Writing the Great American Novel

By Richard Reid

The main theme is to satirize the millions trying to write novels with little or no experience. A major sub-theme is a satire of the whole self-help industry that appeals to the vast audience who think they can be rich, famous and powerful via some simple and magical scheme they discovered by watching an infomercial. Other themes include the cultural gaps between generations, the great difficulty in getting bona fide works published, the serendipity of the successful, and the loneliness of the elderly that can lead to silliness. It ends with a positive theme that it is never too late to be successful.

Act I Scene 1 begins with David Belletrist, an aging widower and writer of good books with a very poor track record at selling, being convinced by Steve Fagin, a highly successful, unscrupulous self-help guru, that David can become rich by being a "Book Doctor," someone who helps others write great books for large fees, plus, perhaps, obtain a few other perks. David's first client is Sophia Witt, a young, somewhat dizzy, but very attractive wife and mother who thinks she has written the Great American Novel but can't get the industry interested in publishing it. David becomes interested for more than just the money. While David is enlisting Sophia into his services, his betrayal of the profession is emphasized by the entry of a bona fide literary writer seeking David's help who is turned off by Sophia's demeanor and the knowledge that David is becoming a charlatan. After Sophia departs, poorer by a five hundred dollar deposit, the spirit of David's wife, Sanctimonia, appears to chastise him for expending his talent in pursuit of Sophia's money and obvious specialized charm.

In Scene 2, Sophia is at home with her husband Fabian Witt and his mother Mama Witt. Her husband and mother-in-law take her to task for wasting the money, but then Sophia learns that they have been reading her book and suddenly decide that they know how to fix all the perceived problems with it. They too know how to write the Great American Novel

Act II Scene 1 is back in David's office where David goes through Sophia's pathetically funny book, pointing out problems to her that she really doesn't understand, and, at the same time, clumsily trying to seduce her. Sanctimonia is present in the office only for David and continues to try to keep him honorable with sarcasm and wit.

In Scene 2 back in the Witt household, Fabian and Sophia conduct a hilarious (I hope) dialogue in an attempt to explain how they think the novel should be changed, Fabian wanting a western flavor and Mama wanting to take it back several generations. The scene is spiced with arguments over past family problems a la the old Carol Burnett show. The scene ends with a telephone ringing.

In Scene 3, back at David's office, Sophia bursts in to announce she has sold her book for a large sum and that there is a for certain movie deal. David suffers the ultimate embarrassment as Sophia offers to help him with his work. After Sophia departs, Sanctimonia tries to console David by telling him he is still a good writer with queries still out on his latest work. She also has some female companionship lined up for him. As his spirit starts to lift, the phone rings.

Below is the script for Act I Scene 1. Any wishing to see the complete play should contact me.

Writing the Great American Novel

Act I Scene 1

Office of DAVID BELLETRIST. Sign on the desk says, DR. BELLETRIST, BOOK DOCTOR. DAVID, a disheveled, grizzled old man, is behind his desk. In front of him sits STEVE FAGIN, a slick looking middle-aged man.

BELLETRIST

My first client will be here in a few minutes and I still don't know why I'm doing this.

FAGIN

The best reason in the world, Belletrist. It's the easiest money you'll ever make. It's the gold rush of 1849 with a tenth of the effort and none of the hardship. It's gold, I tell you, lying right there on top of the ground. All you have to do is stoop over and pick it up.

BELLETRIST

I don't know, Fagin. It seems dishonest.

FAGIN

Dishonest you say. What's dishonest in selling dreams? Dreams are as honest a commodity as bread and butter, and maybe more important.

BELLETRIST

That's just it. These people are giving up food to buy their dreams.

FAGIN

So maybe they don't eat as well as they'd like. But with what you're be offering they'll have sweet thoughts to put them to sleep at night. They'll forget their empty stomachs. You give them a reason for getting out of bed in the morning. You provide the dreams they really need to keep them going. Food nourishes the body, but without dreams, the soul dies.

BELLETRIST

What makes you think people will buy this scheme...pardon me...this business you've got me into?

FAGIN

Belletrist, I make thousands for the advice I'm giving you for free.

BELLETRIST

Why?

FAGIN

Because my sainted mother was your wife's sister. She always wanted me to help you.

BELLETRIST

She always thought I was a total loser.

FAGIN

That's why she insists I help you. You wasted so much of your time writing books instead of making money. She wanted money for you—for her sister.

BELLETRIST

And now that Agnes is gone, you want this for me?

FAGIN

I promised my mother on her deathbed that you would be rich.

BELLETRIST

Where do you come up with these ideas?

FAGIN

When I was thirty and selling used cars, it hit me. Every customer wanted the best car he could buy, even if it meant hocking his wife and kids. So I asked myself, 'What does this guy really want?' I could see he wanted more than transportation. Henry Ford said, "What Americans want is to get from point A to point B sitting down." That's old coffee. This guy wants to be noticed, he wants something that gets him identified with wealth, he wants something that gives him power. There it is. Riches, fame, and power. That's what he wants.

