Bag of Bones   ::   Кинг Стивен

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I did my crosswords, I bought myself an acoustic steel guitar and started learning how to play it (I was never going to be invited to tour with Patty Loveless or Alan Jackson, however), I scanned each day’s bloated obituaries in the Derry News for names that I knew. I was pretty much dozing on my feet, in other words. What brought all this to an end was a call from Harold Oblowski not more than three days after Debra’s book-club call. It was storming out-side—a vicious snow-changing-over-to-sleet event that proved to be the last and biggest blast of the winter. By mid-evening the power would be off all over Derry, but when Harold called at five P.M… things were just getting cranked up.

“I just had a very good conversation with your editor,” Harold said.

Very enlightening, very energizing conversation. Just got off the in fact.”

“Oh?”

“Oh indeed. There’s a feeling at Putnam, Michael, that this latest of yours may have a positive effect on your sales position in the It’s very strong.”

“Yes,” I said, “I’m taking it to the next level.”

“Huh?”

“I’m just blabbing, Harold. Go on.”

“Well… Helen Nearing’s a great lead character, and Skate is your villain ever.” I said nothing. “Debra raised the possibility of making Helen’s Promise the opener of a book contract. A very lucrative three-book contract. All without prompting from me. Three is one more than any publisher has to commit to ’til now.

I mentioned nine million dollars, three per book, in other words, expecting her to laugh… but an has to start somewhere, and I always choose the highest ground I I think I must have Roman military officers somewhere back in r family tree.” Ethiopian rug-merchants, more like/t, I thought, but didn’t say. I felt the do when the dentist has gone a little heavy on the Novocain your lips and tongue as well as your bad tooth and the patch surrounding it. If I tried to talk, I’d probably only flap and spit. Harold was almost purring. A three-book contract for the mature Michael Noonan. Tall tickets, baby. time I didn’t feel like laughing. This time I felt like screaming. went on, happy and oblivious.

Harold didn’t know the book-tree had died. Harold didn’t know the new Mike Noonan had shortness of breath and projectile-vomiting fits every time write. want to hear how she came back to me, Michael?” it on me.”

“Well, nine’s obviously high, but it’s as good a place to start as any. We feel this new book is a big step forward for him.” This is extraordinary. Extraordinary.

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