Waiting for the reply of a publishing house re: a book I'm working on (I sent them the 40% already done). Since there's no way they're gonna publish an unknown author in Brazil[1], the best thing I could come up with to try and game the system was to start writing a pastiche along the lines of those "Jane Austen With Zombies" books, only better (because my book doesn't have fuck*ng zombies). It's supposed to be a pastiche of H. P. Lovecraft and Machado de Assis, who is usually acknowledged as the finest writer this country ever produced (I concur, he's big league; Harold Bloom has some nice things to say about him, and if you're interested in checking the dude out, he's got stuff translated to English). So it wouldn't be my name selling the book, it would be Lovecraft's and Machado's. But I'm not expecting a reply anytime soon, so that's more like a non-event, really.
[1]What with Brazil not having sufficient interest in literature to justify a gamble in the market, even if modest. Sucker comes to a publishing house with a manuscript under his arm, he says "Please I have something special if you only give it a chance", but what is heard: "Hey I want you to throw 20k in the toilet for me, then flush it. C'mon, I'm a good guy...". It's not like everybody is avidly waiting for the next big literary event down here. People are fine with soap operas as the forum for the public conscience - that, and reality shows. So a poor market begets poor commercial practices, to the point where the major occupation for an editor in a market-oriented publishing house consists in reading imitations of successful books (such as 50 Shades of Blaglrarbalg) to try and get some of that sweet action - so it's not even a search for The Next Big Thing, it's a search for The Same Big Thing, With Another Name.