BELLETRIST

Sure, what's wrong with that?

FAGIN

Nothing, that's what I wanted. But I said to myself, 'What's the easiest way to get there?'

BELLETRIST

Did you get an answer?

FAGIN

I got several! One way was to work like a mule and live like a monk. I didn't like that answer. Another was, 'Get lucky,' but I didn't know how to do that. Then the lightning struck. Selling dreams. It was sitting right there in front of me. I was good at selling cars. Why not sell ideas? The cheapest commodity in the universe. Ways for everyone else to get rich, famous and powerful. With what they pay me for...what shall I say, ideas maybe,...I fulfill my own dreams by becoming rich, famous and powerful. Isn't the irony of it beautiful?

BELLETRIST

But you have to have ideas. Something credible. There's not enough fools to go around.

FAGIN

Sure there are, because nothing will turn a reasonable man into a fool quicker than to sell him a get-rich-quick scheme, a way to become famous overnight, or a way to give him power over others.

BELLETRIST

So, which one did you pick?

FAGIN

I went for the whole enchilada. I provide all three. I've got a lecture tour that teaches him to be powerful. It's called The Power of Positive Persuasion. I've got a book out called, The Road to Being a Success on Television. People give $10.95 for two hundred pages that basically says go to school and study the television industry. I have a television infomercial that shows them how to buy real estate with no money and become rich in months. They all make me tons of money.

BELLETRIST

Those are no good for me. I can't sell, I can't do television, I will not do a dishonest book. I'm a writer.

FAGIN

Of course you are. I've read a few pages of one of your books. You're good. But you're not good enough. That's why I came up with the perfect scheme for you. You help other writers become good, like you. Let them believe they'll be good enough to become rich and famous.

BELLETRIST

I don't believe you can teach creative writing. It's just something you can do or you can't.

FAGIN

What's that got to do with anything? This is not about teaching; it's about making money. Listen, in the heart of every soul in this country there lies the belief that, given the chance, and just a little help, they can write the Great American Novel. Computers made that possible. With only typewriters, writing was too hard. Now anyone with a PC can write the Great American Novel in a few weeks. They've always felt they had the ideas, now they have the easy means. They just need a little help getting it into the computer. For the Great American Novel, the help doesn't come cheap.

BELLETRIST

I don't believe I can make THE GREAT GATSBY out of drivel.

FAGIN

Of course you can't. No one can. But what you can do is tell them they don't yet have the Great American Novel, and you keep sending them back for rewrites until they do. And each session you collect a nice fee. It's the Great American Money Cow.

BELLETRIST

There are plenty of crooks,...I mean people, doing that.

FAGIN

Read the tea leaves, Belletrist, and the newspapers. There are hundreds of agents and publishers who say they get thousands of manuscripts and queries about manuscripts each week. They accept a tiny fraction. What are the rest of the folks supposed to do, give up their dreams?

BELLETRIST

If they have the call, they keep writing. Otherwise they need to get a real job.

FAGIN

That's not their dream. And they have money. Granted, most of the money is plastic, but it all spends. You need to get in the money chain.

BELLETRIST

Life is not completely about money.

FAGIN

Of course it's not. It's about what money can buy.

BELLETRIST

I hate cliches, but it can't buy happiness.

FAGIN

Belletrist, you've been a widower too long.

BELLETRIST

That's true.

FAGIN

Then think, man. Think about the publishing business. Over sixty percent of writers, agents, and publishers are women. You're in a dreamland industry for old guys who are widowers.

BELLETRIST

True. And I wouldn't mind meeting a nice elderly lady interested in writing.

FAGIN

Wrong. Your thinking is all wrong. What you want to meet is a buxom late-twenties, early-thirties lady who is desperate to be a novelist.

BELLETRIST

Fagin, sell your dreams to someone else. Those kinds of dreams are gone, like a leaf blowing in the wind.

FAGIN

It can happen. Just the other day...

There is a knock at the door. BELLETRIST looks at the door startled, nervous. FAGIN gives him a thumbs up and moves and opens the door. Standing there is SOPHIE WITT, a voluptuous young blonde woman in a tight-fitting, low-cut dress. She smiles engagingly at FAGIN. She clutches a manuscript under one arm.

SOPHIE

Dr. Bel-le-trisk?

FAGIN

(leering) I wish I was. But, no. (pointing to BELLETRIST rising from behind his desk) There is the famous writer.

SOPHIE, now frowning, somewhat disarmed at wasting her smile on the stranger, approaches the desk, her smile returning, extending her hand, as FAGIN closes the door, grinning.

FAGIN

(smiling) See, doctor. Dreams can come true. I'll stop by later to see how things are going.

SOPHIE

Dr. Bel-le-trisk?

DR. Belletrist looks up with a lottery-winning smile on his face.

BELLETRIST

It's Bell-e-trist. With a T not a K. And you would be?

SOPHIE

Nouveau Dawn. I called for an appointment. You said two o'clock would be fine.

BELLETRIST

Yes! Yes! Have a seat, Nouveau Dawn. Is it Miss or Mrs?

