Writer Lady sits down in High Command and closes her eyes as her breathing settles into a rhythmic pattern and slows to something calmer. She listens to the house and all who dwell within it. First, she listens for Daemon, a muffled cry of fear, screams of frustration, sounds of a demon thrashing about breaking things. Of course the last time that happened she heard lots of grunts, groans, and cries for help from House herself. Daemon was seemingly unaffected by the anxiety that was spreading, they were safe, for the time being anyway.
Relaxing a bit she returns to the source of her current torture, her query letter. After looking around the room a few dozen times. she's hit with a spark of inspiration. Confident no one else is doing what she's thinking of, she completes a new query letter in a matter of minutes. “Yay.” She whispers as she finishes typing.
“I heard that.” Carp says as he enters High Command. “Finally getting that query written?”
“Yes. All finished.” Writer Lady announces with a wide grin.
“May I read it?”
“Please do.” The Assassin-In-Training stands behind the Big Writing Chair and begins reading. “Uh-huh.. uh-huh..” Carp laughs and points to the second paragraph before continuing to read and say uh huh. He turns to Writer Lady after he finishes reading. “You're going to have to write a new one.” He says.
Writer Lady drops her forehead to the surface of her desk in defeat. After a few beats she raises her head and turns to Carp. “You said that the first query letter was too boring. It didn't capture the essence of my novel. You said the second query letter showed no imagination.”
He nodded.
“This captures the feeling of the story and shows lots of imagination. It's practically dripping with it.”
“Too much. If there was any more going on I'd feel like I was trapped in a chocolate factory with Willy Wonka. Try again.”
“Why?!” Writer Lady asks. “Whatever happened to ‘an agent will accept a query written in crayon if it’s a great book?’”
“You haven't made your book sound that good.” He says. “The agent needs to feel like they’re about to embark on a journey with someone who can talk about their work intelligently and in an interesting manner with the general public.” Carp thinks for a minute, “They want to know you can talk to Oprah about your novel and get her interested in your work.”
“You used to be a novelist, you've read my book, would you write it...”
“...for you? No Sweetie, good query letters are a skill that you need to learn. Besides, if I wrote your query they would recognize me and run for the hills. Trust me you don’t want my stamp on this.”
Writer Lady sighs, “I wasn't asking you to do my work for me, I was hoping you could do it with me. Sit down next to me, show me where I'm going wrong as I'm doing it, point me in the right direction so it's not so painful and I have a firmer foundation when it's time to write the next query letter.” She looks at Carp beseechingly. “Please? I won't let myself start another book until I finish this query letter and I was supposed to start the new book three weeks ago.”
“You and your silly rules.” Carp responds. “I'll sit with you. It’s your letter, you have to do all the heavy lifting.”
“I'm expecting to.”
“Open a new document.” Carp instructs.
As the pair type, Writer Lady and Carp argue then discuss which leads back to arguing.
Anxiety alert. Anxiety alert! Sirens go off inside High Command complete with warning light flashing. Writer Lady and Carp stop working and look at each other.
“Stop!” Writer Lady calls.
The light on the wall next to the closet door stops flashing. The alarm sounds cease. The pair listen and wait for the sound of a panic attack in progress. They hear nothing.
“I don't hear anything.” Carp says.
“The alarm must be wrong. If there was another case of anxiety in this house, trust me, we would have heard it.” Writer Lady says.
The pair return to the query letter.
Anxiety alert! Anxiety alert!
The light goes off again, both Carp and Writer Lady jump.
“Stop!” Writer Lady calls.
The alarm shuts down. They listen and hear nothing.
She looks at Carp. “Are you feeling anxious?”
“About?” He asked, gesturing to the computer monitor. “No Sweetie, I used to write these in my sleep. Are you?”
“I was more anxious about query writing hours ago and I wasn't tripping the alarms. It's not me.” Writer Lady turns towards the entry to High Command. “I think we should do a walk-through.” She says as she rises from her chair.
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