My husband heard on NPR the other day that there are 200 million insects for every human on the planet.
"Just suppose," says he, "That they all got wise, and that they decided to gang up on us. It would be 200 million to one!"
I thought about this, and said, "Yes, even 200 million butterflies would win against one frail human. They could all flap their wings in unison. What about 200 million blackflies or mosquitoes? What if they decided to fight us? They would win!"
"Who said anything about fighting?" said my husband. "All they'd have to do is sit on us."
You see now why I have an anxiety disorder.
I thought, "What a great idea for a new book!" so I wrote one immediately.
My new book THE INSECTS SAT ON US is a YA Paranormal Romance, in which our heroine Brittanee meets Jordan, a football player, but their romance is ruined when they are both sat upon by aphids, earwigs, and termites. It is complete at 32,345 words, which is as far as I got before I was sat upon by a cloud of moths, who ruined my typing skills. I am sending it to you, agent, who are now likely being sat upon by locusts and boll weevils. I don't expect a response, but if you should reach out to some editors you know before they, too, are sat upon by mites and beetles, this book may yet stop the plague which is now upon us.
THE INSECTS SAT ON US is like a cross between ARE YOU THERE, GOD? IT'S ME MARGARET and THE BIBLE. And maybe with a bit of LITTLE HOUSE ON THE PRAIRIE and TWILIGHT and some Kafka and Dante thrown into the mix. It would be best to accept this book because I think now that the insects have become my friends, and will sit on those who spurn me. They will sit with alacrity! They will sit with their antennae fierce and erect! Do not cross them.
Respectfully and now totally controlled by insects, who are cooking my supper and braiding my hair,
The Party Pony