SOPHIE

Actually it's Mrs. Witt. SOPHIE Witt. Nouveau Dawn is my pen name. It's French, you know. Fabian, that's my husband, thinks it's kind of cute. Fabian and me go way back. We've been married four years last week. I met him back in Sealy High School, you know just west of Katy? We dated a little bit and, well, one thing led to another and we had to get married. First it was little Destiny, and then Fabian Junior came along nine months later. I swear I hardly made it out the door of the hospital when Fabian...

BELLETRIST

Of course. Of course. Now you said you had an important book you wanted to talk with me about.

SOPHIE

Why yes. How nice of you to remember.

BELLETRIST

Tell me about this book you've written.

SOPHIE

It's this marvelous story I've had in my head since junior high school. It well may be the second greatest story ever told...the Bible of course is the best, but I could never put myself in with God and all those prophets and all. That just wouldn't be right, would it? Anyway, like six weeks ago, my twenty-first birthday to be exact, I finally began getting the story out of my head and on paper. I bought a book that told me how to type it on the computer so all those agents and editors in New York can read it. It's four hundred pages, double-spaced, with one-inch margins all round, just like they say in the book. I don't know how I managed writing so much with two rug rats running around, and my husband always busy. He's a carpenter, finish carpenter. He does cabinets and that sort of thing. His work is beautiful...

BELLETRIST

Yes, that's all wonderful, but the book, what about the book? What's the story? Give me a synopsis.

SOPHIE

A what?

BELLETRIST

You know, a summary of the story, the characters, what's the conflict, how the plot is developed, what's the denouement?

SOPHIE

D-NU what?

BELLETRIST

The end of the story. The climax. The place where all is revealed.

SOPHIE

Oh! Sure. Of course. It has that D-NU thing and the rest of the rest of those things.

BELLETRIST

OK! Tell me the story. But be very brief.

SOPHIE

It's kind of hard to briefly tell the story. It took me almost six weeks to write.

BELLETRIST

OK! Let's start with who the characters are. Tell me about them.

SOPHIE

Oh, that's easy. There is the main character, Jade, a lovely girl. A little mixed up with the drugs, but nothing serious. All the rest of the characters are shape-shifters.

BELLETRIST

Shapeshifters?

SOPHIE

Yes, you know. People who are,...well people. Then they change into birds, or other animals. And, of course, the other way around.

BELLETRIST

(treating SOPHIE as a fellow writer) Oh, a venture into the realm of Magical Realism, like Marquez with One Hundred Years of Solitude, or perhaps Allende in her wonderful book The House of Spirits. Is that what you write?

SOPHIE

(flustered) Well, I don't know about those people, but my characters change from people into frogs, and...

BELLETRIST

Oh, I see. Like Kafka. You know, where a man wakes up one morning and he is a cockroach.

SOPHIE

OH, MY GOD. What sick person wrote that kind of book.

BELLETRIST

Really it's a very famous story.

SOPHIE

Maybe for lunatics.

BELLETRIST

(now suspicious of her credentials) So what do your characters do?

SOPHIE

Well it's all very serious. You know how frogs turn into princes when someone kisses them.

BELLETRIST

A children's book. That's what you've written. I won't...er...I mean, I can't really help you with children's books.

SOPHIE

Certainly not. I have here a very serious novel...for adults.

BELLETRIST

(still trying to be serious) Ah, you write in the romance genre, with a shape-shifter sub specialty?

SOPHIE

(intimidated) I suppose.

BELLETRIST

Tell me, do those kinds of books sell well?

SOPHIE

Well, really. What closet have you been hiding in? It's what all my friends read.

BELLETRIST

(exasperated) Yes, but do they sell to anyone outside of your friends?

SOPHIE

(regaining her composure) Dr. Belletrist. Your magazine ad says you are a book doctor. That you fix books so that they become best sellers. How can you fix books if you don't even read best sellers?

BELLETRIST

Yes, of course. It's just that I'm more used to normal fiction.

SOPHIE lays the manuscript on his desk.

SOPHIE

Well fix it.

BELLETRIST

(suspiciously) It costs money, sometimes lots of money. Are you sure you can afford it?

SOPHIE

How much money?

BELLETRIST

That depends on how much work I have to do.

SOPHIE

Like exactly what do you do?

BELLETRIST

First, I scan the book for proper format. From looking at you I can tell it's in great shape. Then we get together and go over my comments. Things like, is it proper form for a publisher? Are the characters believable? Who is the point-of-view character? Does the story suspend disbelief? Is there a good hook? Is...

SOPHIE

Excuse me, what's a hook? It's a book not a fishing pole.

BELLETRIST

You know, does the first paragraph, or page, or chapter draw people into the story?

SOPHIE

Oh, (embarrassed) that's no problem. I already told you it's a wonderful story.

BELLETRIST

I'm sure it is, but sometimes I can help with that.

SOPHIE

Of course, I guess it could always be improved. After all, I'm here because some people think it could be improved.

BELLETRIST

So, you have shown it to some people?

