A couple of months later, I got another phone call from my agent, Joshua “Finagler” Finkle. He sounded unusually…well, friendly, and I immediately bristled with suspicion when he cheerfully asked me how things were going.
“I did as you suggested,” I cautiously told him. “I stripped completely naked at the corner of Yonge and Bloor at noon while singing “Give Peace a Chance” and autographing copies of the book.”
“How did it go?” Josh asked.
“I had pneumonia for three weeks,” I bitterly told him.
“Hmm…I guess it would have been smarter to wait until spring…”
I grew angry. It doesn’t take me long to grow angry when I talk to Josh. “You said we couldn’t wait!” I shouted into the receiver. “You said that I needed the publicity right away!”
Josh sounded a little confused, the closest he actually comes to being apologetic. “Yeah, well, never mind that now. How did it go?”
“Terrible…”
“You didn’t sell any books?”
“Nobody stopped to look! I knew I was putting my ego on the line when I became a writer, but I never imagined -“
Josh cut me off. “How did the press react?”
“They giggled. A lot.”
“Umm, well, don’t dwell on past failures,” Josh advised. “You’ll only hurt yourself. Listen, how would you like to move to another country for a few months, maybe a year?”
This mollified me somewhat. “Where?” I asked.
“It’s warm all year round, and the cost of living is so low that even a nobody like you can afford it.”
I ignored the editorializing. “Where?”
“They’re starved for culture,” Josh continued, “and the climate is probably very good for your asthma…”
“Okay! Enough selling, already! Where do you want me to go?”
“It will be great for your career…”
Some people have to quarterback a conversation, directing it in the ways they want it to travel. Josh is like that. With a sigh, I decided to let him call the plays. “Oh? How?”
I could hear him rubbing his hands in gleeful anticipation of a concept well sold. “Well,” he explained, “you know that Canadians don’t really appreciate their own great artists. There’s something in the national character that makes Canadians distrust their own judgments about native works of art; people from other countries have to enjoy them before they are accepted by us. I’m sure you’ve heard stories about famous Canadian musicians, writers and actors who were ignored until they made it big somewhere else…”
I considered this for a moment. “Do you really think becoming recognized in another county will help my career in Canada?”
“I guarantee it! If you’re gone for a couple of years, it could add a hundred thousand units to your sales. If you’re gone for over 10 years, I’ll be able to get you a six book deal with a possible movie tie-in. If you don’t ever come back, not only can you become wealthy beyond your wildest dreams, but you’ll probably be awarded a membership in the Order of Canada!”
Josh’s enthusiasm was catching. “Sounds great!” I said. “Where should I go? New York? Hollywood? London?”
“Even better! Sao Paulo!”
My enthusiasm bubble burst rather quickly. “Sao Paulo?” I hopefully asked. “Is that, like, in California?”
“Brazil.”
I cogitated for a moment. “Do they speak English in Brazil?”
“Some of them do. Some of them. But, to be on the safe side, you may want to brush up on your Portugese.”
“I don’t have any Portugese to brush up on.”
“Oh.”
“How am I supposed to be able to continue writing if I don’t share a common language with my potential readers?”
Josh’s sarcasm was so mild that it took my trained ear to recognize it. “It would probably be easier for you to learn Portugese than for all those Brazilians to learn English…”
“Why do you want me to go Brazil so badly?”
“I…uhh…have relatives there who can keep an eye on you…”
“I think we had better reconsider this idea, Josh. I don’t like the idea of removing myself from the mainstream of North American culture. Besides, I’ve never heard of anybody going to Brazil to become famous.”
“How about Sonia Bragga?”
“She was born there!”
As usual, our conversation was beginning to degenerate into the verbal equivalent of a barroom brawl. “But, it will help you…”
“Josh, I’m just not that anxious to leave Canada. Why can’t I succeed here, without having to live anywhere else?”
“Look, we’ve been through that. Besides, living in another country can help you become a better artist – it can widen your horizons. Didn’t you ever read The World According to Garp? ”
“That was fiction, Josh. I think we better forget this.”
“But, what am I going to do with the ticket?”
That’s about the time I usually hang up.