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The Plant. Part 20

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I can't take your call right now. If this is about billing or accounting, you need to call Andrew Lang at Apex Corporation of America. The number is 212-555-9191. Ask for the Publis.h.i.+ng Division. If you want to leave a message for me, wait for the beep. Thanks.

Jesus, Roger. Wait til you read this f.u.c.ker. Just you wait.

3:50 A.M. h.e.l.lo, you have reached Roger Wade at Zenith House.

I can't take your call right now. If this is about billing or accounting, you need to call Andrew Lang at Apex Corporation of America. The number is 212-555-9191. Ask for the Publis.h.i.+ng Division. If you want to leave a message for me, wait for the beep. Thanks.

If anyone does anything to that plant, they're going to die. You got that? They will f.u.c.king...die.



ZENITH HOUSE Ma.n.u.sCRIPT REPORT.

EDITOR: John Kenton John Kenton DATE: April 3, 1981 Ma.n.u.sCRIPT t.i.tLE: Last Survivor AUTHOR'S NAME: James Saltworthy FICTION/NONFICTION: F.

ILl.u.s.tRATIONS: N N.

AGENT: None RIGHTS OFFERED: Author offers North American but doesn't know what he's talking about, so TBD SUMMARY: This novel is set in the year 1982, but was originally written in 1977. To keep to the writer's intention, the time would have to be changed to at least 1986, 1987, or five years from time of pub.The basic premise is unique and exciting. A network fading in the ratings (auth calls it UBA, United Broadcasting of America, but it feels like CBS) comes up with a unique game show idea. Twenty-six people are stranded on a desert island, where they must survive for six months. Three trained camera operators are among the contestants. In fact each contestant has a "job" on the island, and the camera operators have to train several contestants in use of the equipment. Other contestants are "farmers," "fishers," "hunters," and so on. The idea is that each week for twenty-six weeks, the contestants as a group must vote one person off the island and into exile. First exile gets one dollar for his trouble. The second gets ten. The third gets one hundred. The fourth gets five hundred. And the last survivor gets a cool million. I know this idea sounds wonky, but Saltworthy actually makes us believe that such a program might find its way onto the air someday, if a network was desperate enough for ratings (and tasteless enough, but on network TV that has never been a problem).

What makes the story brilliant is Saltworthy's delineation of character. TV viewers see the contestants in very simple ways-the Good Young Mother, the Cheerful Athlete, the Rugged Old Fellow, the Tough But Religious Widow. Underneath, however, they are extremely complex. And one of them, a personable young truck driver named Tracy Nordstrom, is actually a dangerous psychopath who will do anything to win the million dollars. In one breathlessly orchestrated scene early in the book, he induces food-poisoning in the Rugged Old Fellow, subst.i.tuting hallucinogenic mushrooms for the harmless ones gathered by one of the farmers, a sweet exhippie who is heartbroken by her perceived mistake and actually attempts suicide (which the network covers up, as Last Survivor has become a monster hit). Ironically, Nordstrom is the most liked contestant, both by the others on the island and by the huge TV audience. (Saltworthy actually made this reader believe such a show could become a national obsession.) Only one person, Sally Stamos (the Good Young Mother), suspects how evil Tracy Nordstrom really is. Eventually Nordstrom realizes she's onto him, and sets out to silence her. Will Sally be able to convince the others what's happening? Will she ever get back to her kids?

Saltworthy builds suspense like an old pro, and I simply couldn't put the book down...or turn the pages fast enough. The novel climaxes with a huge storm that accomplishes what until then has just been a cynical TV illusion: the contestants are cut off from everything, real castaways instead of pretend ones. What we've got here is a high concept hybrid between And Then There Were None and Lord of the Flies. I don't want to put the conclusion in this summary; it needs to be read and savored in the author's own vivid prose. Let me just say that it is so shocking that all the editors who have read it so far have dropped the book like a hot potato. But it works, and I think an American reading public that could accept the supernatural horrors of Rosemary's Baby and the criminous ones of The G.o.dfather will embrace it, recommend it to their friends, and talk about it for years.

EDITORIAL RECOMMENDATION: We've got to publish this. It's the best and most commercial unpublished novel it has ever been my pleasure to read. If ever there was a book that could put a publisher on the map, this is the one. John Kenton We've got to publish this. It's the best and most commercial unpublished novel it has ever been my pleasure to read. If ever there was a book that could put a publisher on the map, this is the one. John Kenton

from THE SAKRED BOO K O F C ARLOS THE SAKRED BOO K O F C ARLOS

SAKRED MONTH OFAPRA (Entry #77)

Time has almost come. Stars and planets almost right, praise Demeter.

GOOD, as my own time is short. The traitor b.i.t.c.h Barfield disposed of,

spell worked and plane went down. No problem there, praise Abbalah,

but in the end she double-crossed me just the same. Thieving b.i.t.c.h took

my Talisman (it was an Owl's Beak actually). I have looked everywhere

but my Beak is gone. I bet she had it in her pocket when the plane went

down. Burned! Nothing but ASHES!! With my Protection gone, my

Time is short. Never mind, am tired of being Carlos anyway. Time for

next stage but first will rid myself of p.o.o.p-s.h.i.+t Kenton. I'll teach you what

rejection REALLY MEANS, you Judas! Let plant take care of rest

of them when the Innocent Blood comes.

I have been all around the neighborhood where Kenton works. All

office buildings except for small market across the street. Crazy old b.u.m

outside. Woman with a Guitar. Plays almost as bad as p.o.o.p-s.h.i.+t Kenton edits books. Ha! Thought of using her, Innocent Blood, but also

Crazy, so no good. "You can't work wood if the wood won't work" as

Mr. Keen used to tell me. Wise Man in his way.

A few other "regulars" on the street it looks like. One fellow selling

watches and etc. at a folding table. No problem but weekend would be

best. I'll find a way to get inside, best would be to follow someone who's

"pulling a little overtime." I'll sneak upstairs to their offices and just "lie

low" as they say until Monday morning. Plan to cut p.o.o.p-s.h.i.+t Kenton's

throat myself with Sakred Sacrifice Knife. Take his heart if poss. When

his blood flows down my hands I can die happy, praise Abbalah, praise

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