"Dear God, What the Fuck?"

Speaking of books...

Let's just say I've been working on a book about a woman's end-life discussions with God. And no, it's actually funny in places.

Think I can sell it with a title like "Dear God, What the Fuck?" or will I have to (BLEEP) it to make a publisher think Wal-Mart will order it?

Now, if a publisher happened by, I'll point you to some bestsellers right now that cover something of the same space but far less honestly, far less raw, far less amusingly. If you'll print James Frey's book, "A Million Little Pieces" - waving to the crew at Simon & Schuster I once wrote for when Viacom bought everything - you'll print fucking (or bleeping, if you're a Midwest publisher, of course) anything.

The first three chapters are available and I come house-trained, deadline-worthy, and with my own literary agent whenever I can find him. And no, it's not a technical book. ;P I've also authored 35 other published books but why exactly I did that eludes me. It's the masochist in me, I'm fairly certain.

If, however, you're another agent and you see some potential here, well... I accept my royalties with a 15% cut without screaming so long as the check is good and you have FedEx. The only thing I don't do is renege on contracts or go on Oprah (don't get me started on Oprah, the great white Hope for corn-fed white women throughout the land).