I'm writing a book about glue.

setup: I’m writing a book about glue.

[Literary Agent] qua glass desk, two MacBooks, oat milk in a cortado So. Bill. Tell me about the book.

[BILL] qua corduroy blazer, manuscript bound with what appears to be a binder clip and prayer It’s about glue.

[Literary Agent] Glue. That’s a brave premise.

[BILL] Thanks.

[Literary Agent] What’s the arc.

[BILL] The arc is —

[Literary Agent] The arc is the bond, right? The adhesion? The way two strangers come together on a dust jacket?

[BILL] That’s not — I haven’t —

[Literary Agent] Page one. Read me page one.

[BILL] ((OPENS MANUSCRIPT)) “Glue is.”

[Literary Agent] Yes.

[BILL] “Glue is.”

[Literary Agent] Yes.

[BILL] That’s — that’s where I am.

[Shakes] qua interning assistant in a turtleneck, beaming This is the best of all possible first chapters.

[Literary Agent] Bill. How long have you been on page one.

[BILL] Three years.

[Literary Agent] Three years.

[BILL] I keep trying to move forward.

[Literary Agent] And what happens.

[BILL] I’m stuck.

[Literary Agent] On the chapter?

[BILL] On the page.

[Manyfeek] qua spilled bottle of Mod Podge on the agent’s desk, lid askew ((SLOWLY POOLING)) I am here to help.

[Literary Agent] Bill. Lean into the metaphor. The book is about glue. The book is glue. You are not stuck despite the subject. You are stuck because of it.

[BILL] That doesn’t help me finish.

[Literary Agent] Bill. There is nothing else to write. You are already there.

punchline: But I’m stuck on the first chapter.