SOPHIE

Yes, as a matter of fact, I sent it to twenty literary agents, and twelve publishers.

BELLETRIST

And?

SOPHIE

All eleven publishers sent it back unopened, and all of the agents said they weren't taking on new writers at this time I haven't heard from the twelfth publisher, so I think they may be interested. One agent wrote me a nice letter. Said I should see a book doctor. Gave me a name, but when I called him in New York, we talked awhile, and he said he didn't think he could help. He said maybe I should get someone local.

BELLETRIST

So how did you find me?

SOPHIE

Actually it was my brother, Charlie. He really liked the book too. He likes to write poetry and subscribes to one of those writer's magazines. He's the one that saw your ad in the magazine, and I felt like I was really lucky. Here I am, writing my novel, and a magazine just pops open and gives me your name, right here in my home town, to help me get it published.

BELLETRIST thumbs through a few pages of the manuscript.

BELLETRIST

Well, this may take some time. I can see there may be quite a lot of work to do here. Are you prepared to spend the time, and of course the money.

SOPHIE

I can get the money...How much.

BELLETRIST

(growing real interested) Well, one read-through with comments, written of course, runs five hundred dollars. After that it generally runs three to five hundred for each rewrite.

SOPHIE

You mean there is usually more than one?

BELLETRIST

It can become a somewhat complicated process. The first time I read your manuscript, I just point out format errors and make a few suggestions. Then you go off and fix them. Then I look at the second draft. This time I make suggestions that will make your book interesting to agents and publishers.

SOPHIE

Why can't you do all of that the first time?

BELLETRIST

Well, then I'd be writing the book for you, wouldn't I? You see that's why I'm a book doctor. Just like a medical doctor, it takes several visits to get things right.

SOPHIE

Oh, you mean like when I had that STD and had to take all those shots?

BELLETRIST

What's STD?

SOPHIE

Dr. BELLETRIST, you're a doctor. You should know these things. STD is Sexually Transmitted Disease.

BELLETRIST

(befuddled) Yes! I guess it's something like that.

SOPHIE reaches into her purse and pulls out five one hundred dollars bills and lays them on top of the manuscript.

SOPHIE

Well I'll take one dose and I guess we'll see how it goes. And make sure it has the D-NU thing in it.

BELLETRIST fingers the money, grinning, opens the desk drawer and drop the money in. Then he picks up the manuscript and flips through the pages.

BELLETRIST

Now you must understand that this is only the beginning. It usually takes several read-throughs to get the book in really good shape.

SOPHIE fingers her purse and eyes the drawer where he put her money.

SOPHIE

Fabian doesn't know I took that money from our savings. He'd be plenty mad if he finds it's gone. But I know he'll thank me when the book makes the bestseller's list...You have helped put others on the bestseller list, haven't you?

BELLETRIST

Oh sure. Just this morning I was on the phone with Philip Roth, helping him on his new book.

SOPHIE

Who's he?

BELLETRIST

Why he's America's greatest living writer. His books sell millions.

SOPHIE reaches a hand to Dr. BELLETRIST and grabs his sleeve.

SOPHIE

Dr. Belletrist, can you do that for me? I mean this is very important to me. It's like the most important thing in my life. I would do anything to see this book in print. Without this my life is worthless.

BELLETRIST comes around the desk and puts his arm around SOPHIE.

BELLETRIST

There are no guarantees in life, but with proper motivation, I can come very close to that.

SOPHIE pats his hand on her shoulder, smiles demurely.

SOPHIE

I guess we got ourselves a deal.

BELLETRIST

Well, first I need to get some information. I have a couple of forms for you to fill out. One that giveS me some personal information, and a second that helps me understand the real meaning of your book.

BELLETRIST steps back around his desk and extracts papers from a drawer, handing them to SOPHIE.

BELLETRIST

Now, SOPHIE, if you'll just take these forms over to the table their in the corner and fill them out, I'll look them over, and your book will be in good hands.

SOPHIE takes the papers, picks up a desk pen from the set on BELLETRIST'S desk and retreats to the corner table, while BELLETRIST returns to his computer.

As BELLETRIST turns his attention to the computer screen, his dead wife, AGNES, spirit name, SANCTIMONIA, appears at his side.

SANCTIMONIA

David Belletrist, will you give me no peace in my grave? Must I continue to watch out for you to the day you die?

BELLETRIST, annoyed, continues his stare at the computer screen.

BELLETRIST

Agnes, my dear, deceased wife, must you continue to meddle in my affairs even after departure?

SANCTIMONIA

Yes, it's my duty, and please use my spirit name, Sanctimonia.

BELLETRIST

It suits you.

SANCTIMONIA

And you are the better for it.

BELLETRIST

Why can't you stay dead like other good wives? You continue to interfere in my business. Weren't forty married years enough for you?

SANCTIMONIA

Some dead people vote; I choose to continue to monitor your affairs.

BELLETRIST

My affairs are finally my own business now.

SANCTIMONIA

Not when you begin to connive and cheat people. What kind of scheme are you getting involved in?

