Many years ago, when I first wrote a book I was filled with enthusiasm – actually, I’m still filled with enthusiasm – but also, impatience. You know how it is, you’ve finally manged to get from one end of a novel to another and you want to get your masterpiece out there as soon as possible… even though, in year heart of hearts, you know it’s not ready.
Yeh.
I think all I really wanted to know was whether or not somebody “in the know” thought I had the writing ability to cut it. So… I had a friend of a friend who was an agent and after a very helpful and friendly initial call, I sent it to them. He said it wasn’t his bag gave me another name. I sent it to her, she said it wasn’t her bag, gave me another name and I decided to wait until I’d rewritten it before I tried that.
Spool forward 8 years. I look her up and yes the agency is still going. I send an e-mail and horror of horrors, get a very nice reply saying she died some years back but that if I’d like to send an excerpt in, they’d be happy to read it!
I did.
They said no.
Arse!
Never mind they were kind enough to try to help, advise and answer questions when I rang for feedback and I still believe in this one, it is marketable.
Even so… I feel kind of flat.
Sigh.
