In this heartfelt and hilarious new novel from Greg Howard, an enterprising boy starts his own junior talent agency and signs a thirteen-year-old aspiring drag queen as his first client.
Twelve-year-old Mikey Pruitt--president, founder, and CEO of Anything, Inc.--has always been an entrepreneur at heart. Inspired by his grandfather Pap Pruitt, who successfully ran all sorts of businesses from a car wash to a roadside peanut stand, Mikey is still looking for his million-dollar idea. Unfortunately, most of his ideas so far have failed. A baby tornado ran off with his general store, and the kids in his neighborhood never did come back for their second croquet lesson. But Mikey is determined to keep at it.
It isn't until kid drag queen Coco Caliente, Mistress of Madness and Mayhem (aka eighth grader Julian Vasquez) walks into his office (aka his family's storage/laundry room) looking for an agent that Mikey thinks he's finally found his million-dollar idea, and the Anything Talent and Pizzazz Agency is born!
Soon, Mikey has a whole roster of kid clients looking to hit it big or at least win the middle school talent show's hundred-dollar prize. As newly out Mikey prepares Julian for the gig of a lifetime, he realizes there's no rulebook for being gay--and if Julian can be openly gay at school, maybe Mikey can, too, and tell his crush, dreamy Colton Sanford, how he feels.
Full of laughs, sass, and hijinks, this hilarious, heartfelt story shows that with a little effort and a lot of love, anything is possible.
Quote:It sure would be nice to have someone handle all this busywork now that my assistant bailed on me. I’d much rather be spending my time doing real boss stuff, like planning my next exciting business venture. Retail wasn’t the right fit for me. Neither was professional sports instruction. But I have a million other ideas. Those are just two recent ones that didn’t work out.
Pap Pruitt always says, If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.
I’ve had my share of failures, but I never give up. I know I’ll have a successful business empire one day just like my hero, Pap Pruitt. Technically Pap is my grandfather. He taught me everything I know about business.
My desk first belonged to Pap when he started his real estate business at seventeen years old. When Pap moved into the nursing home, Dad didn’t need it for his landscaping business, so he lets me use it. It’s a real boss-looking desk and I always feel real important sitting at it. I also feel close to Pap when I’m at my desk. He’s been in the nursing home for a while now, and I don’t get to see him as much. Plus he’s sick a lot, so Dad doesn’t always let me go with him to visit Pap. He didn’t let me go today, which I guess is why Pap’s been on my mind.
Pap was a super-crazy-successful entrepreneur when he was younger. He started his own general store, a dry cleaning business, two fast-food franchises, a hotel called the Old Pruitt Place, a pet-grooming business, a landscaping business, three automatic car washes, a boiled-peanut roadside stand, and a whole lot more. I asked him once how he became so successful. I remember the sparkle in his eye when he grinned a little and said, All it takes is a dream and a prayer.
I’ve got lots of dreams. And even though I’m not the best at prayers, the Almighty is pretty used to hearing from me when it comes to a new business idea. Pap started his business empire in his garage with only a hundred dollars, a dream, and a prayer. Pap’s blind now because of the diabetes, but he’s still a wicked-cool guy. I really want to make him proud, but he didn’t have to build his business empire and go to middle school at the same time. I guess Pap was a late bloomer.
It’s a little embarrassing, having to do homework at your real job. I’ll bet Malcolm Forbes never had to do that and he was, like, one of the most successful business guys ever. Luckily my office is pretty private, but that doesn’t always keep the riffraff out. Sometimes it can get so noisy in here, especially when the dryer’s on its last cycle like it is now. It sounds like a space shuttle getting ready to launch. And there must be a shoe in there, because something bangs against the side every few seconds, distracting me from my work. I lean back in my executive, fake-leather desk chair and stare at Dad’s tools hanging on the wall, waiting for the banging to stop.
The annoyingly long honk of the buzzer sounds and the pounding inside the machine finally fades away. I hit the Talk button on the intercom on my desk.
“Mom,” I say, pretty loud so she can hear me from anywhere inside the house. And because I’m annoyed that there’s a washer and dryer in my office.
No response.
