“A high-octane, electric look at Madison Avenue craziness from a pair who’ve been there and done that.”— Publishers Weekly   One woman attempts to beat the boys club at their own game in this wickedly funny novel that is both a takedown of the advertising industry and an inspiring story about breaking through the glass ceiling.   Twenty-something copywriter Kay Carlson has landed her dream job at the top ad agency in New York City, but it turns out life at the edgiest shop in town is less “Lean in” and more #MeToo. Talent and hard work don’t count as much as winning the approval of her hotshot creative director, Elliott, whose idea of team-building is bullying his boy tribe to tag along to the strip club. Meanwhile, Kay is stuck at the office penning puns for the cat food account none of the cool kids will touch.   When the agency's biggest client threatens to fire them, Kay realizes her job will be first on the chopping block if she doesn't find a way to outshine the old regime. Winning another account will require all her creativity and strength, but can Kay find the confidence to risk it all so she can rewrite the rules from the corner office? Or will she be on the first bus back to Jersey, too washed up to write copy for the phone book? Praise for Copygirl “Here’s what happens when girl power storms  Mad Men ….Wickedly funny and smartly sweet….A high-octane, electric look at Madison Avenue craziness from a pair who’ve been there and done that.”— Publishers Weekly “ Copygirl  is my new girl crush. Always looking to discover more Cool Funny Working Girl Heroines. A great, great read.”—Lucy Sykes, bestselling coauthor of  The Knockoff “The authors paint an agency world in which you see... how the not-so subtle bro-ism of an ad agency starts to shut out women (and some men!)...A great ride.”— Advertising Age Magazine “Downright fresh modern chick-lit...Filled with depth, honesty, mishaps, witty banter, and a colorful cast of characters.”— Manhattan Book Review “A character readers will want to root for as she learns how to get her footing in a world that isn’t necessarily interested in helping her out.”— Library Journal “This modern twist on  Mad Men  is engaging, interesting, and most importantly, funny as hell.   Copygirl  is the book that will turn your wine club back into a book club.”—Sarah Bird, author of  Above the East China Sea   “We loved Copygirl— it bursts off the page with its witty narrative and sly observations.”—Liz Fenton and Lisa Steinke, co-authors of  The Status of All Things Anna Mitchael is a Louisiana-born writer who now lives on a ranch in Texas with her family, lots of cattle and a one-eyed dog. She is the author of a memoir entitled Just Don’t Call Me Ma’am , a monthly magazine column and a blog on positive living. She often writes about the modern female experience, hope, perseverance and the comfort of coyotes.  Michelle Sassa is a freelance writer who has created memorable ad campaigns for brands like Coca-Cola, Reebok and New York Road Runners. She lives with her husband and three kids by the Jersey Shore, where she is an avid soccer player, rock music aficionado, and disciple of stupid humor. CopyGirl is Michelle's first novel. contents cat lady It’s so hard to think when you have a gun pointed at your head. “First thing tomorrow, you’d better show me genius,” Elliott had warned us earlier. Then he followed up with his very favorite threat: “Remember, I can fill your seats in five minutes.” Come on, Kay, think. Think. THINK! I just need one good cat food slogan. It’s not like I have to find the cure for cancer or invent some dome that will let us live on Mars. I type the first thing that comes to my head: Here, shitty kitty. And I am pretty darn sure that’s not what Elliott has in mind. Here, shitty kitty is what Johnjoshjay say every morning when they see me coming down the hall of cubicles that comprise our ad agency’s creative department. Here, shitty kitty. Here, shitty kitty. The boys’ club loves to tease me, and this gem is their favorite catcall. (Pardon the pun. Occupational hazard.) It’s because I’m the copywriter on Little Kitty, get it? Oh so clever. In retaliation, I refuse to call any of them by their individual name. At least, not in my own head. They deserve one generic identity since they all dress like identical little hipsters: sagging jeans, designer sneakers, ratty but overpriced T-shirts, hats on backward until they come in the door and then drop them next to their computers along with their matching leather satchels. Those poser suck-ups think they’re so great because they get to work on Superfine sneakers and Atlantis—the urban clothing line out of Brooklyn. And I’m stuck penning print ads for “pussy food.” Another one of their wink-wink witticisms. But I’m not going to let any of that get me down. After all, Little Kitty is our biggest account. The proverbial cash cow. Our bread and butter. Its big budge