With Apologies to Eartha Kitt
By Jeanne Cook
Santa baby, just put an agent under my tree,
for me.
Been an awful good girl.
Santa baby, and hurry up that contract tonight.
Santa baby, a few more sales of the shorts would be swell,
as well.
Been an angel all year.
Santa baby, and hurry up acceptance tonight.
Think of all the subs I've made.
Think of all the rejections I've been forced to save.
I really do believe in you.
Won't you please, believe in me?
Santa baby, forgot to mention one little thing.
A ring,
from the top agent out there.
Santa baby, and hurry up that contract tonight.
Santa honey, a few more essays taken and loved,
and paid.
Paying markets are best.
Santa Baby, and hurry up acceptance tonight.
Come and trim my Christmas tree,
With a "wowed" acceptance from the 'zine Big 3.
Next year I'll submit even more,
if you'll just get me in the door.
Oh, Santa cutie, I'd like a three-book contract and that's not
a lot
to ask of Tor, Baen or DAW.
Santa baby, and hurry up the contracts tonight.
Hurry up acceptance tonight.
Hurry up the contracts tonight.
Hurry. Tonight.
Jeanne Cook lives in Phoenix with her two most demanding
critics (her husband and teenaged daughter) and far more furred beasts than
originally agreed to in the marriage vows. She works for Corporate America by
day, and many times night, and writes all the other times. Sleep is optional.
Drink is not. For this and other musings, please visit her blog at
http://jeannetgc.livejournal.com/.