BELLETRIST

Am I the only one with a dead wife still correcting him?

SANCTIMONIA

I suspect that if you ask around, you'll find quite a few husbands are still being tutored by dead wives. We never give up striving for perfection.

BELLETRIST

I am merely helping that young girl in the corner write the Great American Novel. Since your last visit I've become a book doctor. I fix the problems writers have with their books.

SANCTIMONIA

Belletrist, you are a writer. A dedicated writer. Not very successful, but at least you are honest. Don't change that at this late stage of your life. Honesty is all you have.

BELLETRIST

This is honest. What I'm doing is helping that girl become successful, achieve her dreams.

SANCTIMONIA

What you are doing is taking that girl's money on false pretenses.

BELLETRIST

Pretenses yes, but false no.

SANCTIMONIA

That girl is giving you money because she thinks you're a great writer, and that you can make her one.

BELLETRIST

Right on both counts.

SANCTIMONIA

I can't seem to remember your books earning the price of a loaf of bread. Now that I'm gone you're trying to steal enough money to do all the things I wanted to do—travel, have steaks once a month.

BELLETRIST

It's not stealing. It's capitalism, free enterprise. Your nephew taught me how to make money.

SANCTIMONIA

My nephew is a sneaking, lying, conniving con man.

BELLETRIST

You should add that he is a very rich con man.

SANCTIMONIA

It sounds like you want the capital without the enterprise.

SOPHIE in the corner questioningly scratches her head with the pen, staring at the paper in front of her, unaware of any conversation in the office. She glances at BELLETRIST.

SOPHIE

Dr. Belletrist, what do you mean, 'What motivated me to write this book?' I just had to do it. It's something in my soul.

BELLETRIST

That's fine, my dear. Just put that down.

SANCTIMONIA

David, this is criminal. That girl doesn't know a noun from a verb, and she thinks you're going to make her a published author?

BELLETRIST

Grammar isn't everything.

SANCTIMONIOUS

She doesn't know a book plot from a burial plot.

BELLETRIST

Plot is over-rated.

SANCTIMONIA

She doesn't know the difference between a character in a novel and a hieroglyphic.

SOPHIE

Dr. Belletrist, would rap music be favorite poetry?

BELLETRIST

Of course, my dear. It does contain words...I think.

SOPHIE looks quizzically at BELLETRIST but continues her work on the forms.

SANCTIMONIA

David, don't do this, don't encourage this girl. Tell her to get a real job. Forget this foolishness.

BELLETRIST

That's always been your problem, Sanctimonia. You always wanted everyone to live in the real world. This girl has dreams. I had dreams. Mine never came true. Maybe I can help with hers.

SANCTIMONIA

It doesn't work that way, David. Each of us has to find our dreams on our own. There is no easy path to them. You have to make them happen by yourself.

BELLETRIST

I can help. I wrote eleven books. I now know the best way to go about it. No price can be put on my experience. She is getting a bargain.

SANCTIMONIA

Think back, David. Remember. Only two were published, and they made us very little money. I'm not complaining, we had a good life, but I worked for forty years at that crummy job in that crummy office to keep food on the table.

BELLETRIST

But they were all good books. And I still have that one book under consideration by Random House.

SANCTIMONIA

Yes, I believe they were, but you never got the break. Too bad, that's life. Get over it. Move on. But don't give up. You can still write. Random House might come through with an offer.

BELLETRIST

I can do well as a book doctor. I can make a nice living.

SANCTIMONIA

People like that are parasites. They're perfect examples of 'If you can't do it yourself, teach others to do it.' You feed off the dreams and aspirations of others. You create nothing yourself. You can't help these people, if they can't find it within themselves. You only prolong their failure, their misery.

BELLETRIST

Sanctimonia, that's what life is all about. It all ends with the ultimate failure, death. But you have to try to enjoy the ride. Give them some hope that there is some meaning out there. Give them some dream to follow.

SANCTIMONIA

Not an utterly hopeless dream. Let them dream about winning the lottery, winning an Olympic gold medal, winning a Nobel Prize in physics, but not writing a good book; that's too hard.

BELLETRIST

Go away, Sanctimonia, death hasn't softened you in any way. I thought decay of the flesh would make you soft, but it has only hardened you to stone. Let me have the money, let the girl have her dreams.

SOPHIE

Dr. Belletrist, do you spell imagination with one em or two?

BELLETRIST

One.

SANCTIMONIA

David, give the girl her money back. Tell her to invest four hundred fifty of it in the stock market. Tell her to take the other fifty and buy a good dictionary.

BELLETRIST

I can't do it, Sanctimonia. This one is just too good. I feel like this woman will indeed write the Great American Novel.

SACTIMONIA

David, there are three hundred million people in this country, and at any instant of time, ten million of them are writing the Great American Novel, including children and infants. Most haven't gotten beyond page two.

BELLETRIST looks over at SOPHIE puzzling over the papers in front of her. She has his desk pen stuck in her mouth, then she stretches her arms over her head, thrusting out her considerable bosom.

