QUERY LETTER by Farrell Hamann: 2015

Now finished. Adorable, light, about kissing

Best Literary Agency, Inc.

Dear agents, publishers, critics, and readers. I'm deeply flawed and already know this, hope you are well.
I'm an artist/writer living in Sacramento, CA. I've lived in Paris, NYC, Alaska, Seattle, Vermont, Detroit (day-twaaa). Synchronicity! That's in my book. Calvin says something like: "If I had a string attached to you, I'd want to pluck it!" To this (Princess) Finvola says: "If you plucked me, I'd go: twaaaa."

I get a lot of hits in social media, nearly 1 1/2 million on G+, currently down to about 40k a month on Twitter because of time taken off for my book, same with Pinterest. I've been promoting the book with my own images.
In Santa Barbara, CA, I had a writer's file with The Tonight Show, circa Carson, and much generous correspondence from the two head writers. I would send jokes and they would advise in pages of advice, suggestions, and perhaps threats.

A: The carrot or the stick Q: What is a crummy offer from a sex offender? Please note that this is a Carnac joke and Mr. Carson wrote all of those himself. May alley cats flick gravel in your face! Also Carnac. I have artwork in the White House collection or two presidential libraries. Good quotes from the Getty Museum, Oprah, Museum of Fine Arts Boston, TV time on the news (20 + features).

My book, Greenland Tower xoxo is nearly 85k words exactly, my goal. The "xoxo" in the title is not gratuitous because the entire book is about kisses and hugs and why Calvin can't get any. Finvola and Missy think that it would endanger him. There is a lot of French pastry in this book, Finvola is a snacker and a stunningly attractive older woman. Missy has a bad ass de Havilland Canada Buffalo STOL (short take off and land) cargo plane that she uses for covert and UN humanitarian aid.

Calvin is a straightforward and bright guy who runs dry, increasingly productive, placer mining operations on claims in the Mojave Desert. One of his guys, Snake, was actually born on the back of his own truck and runs a public salt lick on his claim (please be considerate). Calvin was always the prospector's little genius and later in the story, solved the drab female bird mystery (important in bird theory). Simply this: If the female bird were any cuter, the male bird would lose it.

Before the start of the book, Calvin gets bonked on the head by a 6 1/2 Troy gold nugget 991 fine (only 8000 of these are known to exist) and has spells of vivid reality, however, ridiculous. One reoccurring example of this is Calvin living in a haystack with his landlord/employer, Finvola in the most basic of hand to mouth ways. He has two possessions, a crummy sword never used except, perhaps, to use the tip of it to offer up his bedraggled, budget, moss stuffed, burlap, punishment underwear to the Princess riding by on her horse. Missy is a castle person and her horse has it out for Calvin. The horse has greater social status than Calvin. Calvin gets four or five days off a year because Finvola is a progressive. Finvola wears scratchies.

The other reoccurring feature is that the prospectors bury Calvin up to his neck in the desert or he finds himself in a hole and they shoot him questions, mostly friendly, and sprinkle him with gold dust or toss a stick of dynamite in the wood stove (without malice or harm). Old Nevada Mac runs Calvin's affair in the Mojave while the prospector's exile California Cal to the Hamptons to see the world and recover from the head injury. Nevada Mac sends Calvin a Mousegram warning that Northern New Jersey Sewage recently powered up ten new, oceanliner sized Wartsila (a real company)diesel engines and are pumping raw sewage into Manhattan faster than the Manhattan pumps can handle it.

Missy wonders if Calvin is a djinn or genie of the desert, a creature made by Allah from smokeless fire while Missy and Finvola were from clay.

My story is easy to read and no one will get lost. There are some very tender parts that make me cry. The only protagonist in the story is billionaire Max's dark Greenland Tower fixation (Max was abused). Max links up with Calvin and Missy and gets better and the darkness fades away. Bill is Missy's gay pretend husband who is a Wall Street tycoon with an elderly domineering mother (who millions see dancing the red hot cobra momma in her bespoke, diamond encrusted showgirl costume).

The book is woman and girl friendly and the gay community should go bananas. Bobcat's wife practices an oddball religion that requires her to sacrifice Bob's things to her Gods when they're hungry yet they do not tolerate homophobia and have a hysterical ritual dance for coming out bashful which gets performed in front of the formerly homophobic mom. Two guys in one pair of red checkered stretch pants.

