152. Convincing Lenore

Burbank and I were in my hotel room throwing sharp whispers at each other about what the hell we were supposed to do to get my publishing house out of the grip of these aliens. Then Lenore came in unannounced, assuming I’d already gotten ready for tonight’s book event, which I’d forgotten about even though it’s my last one of the tour. Burbank threw himself at her feet. “Lenore, you’ve got to help us!”

“You can’t tell her!” I said. “We’ll sound crazy.”

“Lenore, I’ve got..a…a friend,” Burbank said. “You have to represent him and get his manuscript published.”

Lenore looked annoyed and explained that it didn’t work that way and she would have to see if the writing was any good and fit her taste and anyway she wasn’t taking on new authors at the moment. So Burbank graveled more until he cracked. “Aliens have taken the publishing house hostage and they won’t give ‘em back unless you give them a book deal!”

Lenore just stared at him.

“I told you it sounded crazy,” I said.

Just then, there was a knock on the door, so I answered it and it was room service. I told him I didn’t order any room service, but the bellhop insisted on giving me a tray of raw fish which smelled terrible. I argued with him until Burbank came to the door, shouted at the man, and slammed the door. “Sorry,” he said. “I set that prank up yesterday.”