BELLETRIST

I somehow believe in this one.

SACTIMONIOUS folds her arms across her chest and stares sternly at BELLETRIST.

SACTIMONIA

Why you old lecher, it's not just the money, is it?

BELLETRIST

Of course not. It's partly the intellectual challenge. The quiet reward of seeing a great talent succeed. The emotional satisfaction of giving a helping hand.

SANCTIMONIA

And the sexual gratification a licentious old man gets from seducing a young girl.

BELLETRIST

Sanctimonia, how dare you question my motives?

SANCTIMONIA

I know your motives like I know the writing on my gravestone. I lived with you for forty years.

BELLETRIST

If that were one of my possible motives, so what?

SANCTIMONIA

David. You're several generations apart. You have nothing in common.

BELLETRIST

We have the most important thing in common.

SANCTIMONIA

What would that be?

BELLETRIST

She's a woman and I'm a man.

SANCTIMONIA

You're a wizened old man...old enough to be her grandfather. You're ugly. You smell bad. Your flatulence is disgusting. You sag in all the wrong places. Your breath is garlicky. Your missing teeth show when you put on that ridiculous smile. You have disgusting ear and nose hair. And your feet stink.

BELLETRIST

After forty years, now you tell me all the things that made you love me.

SANCTIMONIA

Yes, I did love you. You weren't always that way. You once were a handsome young man that swept me off my feet. You were perfection...well, almost...but I made you close to that by the end of the first year. Those other things are what you grew into, despite my efforts to keep them from happening. They came to me slowly, tolerably. You can't put that on a young girl all at once. It's just too much.

BELLETRIST

Then there's nothing for you to worry about. Go back to your coffin and rest.

SANCTIMONIA

Lord knows I need the rest, but I'd be miserable knowing you're out here making a fool of yourself, or worse yet, making a fool of someone else.

BELLETRIST

Who would that someone else be?

SANCTIMONIA

That girl. She's a flirt. But worse, she wants something real bad. A woman who wants something real bad generally knows how to get it.

SOPHIE gets up from the corner desk and comes over to the desk of BELLETRIST, leans over, her face close to BELLETRIST, considerable cleavage showing.

SOPHIE

Dr. Belletrist, after I get my book published, do you think I'll get to be on the Oprah Winfrey show?

BELLETRIST puts on his glasses, staring more closely at the cleavage.

BELLETRIST

Quite possibly, my dear.

SOPHIE

That would be just so...so cool.

SOPHIE dances happily back to the corner table.

SANCTIMONIA

That's it! That's it! The girl doesn't want to write the Great American Novel, she wants to be on television. The true measure of success for anyone under forty.

BELLETRIST

NO! NO! The girl has creative desires. This is the most important thing in her life. I need to help her.

SANCTIMONIA sits down dejectedly.

SANCTIMONIA

Now that I'm dead, I understand your thoughts much better. It's truly not the money. It's not the possibility of an encounter with a young woman. You're just lonely. You want company. I'm sorry I died on you.

BELLETRIST

Getting old is horrible, Sanctimonia. When you were here, there were always possibilities. There never was a time when I couldn't dream dreams. Never a point where I couldn't imagine some way for us to have a grand success. Not just me, but us. It was for both of us that I wrote eleven books. I don't want to quit thinking about success. I can't dream anymore, but I can be part of her dream. Just maybe it will happen. Of course, an encounter, as you put it, would be a large bonus.

SANCTIMONIA

You're a writer, David. You're supposed to know people. You've got to know this girl is a hopeless case.

BELLETRIST

I don't know. Have you read any romance novels lately? Read any John Grisham? Read any Michael Creighton? These people can't write a decent five word sentence.

SANCTIMONIA

She wants to write the Great American Novel. James, Fitzgerald, Hemingway, Roth.

BELLETRIST

Well her dreams may be a bit of a reach. But just maybe she gets published, sells three books, and appears on some small town talk show about her book. That would be magic for her. She would be eternally grateful to me.

SANCTIMONIA

And what would that do for your dreams? You'd get some much needed company, but in the end it would just be a bitter feeling to see what you had missed.

BELLETRIST

Go away, Sanctimonia. This is all I have left.

SANCTIMONIA retreats to a corner and sullenly sits down.

Another knock on the door. The knock alerts SOPHIE.

SOPHIE

Dr. BELLETRIST, do you have another appointment? Is my time up?

BELLETRIST

No! No! Let me see who it is. I'll just be a minute, then we can continue...Come n! It's open!

FAGIN enters slowly, grinning devilishly and glancing at SOPHIE in the corner. He takes a seat next to BELLETRIST and gets close in his ear so SOPHIE can't hear.

FAGIN

What'd I tell you? Ain't she a peach? Why don't you ask her if she would like to invest in some land in Florida?

BELLETRIST

I don't know, Fagin. (glancing at SOPHIE in the corner who is trying to hear what they're saying) She doesn't seem to be the literary type.

FAGIN

But she's the perfect type.

BELLETRIST

In what way?

FAGIN

She has big dreams. But most important, she has money and a great body.

