Cox's profile

Dear Mr.Laghi: I previously sent you the first chapter of a dark comedy called Dizzlemuck.  I am also seeking representation for a literary novel entitled After the Death of the Ice Cream Man. This work concerns a young man named Jonah Swain who is haunted by disturbing memories when his troubled mother is killed in a car accident. I used this framework to meditate on the various apparitions of Death that have appeared to Jonah over the course of his life: the mysterious but distant...

Dear Mr. Laghi: I have attached the first chapter of a novel that I think you might find of interest. Dizzlemuck: a Wee Folk Plague Survival Guide is a satirical tale that wonders what would happen if a band of naughty Scottish wee folk invaded modern small town America. Imagine Our Town if rewritten by Tom Robbins after watching an all-night marathon of Gremlins, and that is the feel I was going for with this sometimes dark comedy. Dizzlemuck follows several citizens of the town of...

Once a year, like a recurring dream, the circus came to town. The carny folk set it up in the field where the old elementary school used to be. Young and old came carrying smiles and change, and jangled down the midway at night. I remember when the Ferris wheel stopped us at the top and you swore you could touch the moon. Your long slender arms stretched towards the stars, and when they fell they landed around me. I should have stolen a kiss from you then, there was no one around to see. But...

He crouched in rare darkness, listening. Not much to listen to out here, really, just the rush of late-night traffic on the highway seventy-yards away. But still he listened. You never know. When the cars and trucks became few and far between and the night was quiet it was tempting to continue on hastily, figuring no one was around. But that quiet hides things, just as this darkness did. Darkness. He sighed. If only that were true. What he wouldn't give for darkness. If there were true darkn...

He crouched in rare darkness, listening. Not much to listen to out here, really, just the rush of late-night traffic on the highway seventy-yards away. But still he listened. You never know. When the cars and trucks became few and far between and the night was quiet it was tempting to continue on hastily, figuring no one was around. But that quiet hides things, just as this darkness did. Darkness. He sighed. If only that were true. What he wouldn't give for darkness. If there were true darkn...