贪婪的出版商

1作者: cryNthedark3 天前原帖
贪婪的出版商们为了短期销售,系统性地抹去了严肃、发人深省和揭露真相的小说,无论是《沙滩兔子》书籍、逃避现实的书籍,还是漫画书。没有经过代理人的审核,主流出版界不会印刷任何有价值的作品。那么,一个拥有宏伟手稿的严肃作家该怎么办呢?他向公众提供一些预告,以产生足够的兴趣,打破当代出版的障碍。因此,我将发布一些我命名为《谁的应许之地》的戏剧性作品的预告片。 最令人愉快的 在考夫曼的凯迪拉克轿车后座,莎拉和大卫手牵手,感受到电流般的兴奋,他们目睹了交通流入好莱坞音乐厅的热闹场面,成千上万的观众在购票后急匆匆地奔向座位。考夫曼的豪华轿车从高地大道驶入好莱坞音乐厅的贵宾停车场。大卫无法将目光从莎拉的女人化身上移开。她把长长的栗色头发翻到头顶,披在肩上,露出了她高贵的脖子;一件海军蓝的外套垂到她的腰间,搭配的裙子使她的装扮更加完美。大卫则穿着他最喜欢的灰色人字呢运动夹克和深蓝色长裤,刚刚干洗过。对于这对年轻人来说,今晚的装扮象征着通往成年及其尚未探索的自由之门。 约瑟夫·考夫曼挥手示意停车员,后者正准备为莉亚打开车门。他打开车内灯,手中拿着一副歌剧用的双筒望远镜,递给女儿的伴侣。 “戴维,你知道我手里拿的是什么吗?” “是双筒望远镜,先生。” 约瑟夫露出顽皮的微笑,享受着与这个男孩在晚餐后的调侃。“它们对你说了什么,戴维?” “是的,先生。它们说所有的鸟都躲起来了,那我为什么在这里?” “我心中有一只鸟,一只天鹅。” “是的,先生,今晚最美丽的天鹅。” “那什么样的鸟陪伴着我们的天鹅?” “一只金丝雀,先生。一只无害的金丝雀。” “如果金丝雀表现不好该怎么办?” “我们太小了,不能打屁股,先生。” “确实如此。因此,我们在鸟笼上盖一块布。” “您的比喻听起来清晰明了,先生。”莎拉咯咯笑,母亲则不可置信地摇摇头,评论道:“约瑟夫,够了,别再打鸣了。我们可不想错过开场。” 在享用完卷心菜沙拉、白鱼和凯撒卷后,莎拉挽着大卫的手臂,搭在她的肩上,头靠在他的肩膀上,他们一起观看舞台上百人乐团的组建,近到可以辨认出音乐家的面孔。接着,祖宾·梅塔走上舞台,迎来热烈的掌声。音乐厅的灯光熄灭,唯有舞台亮着,观众们静默无声。梅塔举起指挥棒,布拉姆斯的第一交响曲开始演奏。 到第二乐章时,莎拉坐在大卫的腿上。 警觉的目光 莉亚·考夫曼坐在包厢座位后约二十五码的地方,肘部压在丈夫的身侧,惊呼道:“莎拉坐在他的腿上。把望远镜给我。” “这只是小狗的玩耍,我亲爱的。” “我必须知道他的手在哪里。” “你看一下。一只手在莎拉的肩上,另一只手拿着你为他们的晚餐准备的蔓越莓汁。放心,大卫绝不会做出不当的举动。我听说莎拉是掌控者。” “如果是这样,那权威就令人担忧。” 莎拉在大卫的腿上扭动着,试图引起他的注意,“大卫,我感觉到一点小兴奋。” “小兴奋是什么?” “你只需要知道我喜欢它。” 在中场休息时,考夫曼一家与女儿和大卫在包厢里会合。 莉亚·考夫曼询问:“大卫,你喜欢布拉姆斯吗?” “我觉得非常愉快,女士。”莎拉微笑着亲吻了大卫的脸颊。她的父亲忍住了笑声。 “为了减缓年轻人的浪漫,莉亚问道:“莎拉亲爱的,你真的有必要坐在大卫的腿上吗?” “我觉得这样非常愉快,亲爱的妈妈。”
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Avaricious publishers have systematically wiped out serious, thought-provoking and exposé novels for short-term sales, be it Beach Bunny books, escapism books, or comic books. of a thought-provoking book; nothing worthy gets printed in mainstream publishing unless it goes through an agent. So what is a serious writer with a monumental manuscript to do? He offers teasers to the public to generate enough interest to knock down the hurdles in contemporary publishing. So, I am publishing a few teasers from a dramatic rendering I entitle WHOSE PROMISED LAND. MOST AGREEABLE Sarah and David, holding hands in the backseat of Kaufman's Cadillac Sedan Deville, feel electrified as they witness the buzz of traffic entering the Bowl and the thousands of attendees buying tickets and rushing to their seats, as Kaufman’s luxury car turns off of Highland Boulevard into the Hollywood Bowl's patron parking. David cannot keep his eyes off Sarah's transformation into a woman. She flipped her long chestnut hair over her head and onto her shoulder, exposing her regal neck; a navy-blue jacket falls to her waist, and a matching skirt completes her outfit. David wears his favorite gray Herringbone sports jacket and dark blue slacks, freshly dry-cleaned. For the two