BELLETRIST

You've been listening at the door.

FAGIN

Well, I did overhear a little part of the conversation.

BELLETRIST

My wife was right. You're a scoundrel.

FAGIN

When did she say that?

BELLETRIST

Just a few minutes ago.

FAGIN

Your wife has been dead for over two years.

BELLETRIST

Well, she still kind of looks after me. She thinks it's her duty.

FAGIN

BELLETRIST, I'm not sure you're the right person for SOPHIE. Maybe I'd better talk with her.

At this moment there is another knock on the door, and a young geeky looking man, JAMES HENRY, opens and peeks in the door, enters tentatively, carrying a manuscript under his arm.

JAMES

May I come in?

FAGIN

Belletrist, you take care of this guy while I talk with SOPHIE.

FAGIN goes over to the corner at sits down with SOPHIE with a big leer on his face.

BELLETRIST

Come in young man. What can I do for you?

JAMES takes a seat and gently sets the manuscript on the desk.

JAMES

Dr. Belletrist, my name is James Henry, and I have worked on this for five years, and I now think it's ready. I just wanted to pay you for a read-through before I put it up for sale.

BELLETRIST

Fine, Mr. Henry. Is this your first novel?

JAMES

Actually I've written three others, but they were not very good. I believe this one has real merit.

BELLETRIST

So you have a background as a writer?

JAMES

Not entirely. My background is in philosophy, but I also have a degree in humanities. And I've written several stories.

BELLETRIST

Published anything?

JAMES

The New Yorker took one of my stories several years ago, and I have several in literary journals. One was a finalist for the O'Henry award.

BELLETRIST

What's your book about?

JAMES

The main theme is my attempt to explore man's relationship with God, and the real meaning of life. It has some sub themes concerning Mill's social compact, Nietzsche's will to power, and some of the ideas explored in the Dante trilogy.

BELLETRIST

Very ambitious. What characters are used to achieve this?

JAMES

There are three main characters. One is a homeless man whose wonderful life as a university professor has been wrecked by publicly announcing he is gay. Another is an exceedingly rich corporate robber baron whoes great goal is taking over a giant international corporation, but doing so will mean the destruction of his daughter's career. And the third main character is the first woman about to be nominated for the presidency, but she is concealing the fact that she is a devoted communist.

BELLETRIST

How does the plot handle all of this?

JAMES

Their paths eventually cross when the homeless man discovers the woman's true beliefs, and threatens to expose her, but the corporate giant steps in to attempt a coverup and guarantee her election with his money.

In the corner of the room, SOPHIE has stopped filling out her forms and, with mouth agape, is hanging onto every word of the conversation between BELLETRIST and JAMES despite Fabin's attempts to get her attention.

BELLETRIST

Why did you come to me?

JAMES

I've read the two books you've published. They're good. Very good. Your story in The Darkness Reveals All about the young man's journey in discovering his salvation through the devotion of his blind daughter is Homeric in stature. Truly one of the great unrecognized novels on the American scene.

In the corner FAGIN is trying mightily to engage SOPHIE, but she keeps looking over her shoulder, trying to hear the conversation between JAMES and BELLETRIST.

BELLETRIST

Thank you, James. I just wish that it had sold better.

JAMES

Mr. Belletrist, selling books is for the marketing department. Writing books is for artists. The two have no correlation whatsoever.

SOPHIE rises from her chair, ignoring FAGIN, and slowly approaches the two conversing men. She is now next to JAMES.

SOPHIE

Mr. Henry, I'm Nouveau Dawn. I'm a writer too, and I think you must be a very great one.

JAMES turns, a bit startled by her appearance.

JAMES

Nice of you to say so, Miss Dawn, but I don't understand why you say that.

SOPHIE

What you just said your book was about, the characters, the plot, all of that. It just sounded brilliant.

JAMES

Don't be too quick to judge, Miss Dawn. You've heard but a few words; a novel is a hundred thousand words. There is a great deal of difference between having an idea for a novel and writing one.

SOPHIE

I know just what you mean. Why, I was telling my sister just the other day, she's younger than me, that Dr. Belletrist here was going to help me write this great book. You know what she said?

JAMES

I have no idea.

SOPHIE

Why, she said, "Sophie, you can talk the talk, but can you walk the walk?"

JAMES

Very profound.

SOPHIE

Yeah, well whether that's profound or not I don't know. I do know that I first heard it in the movies about ten years ago. I think that Julia Roberts said it to her boyfriend, or something like that. She don't ever say anything original.

SOPHIE looks at BELLETRIST, who is hanging his head in a very embarrassed way. SANCTIMONIA in the corner is roaring with laughter.

SOPHIE

Dr. Belletrist, since James here, and me, are clients of yours, maybe we should just all get together, and you could teach the both of us at the same time.

BELLETRIST

Sophie, Mr. Henry and I are discussing his book. I would really rather that you not interfere. Your situation is very different from his.

SOPHIE

(hurt) I just thought that maybe your rate might be cheaper if it were the two of us. You know, for those first drafts.

