former wife to assassinate him, works out of an office in Barcelona.
“So you must think you can get me a deal,” I said to him.
“Of course. I have a number of publishers interested,” he said. “But their deals won’t last.”
“Why not?”
“Some of the men involved don’t bribe easily.”
“Look,” I said, widening my eyes so there would be a clause for this quote, “I will entertain any deals.”
Schyler insisted upon telling me one of the deals while he was on the phone, even though I was not ready to entertain any particular deal. After all, I was only on my first cup of coffee and rarely entertained anything or anybody before my second cup. Still, I listened.
“You can write anything you want,” he said, “and have only one source. That source can be yourself. And you can choose what photos are published, as long as none of them show you with Olivia Newton John.”
“Sounds all right so far,” I said.
“There are some details to work out, yet,” he said. “But I can make this deal great for you.”
“Work on it,” I said, wishing him a happy rest of the day and hanging up.
Then, I went to my computer, launched Word and continued my current spectacle, The Complete and Unabridged History of Japan. But before I typed a word I thought to myself how I regretted tossing a full ash tray at Schyler’s head back in ’87 when he was still married to a wanna-be assassin.
I will keep you posted on the developments concerning the autobiography.
I asked him what he wanted from me on a Sunday morning.
He said, “Let’s talk more about your autobiography.”
Schyler, for any readers who happen to be unworldly folk, is a biography expert. He has been responsible for major biography book deals and, after living through an explosion planted by his former wife to assassinate him, works out of an office in Barcelona.
“So you must think you can get me a deal,” I said to him.
“Of course. I have a number of publishers interested,” he said. “But their deals won’t last.”
“Why not?”
“Some of the men involved don’t bribe easily.”
“Look,” I said, widening my eyes so there would be a clause for this quote, “I will entertain any deals.”
Schyler insisted upon telling me one of the deals while he was on the phone, even though I was not ready to entertain any particular deal. After all, I was only on my first cup of coffee and rarely entertained anything or anybody before my second cup. Still, I listened.
“You can write anything you want,” he said, “and have only one source. That source can be yourself. And you can choose what photos are published, as long as none of them show you with Olivia Newton John.”
“Sounds all right so far,” I said.
“There are some details to work out, yet,” he said. “But I can make this deal great for you.”
“Work on it,” I said, wishing him a happy rest of the day and hanging up.
Then, I went to my computer, launched Word and continued my current spectacle, The Complete and Unabridged History of Japan. But before I typed a word I thought to myself how I regretted tossing a full ash tray at Schyler’s head back in ’87 when he was still married to a wanna-be assassin.
I will keep you posted on the developments concerning the autobiography.