youngsters, dressing for tonight's occasion presents a door to adulthood and its yet-to-be-explored liberties. Joseph Kaufman waves off the parking attendant, who waits to open Leah's door. He turns on the interior light and holds an opera's binoculars before his daughter's companion. "David, do you know what I hold?" "Binoculars, sir." Joseph’s playful smile appears as he enjoys the repartee he and the boy indulged in after their dinner exchange. "Do they speak to you, David?” Yes sir. They say all the birds are hunkered down, so why am I here?” “There is one bird I have in mind, a swan.” “Yes, sir, the most beautiful swan in attendance tonight.” “And what kind of bird joins our swan?” “A canary, sir. A harmless canary.’ “What is to be done if a canary behaves badly?” “We are too little to spank, sir.” “That is so. Therefore, we put a cloth over the bird’s cage.” "Your metaphor sounds loud and clear, sir." Sarah giggles, and her mother reacts with an incredulous shake of her head, commenting, “Joseph, enough Rooster crowing. We do not want to miss the opening.” After noshing on coleslaw, white fish, and Kaiser rolls, Sarah takes David's arm and places it across her shoulders, her head nestling on his shoulders, as they watch a hundred-piece orchestra assemble on the stage, close enough to discern the musicians' faces. Next, Zubin Mehta enters and walks to the center stage to loud applause. The Bowl's lights go dark except for the stage; the audience goes silent. Mehta raises his baton, and Brahms's Symphony Number I begins. By the second movement, Sarah sits on David's lap. A WATCHFUL EYE Leah Kaufman, sitting about twenty-five yards behind the box seats, presses her elbow into her husband's side and exclaims, "Sarah is sitting on his lap. Give me the binoculars." "It is just puppy play, my dear." "I must know where his hands are." "Take a look. One hand is on Sarah's shoulder, and the other is holding the Cranberry juice you packed with their dinner. Be assured that David will never make an untoward advance. I am informed that Sarah calls the shots." "If so, that authority is most worrisome." Sarah wiggles her butt on David's lap to claim his attention, "David, I feel a Little Woody." "What is a Little Woody?" "All you need to know is that I like it." During intermission, the Kaufmans join their daughter and David in the box. Leah Kaufman inquires, "Are you enjoying Brahms, David?" "I find it most agreeable, Ma'am." Flashing a smile, Sarah kisses David's cheek. Her father stifles his laugh. "Determined to slow down the youngsters' romance, Leah asks, "Sarah Dear, is it necessary for you to sit on David's lap?" "I find it most agreeable, Mother Dear."