Glamour Profession

By Beth Meacham

Agatha sat like a stone in one of the straight plastic chairs lining the walls of the conference room, toying with the carved amethyst ring on her right hand. She could see over Meg's shoulder to the surface of the big table and read the notes her boss had jotted on the pad in front of her. "J says no--bounce RC proposal. A?" Meg was going to wimp out again, and tell Agatha to make the phone call to Robert's agent, rejecting the book. It was no wonder that Agatha was Meg's third editorial assistant in two years.

These Tuesday morning editorial meetings were torture. Jackie, the polished blonde Editor-in-Chief, would hold forth on her theories of publishing and literature, then fire rapid questions at the ten editors seated around the table, about the manuscripts they'd been given to read the week before. The books were always romances or sagas or self-help diet books. In the last fifteen minutes of the meeting, editors could propose acquisitions. Jackie would never say a simple yes or no; she would instead invite the rest of the department to comment. There were many discussions over lunch about how to judge Jackie's take on a proposal by the way she asked for comments. The trick was to ridicule the ones she didn't like, and praise the ones she did. The meeting would end just before noon with Jackie's assistant passing out manuscripts for next week's performance.

Agatha was growing very tired of Jackie's arbitrary abuse, and of her boss's spineless sucking up. She hadn't come to New York for this kind of crap. She'd come for the romance of publishing, the joy of scholarship. All her life she'd loved books, especially the big leather-bound ones in her grandmother's library, with the ancient vellum pages covered in spidery handwritten entries and spells. She'd never forgetten the thrill she'd felt the first time she read off the names of the minor demons, from safe within a circle Granny had drawn. Agatha knew, more than most people did, how a book could change someone's life. But instead of bringing important works of natural philosophy before the public, here she was in a flunky's job, working for a woman who edited thinly disguised pornography while pretending to a life of refined literary sensibility.

Having to call Meg's current lover's agent to reject his latest book proposal was the last straw. Something would have to be done.

* * * * *

Agatha leaned back in her chair and rubbed her eyes. It was nearly 8:30 PM, but she was finally done with the memo. She pulled it gently out of her typewriter. She had adapted the ritual for a charm of persuasion, and used it to make a memo; it was an interesting working, but it had taken a lot out of her. She'd leave it on Meg's desk before she left, in an envelope so that her boss would be the first to touch it. If Meg thought it was a resignation before she opened it, so much the better. Agatha patted the huge manuscript on her desk with pleasure. If everything worked, Meg would champion ARS NATURALIS, A Treatise by Mistress Cleopatra Greengage, at next week's editorial meeting.

* * * * *

Jackie shot down the idea. Meg argued with passion, Agatha had to give her that, but to no avail. The meeting ended with Jackie delicately suggesting that perhaps Meg should take some of her accrued vacation time.

* * * * *

Meg had been away for a week when Agatha felt ready to make an appointment to talk with Jackie about ARS NATURALIS. She had planned her approach carefully. She had calculated the positions of the stars to a fine degree, selected her scents and clothing and jewels with precision. A wandering imp had given Jackie a cold, and the discarded tissues had provided Agatha with stuffing for the mannequin she'd used to weave the spell-net on--much better than using stray hairs gathered in the ladies room.

Agatha entered Jackie's dimly lit office timidly, clutching the manuscript of ARS NATURALIS to her chest. Jackie smiled reassuringly, and waved her to the comfortable chair. Agatha began with a confession:

"I...I wanted you to know that the book, the non-fiction book that Meg was talking about last week--it's something I wanted to do. She was trying to help me." Agatha took a loud breath, then stumbled on. "I don't think you should..."

Jackie interrupted. "Aren't you the loyal little thing. How long have you been working here?"

"Six months, ma'am."

"Call me Jackie, honey. Everyone does." She paused. "So what's this book that's so important to you?"

"I brought a copy...I thought maybe if you looked at it you might....Here it is." Agatha pushed the manuscript into Jackie's hands, and wished she could blush. The light levels in here, though, were so low that Jackie couldn't have seen it anyway. The manuscript wasn't the original, oh no. This copy had been made on very special paper, then linked to the mannequin that was Jackie. Agatha fingered the sapphire pendant at her neck as she subvocalized the words that would activate the linkage between the manuscript and Jackie herself.

Jackie leafed through the first dozen pages, stopping at one of Mistress Greengage's delicate watercolors. "Art? Well, it is beautiful, isn't it. Expensive to produce, though." She kept turning over leaves, reading a paragraph here and there. "Nice. Nicely written." She looked up at Agatha. "This is sort of like that book Abrams did years ago, isn't it? What was it...GNOMES? FAIRIES? That was a bestseller, wasn't it?"

Agatha didn't trust herself to answer that. She nodded agreeably. Like FAIRIES indeed! Comparing this work of genius, this magnificent treatise on the Art to a bit of imaginary fluff like that. She said nothing. One of the first rules of Glamour was to let the victim rationalize the compulsion herself. As Jackie settled herself into the spell, Agatha was able to relax a little.

"Well, dear," Jackie finally said, "I'll take this home tonight and give it a read myself. I think you may be on to something after all."

* * * * *

Meg was back for the next editorial meeting. Agatha hadn't happened to mention that she'd given the manuscript of ARS NATURALIS to Jackie, so Meg was rather surprised when Jackie suggested that they all move down and make room for Agatha at the table. The room went very still as Agatha apologetically moved her chair away from the wall and the other assistants, and in between Meg and the men's action editor. Jackie announced that the house would publish ARS NATURALIS, and that Agatha would be the editor of record. "Meg, dear," Jackie said, "I hope you'll give Agatha all the support she needs on this. It's her first book, after all. You've hired a fine assistant there; she's going to go far." Meg produced a convincing smile, put her arm around Agatha's shoulders and squeezed--perhaps a little harder than strictly necessary to convey approval.

* * * * *

Agatha worked longer hours than ever for the next few months, keeping up with Meg's submissions and paperwork and filing, while making sure ARS NATURALIS stayed on track. She got a great deal of practice at charms of persuasion--when she started this, she hadn't realized that acquiring a book was only the beginning of her headaches. There were a thousand pitfalls on the way to press--dozens of people who had to be dealt with. She had to make the art director put the right cover on the book. She had to make the marketing director budget for ads in the right places. She had to convince the subrights people of the book's overseas audience. She had to make the head of sales believe that his reps could sell an art book.

She had to work a very difficult spell to give Meg the gift of tongues for her sales conference presentation of ARS NATURALIS. That worked out very nicely, in the end. Meg was applauded by the reps, reinforcing everyone's commitment to the book. At that point, the spells could have given out and the house would still have been committed to push ARS NATURALIS up the bestseller lists.

* * * * *

Six months after that, the book hit the New York Times nonfiction list one week before official publication date. Agatha raised her celebratory glass of champagne--a gift from Jackie--in a silent toast to her Granny. Granny always had had a special way with bookstore clerks, and she and her friends had been waiting a long time for this particular book to be published.

The other editorial assistants cheered Agatha as they downed their wine, while the associate editors looked on more quietly. "What I want to know," said one, "is how you convinced Jackie to let you buy the thing in the first place."

Agatha shrugged self-deprecatingly. "Magic," she said.

Everyone laughed.

/end/