Snake Eater by William G. Tapply Read Free Book Online Page A

“Maybe Yale bred that into us. The lone-wolf mentality. Does this mean—?”
    “I handle everything myself,” he interrupted. “Personal attention. My writers always know who they’re dealing with. They appreciate it that way. I’ve got a few big name writers, and several good solid pros. They take all my time, keep me as busy as I want to be. It’d take something really special for me to bring another writer aboard, especially someone who’s got no track record. Something like what you sent me, I just have a policy against even looking at stuff like that, and I’m afraid I’m pretty closed-minded about unproven writers. Do you understand?”
    “Sure. That’s fine. I appreciate your looking at it, anyway. So what did you—”
    “I mean,” Al went on quickly, “we do have to keep bringing new blood into the literary world and all that. Every bestselling author in history started with a first book. But a little mom-and-pop operation like mine, I just don’t have the luxury of beating my brains out trying to sell something that’s not going to make anybody any money. That’s just how it’s gotta be. Big agencies are different. They’re always trying to sell promising new writers. It’s like working pro bono . Every writer—your Hemingways and your Micheners and your Stephen Kings—they all started as unknowns. Agents and publishers know this. Nothing they like better than discovering the next Elmore Leonard. It’s rare, first books making money. But good writers will make everybody money in the long run.”
    “So maybe you can recommend someone for me, Al. Someone who’ll give this book a look. I mean, if it’s got some potential.”
    “No. I can’t.”
    “Well, sure, if it’s not—”
    “You said you didn’t read it.”
    “No.”
    “You should read it.”
    “Well, when you send it back, maybe I will.”
    “You missed the point,” said Al.
    “The point?”
    “Look,” he said. “I’m not quite finished with it. But this thing is absolute dynamite. It’s wild. An incredible yarn. A genuine page-turner, and not that badly written. It’s a fucking powder keg, Brady. Bestseller material, handled right. This guy’s got a fantastic imagination.”
    “You mean….?”
    “I mean I want it. Listen, I’ve got to finish it, and there are a few people I want to show it to. But as far as I’m concerned, you can tell your friend there that he can expect to be rich and famous real soon.”
    “I’m not sure he cares about rich, and I have a strong feeling he’s dead set against famous.”
    “I think,” said Al, “that we won’t be able to avoid the rich part. Preserving his anonymity can probably be done. Still, eventually I’ll need to talk with him.”
    “I’ll see what he says.”
    “No disrespect, Brady, but you know you’re superfluous here. The agent’s the one who handles all the legal stuff, and I’d prefer to deal directly with the writer.” He hesitated. “Or are you interested in a piece of the action?”
    “I have no interest in the action,” I said. “I’m just helping out a friend here.”
    “Whatever,” he said. “I’ll get back to you in a couple weeks. Meantime, ask—what’d you say his name was? Daniel?”
    “Daniel, yes.”
    “Tell Daniel that he and I will have some work to do. I don’t want to mess with his story, but there are some loose ends and rough spots. You might mention the rich and famous part to him, too.”
    I called Daniel as soon as I hung up from Al Coleman. I got his answering machine at the house, so I tried the shop. A male voice I didn’t recognize said, “Yo?”
    “Is Daniel there?”
    “Hang on.”
    I heard him yell, “Hey, Daniel. Phone.” There was a murmur of male voices in the background, a burst of laughter.
    A minute later Daniel said, “McCloud.”
    “It’s Brady.”
    “Yes?”
    “Daniel, I’ve found an agent who’s agreed to handle your book. He hasn’t quite finished reading it, and he wants to show it