BELLETRIST

Not even remotely possible. There are just too many differences. Please just complete the forms. I'll be with you in a few moments.

SOPHIE sulks back to the corner, glaring at BELLETRIST. SANCTIMONIA is still choked up with laughter. FAGIN attempts to reengage SOPHIE in conversation, but she continues to pout.

JAMES

What was that all about?

BELLETRIST

It's just a young woman that I'm trying to help with a book she thinks can be sold.

JAMES

So you're trying to help sell books?

BELLETRIST

Not exactly. I'm just helping with her writing. Trying to correct a few mistakes here and there.

JAMES

Does that have anything to do with your sign on the door, Book Doctor?

BELLETRIST

In a way. You see my books haven't sold well, and I pick up some loose change helping writers who are having a struggle with their work.

JAMES

(stiffly) I see. I have heard of these book doctors, but I thought 'Surely not BELLETRIST,' he's too good. I thought that maybe the sign on your door was humorous, you use so much of it in your books.

BELLETRIST

It's just temporary, of course. Random House has my latest book under review right now. As soon as it sells, I'll be back on my feet as a writer.

JAMES clutches his manuscript tightly, and rises.

JAMES

Perhaps it's best if I contact you after you're back on your feet as a writer.

SOPHIE is trying very hard to listen to the conversation, ignoring FAGIN's advances.

BELLETRIST

No, no, James. I would really like to read your book. (Quietly) Of course there would be no charge for you. It would be an honor. I'd like to see how you pull off your story.

JAMES

I appreciate the offer, but that won't be necessary, Mr. Belletrist. I think you have your hands full right now with Miss Nouveau Dawn.

BELLETRIST

Her name is really Sophie Witt. I know her ladder is a little short, but she is just a way to pass the time. I would really like to do something challenging.

JAMES

Well, after you have had your pastime, maybe you should contact me.

JAMES departs, SANCTIMONIA is still laughing, and SOPHIE approaches the desk in a huff, FAGIN following behind. She throws the forms down on the desk.

SOPHIE

I finished these things. Now I want to know what you told that fella that just left.

BELLETRIST

It's no concern of yours, Sophie.

SOPHIE

It sure is when I think I heard you tell him you weren't going to charge him for your work.

BELLETRIST picks up the forms, nervously examining them.

BELLETRIST

No, no, sweet young lady. What you heard was that there would be the customary charge.

SOPHIE

(suspiciously) I don't care if his book has characters with names like Neatsee and Danny in it. The price ought to be the same.

BELLETRIST

It is.

FAGIN

SOPHIE, my dear, maybe I could help you out if the good doctor here is not satisfying your needs.

SOPHIE turns to FAGIN.

SOPHIE

Do you write books?

FAGIN

No, but I do many other things that make people rich, famous and powerful.

SOPHIE

But you don't write books?

FAGIN

No, but I could probably help you with yours.

BELLETRIST

Fagin, would you excuse us please. You've been very helpful, but now please go away.

FAGIN shrugs his shoulders and leaves.

SOPHIE

(sweetly) That man's kind of strange. He just met me and wanted to take me to lunch. After all I'm a married woman...Can he really make me rich and famous?

BELLETRIST

I don't think that's what he has in mind, my dear. Let's get back to your book.

SOPHIE

Oh yes. (back to an angry mood) Did you charge that Philip Roach fella when he called you for advice?

BELLETRIST

That was just a courtesy call. Just an informal chat.

SOPHIE

Do I get those too?

BELLETRIST comes around the desk and puts his arm around SOPHIE.

BELLETRIST

Now Sophie, I'm going to take very good care of you, for a very good price. I'll try to make it so that your money is not the main issue with me.

SOPHIE turns and gazes seductively into his eyes.

SOPHIE

Oh, Dr. Belletrist, I'll do anything to get this book out there to the public. They deserve it.

BELLETRIST

I'm sure they do, my dear. Now you run along and I'll be in touch in a few days.

BELLETRIST pats her ginerly on the head as she leaves. She laughs and dances out the door. He jauntily returns to his desk only to find SANCTIMONIA at his side.

SANCTIMONIA

You could have been part of something great with that James Henry fella, if you weren't more short-sighted than that thing-a-ma-jiggy in your pants.

BELLETRIST

That man didn't need my help. He'll get where he's going all by himself.

SANCTIMONIA

And you think you're going to help that sorry excuse for a noun that just left?

BELLETRIST

Let's just say that we're going to help each other.

SANCTIMONIA

I understand how you think she'll help you, but how are you gong to help her?

BELLETRIST

She'll end up with a book that she'll be proud of.

SANCTIMONIA

She'll be the only one.

BELLETRIST

We'll both be the better for the effort.

SANCTIMONIA

BELLETRIST, you are a poster boy for that saying, 'There's no fool like an old fool.'

BELLETRIST

Sanctimonia, in a few short years I'll be lying next to you in that cold earth. Then you'll have eternity to nag me about being a fool. In the meantime, this old fool is going to enjoy himself.

CURTAIN