Calvin lands in Southampton, New York and tangles up with Missy and Finvola. Finny is giving him such a deal on his rent, he goes to a ritzy shop in Southampton to buy her a nice dress. Circumstances lead Calvin to become the golden-haired boy of Haute Couture worldwide and saving Manhattan from sewage and New Jersey from malaria using Missy's Buffalo and her four-engined Lockheed Martin C-130j Super Hercules, hauling Pinconning and Limburger cheese. Finvola and Missy can finally give Calvin the tiniest of kisses before he jumps off into the void from the cargo plane. End of story. Finvola and Missy do smell slightly of dirty socks and expensive French perfume because Limburger cheese, dirty feet, same bacillus. The mice are important to the story only at the very end.
Greenland Tower xoxo/Hamann CHAPTER 1Calvin loved the desert and he loved every natural place, especially if there was shade. There was no shade here unless you counted his hat, dad’s old Stetson. On the desert varnish, where he stood in the one hundred and fourteen-degree heat, some bug was probably creeping over to the shade of the hat to cool off, He’d better watch his feet.
Desert varnish is a darkish coating on rocks and pebbles that forms on surfaces exposed for practically geologic time, it tends to be patchy, scattered here and there and is annoying if you like looking at rocks or need to because it makes them all look the same. How it forms is little understood
Want to cool off in the shade behind the sign to Zzyzx Road? You have to kill something first! Open your trunk to get a jug of water, “the thing” will run up out of nowhere, whack you with its spiked tail, grab your water and disappear into the desert!
Calvin heard a creaky trailer door slamming behind him and figured old Nevada Mac was coming over to cause trouble. Mac was notorious for breaking flimsy trailers doors. He didn't move beyond the sixteen by sixteen carport like shade structure that Cal had built for him for his eighty-first birthday.
“Too damn hot!” Nevada Mac screamed out at him in that unforgettable, raspy voice: “Why are you pissing on my mining claim? Biscuits, Calvin, come get some before someone sneaks in here and steals them again.”
“Don’t forget the mouse, Nevada,” Calvin reminded.“I’m checking his water dish right now,” Mac said, letting the trailer door bang behind him.Calvin thought: “Old Mac’s chili on the stove, don’t take a bite, nine days old!”, and wanted to kiss him.
CHAPTER 2
Journal of Max. There will be lots of heaters built into Greenland Tower. I hate cold. Staff can wear their crusty long johns a few stories down, fuck them. Staff probably thinks they're they're going to live in Montecito but they’re headed for fucking Greenland with me controlling the thermostat, haha. They can always go out and smash bird eggs for recreation, I don’t give a fuck. I don’t want any fucking birds on my tower.
Journal of Max. Up the oligarchy, down with the panties! HaHa. You know, I could pay staff a thousand bucks to see who comes up with the most authentically germy looking, gag inducing, dingy undershorts. My controller, Will..”

Sample text from page 271

The “damaged” part of his brain? Cupid’s arrow does not damage, you do not die, you hop around like a happy idiot! Same with Cupid’s six and a half ounce gold nugget .991 Fine. Flung with love and perfect trajectory and the breeze just so, and bouncing off granite, and gems, and knocking a scorpion for a loop and careening perfectly down through a spider web and bonking Calvin, then bounced away to be found later. They moved Calvin’s head and found a different nugget right there on that spot! In all, making you wonder why fate seems so idiotically low tech.

Settled nakedly comfy in her cozy bed, which was Calvin’s cot, and with her dainty foot warming on Calvin’s chest while Calvin sawed logs on the floor, and under a pure vicuna blanket that Calvin had pieced together from second hand, ancient garments, the world’s softest, Missy couldn't sleep quite yet.

Calvin had politely requested Missy to use her Misses Einstein like brain in a spare moment 

 and, like a good logician, find the fatal flaw in his twisted plan to subvert the codebreakers and 

 control their brains. This was keeping her awake. Control the codebreakers, have them stream 

 caca to the command center of the other side, said Calvin, wickedly as he drifted off to sleep 

there on the floor with Missy’s foot warming on his chest.

“Nevada’s sending a mousegram”, Calvin said with an ironic chuckle and then snored softly like a

contented old blue tick hound and Missy’s dear foot on him was like a sleepy kitten.