Dear Sir or Madam, will you read my book?
It took me years to write, will you take a look?
It's based on a novel by a man named Lear
And I need a job
So I wanna be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
It's a dirty story of a dirty man
And his clinging wife doesn't understand
His son is working for the Daily Mail
It's a steady job
But he wants to be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
Paperback writer (paperback writer)
It's a thousand pages, give or take a few
I'll be writing more in a week or two
I could make it longer if you like the style
I can change it 'round
And I wanna be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
If you really like it you can have the rights
It could make a million for you overnight
If you must return it you can send it here
But I need a break
And I wanna be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
Paperback writer (paperback writer)
Paperback writer (paperback writer)
Paperback writer (paperback writer)
Paperback writer (paperback writer)
Paperback writer (paperback writer)
Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: John Lennon / Paul McCartney
Paperback Writer lyrics © Iricom US Ltd, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
d.: Cal.E., I thought that you were supposed to have your book on Meow’s desk by 0900 Zulu time today, why are you handing it to me?
C.: Because I’m going to cross the international date line and make it yesterday. That way, I’ll have plenty of time.
d.: That might work, except that it would be a day later, not yesterday.
C.: d.c., how high could I count when I came to this planet?
d.: You could only count to two, why?
C.: Because math isn’t important on my home planet. That’s my point. If I tell Meow Z. Tongue that I’m in Singapore and it’s yesterday there, he won’t be able to know that what I say isn’t true.
d.: Okay, that answers one question, but why are you handing me your manuscript?
C.: Because I need for you to edit it before I give it to Meow, and then a publisher.
d.: Be careful with publishers, Cal.E. Some will offer to publish your manuscript and do little else to get it sold to the public.
C.: Okay, just read this manuscript and tell me where to change it.
d.: Well, I can’t take my last test for this class until tomorrow, so I guess that I have a few hours to help you.
Right here, Cal.E., on page five. I think you made a typo. It says that your husband was in a comma when you met him. I think that you meant he was in a coma.
C.: No, d.c. My ex-husband slept in a comma-shaped bed. He was in it when I first saw him at the house where I ended my voyage.
d.: O-kay. Let me take a look at it. I’ll get back to you soon.
C.: (Since d.c. is a nurse, I assume that he means by the end of the day. That’s what that term means in medical jargon. But, does he mean by the time the sun goes down, or before midnight? I guess I’ll find out.)
Later that same day
d.: Okay, Cal.E., your premise is good, I just made some minor changes for you.
C.: Okay, go ahead.
d. I’ll start after my alternate beginning…
C.: No, start from the beginning, please.
d.: Okay, then, “As I was knocked to my stomach by the blast that my spaceship caused when it imploded on impact on this alien planet, I caught a glimpse of my last hope of returning to my home, my planet, and my familiar way of life disappear. I saw the red, blue and yellow flames in the reflection of the shiny building I was later to learn was a barn. As I recovered, a huge beast nuzzled me with its nose. All manner of thoughts entered my head. “Was s/he friendly, or was this planet filled with huge, brutal beasts that could chew me up, swallow me, and regurgitate me and rechew me to enter the second of its four stomachs? I arched my back and fluffed my fur, but the creature was unmoved by my antics.
The creature then spoke in a language that I’d never heard before. I didn't know if it was telling me to move, or asking a question. It nuzzled me again, and I took off running as fast as a could toward the shiny building. It was futile, though, because the field where I’d run to when my spaceship crashed was filled with the beasts. They were busy munching on the carpet that covered the field. My stomach was growling for nourishment, so I tried the lush green substance. ‘Yuck!’ I said, as I spit it out on the ground. The creatures didn’t seem to heed my warning that the carpet’s taste was undesirable. They all kept munching away, as my heart leapt into my throat. I saw a creature that looked like me, but was five times my size. He spoke my language, and we had a pleasant conversation.
‘Barney’ as he called himself, was a barn cat. He said that the large creatures were cows, and they had no desire to harm anything other than the grass they ate. (The lush green carpet under their feet.)
Barney said that he had a good job. He was a barn cat, and the job paid all the rodents he could catch and eat. Barney must have been the best at his job as a barn cat that ever lived, because his stomach protruded on both sides of his abdomen.
I told him that I was a queen on my planet, and that my husband, Tom, was the king. I told him that Tom had banished me from the planet when I ate his Rodent Prepared for a King. Since it was an election year, though, he merely banished me from the planet and the galaxy instead of beheading me, as the edict from the Supreme Ruler of the Cat Galaxy, Meow Z. Tongue, decreed. Meow agreed to this if I would send him reports from the planet that I landed on. I reasoned that he may have an ulterior motive, but I was so glad to be alive and have my whole body intact that I agreed to the terms of the deal.
Barney said that all female cats on this planet were referred to as queens, and that all male cats were called tomcats. He said that he had a good life and was satisfied with his job, unlike most of the inhabitants of the planet.
‘So,’ I thought, ‘the inhabitants of this strange planet can be generous, but they are still very primitive. Any culture that would let a cat, the most intelligent, sophisticated animal in the universe sleep outside on a bed of hay (the dried version of grass that is kept in the shiny barn so that it will keep better and be available for when the grass isn’t growing) is a primitive, cruel planet indeed. However, since I was almost starving because of my two-day journey to this strange, primitive planet, I tried the hay that made up Barney’s bed. ‘Maybe the dried version is better than the fresh version,’ I thought. NO! This was even worse, and Barney seemed quite upset with me for trying to eat his bed. After he calmed down, Barney was able to reason that I was famished, so he quickly killed a rat that was large enough for us both to have a feast.
Barney then invited me to share his bed of hay for the night, but I declined. I must, I said, get back to some semblance of civilization, if that even existed on this planet. Barney said that the closest large city was Baltimore, and he pointed me in a westward direction after wishing me well. Barney then went about his business of finding a queen to share he bed of hay for the evening.”
That’s as far as I’ve gotten, Cal.E. Maybe tomorrow we can tackle chapter two of THE CAT THAT WAS FROM OUT OF THIS WORLD, right here on Cal.E.’s Korner.
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