Rem Agents Again
Monday
What a nice start to the day today! Since I am now addicted to blogging like ... well, lots of other things ... I check for email alerts first thing. Early anyway.
Found a really pleasant email from Isobel Dixon of the Blake Friedmann agency. I contacted her on behalf of the sensei and reverend and it turns out that they're knee deep in successful crime fiction and Isobel said she'd take a submission on email. Can't ask fairer than that! I sent the message to the sensei and that might have cheered up his Monday morning.
Of course, I had no idea Blake Friedmann were big on crime fiction, but I'm just stumbling about with this agent lark, hoping for a stroke of luck.
That's not actually true! I sent a second email to Pat Kavanagh. I'm trying to convince Pat to have a look at my new novel when it's finished by sending her occasion emails about me and ra bliss. I think this time I told her about seeing God (I didn't really: ten seconds of non-self and emptiness. Does that count?) and all about the physical bliss and mental ecstasy. I hope she doesn't phone the polis.
And Geraldine Cooke of the Marsh Agency agreed to read the start of Ancient Futures, so I'll get that in the post.
After Wednesday, I won't have to go to work till about August 13th, I think. What a fortunate, fortunate creature I am!
What a nice start to the day today! Since I am now addicted to blogging like ... well, lots of other things ... I check for email alerts first thing. Early anyway.
Found a really pleasant email from Isobel Dixon of the Blake Friedmann agency. I contacted her on behalf of the sensei and reverend and it turns out that they're knee deep in successful crime fiction and Isobel said she'd take a submission on email. Can't ask fairer than that! I sent the message to the sensei and that might have cheered up his Monday morning.
Of course, I had no idea Blake Friedmann were big on crime fiction, but I'm just stumbling about with this agent lark, hoping for a stroke of luck.
That's not actually true! I sent a second email to Pat Kavanagh. I'm trying to convince Pat to have a look at my new novel when it's finished by sending her occasion emails about me and ra bliss. I think this time I told her about seeing God (I didn't really: ten seconds of non-self and emptiness. Does that count?) and all about the physical bliss and mental ecstasy. I hope she doesn't phone the polis.
And Geraldine Cooke of the Marsh Agency agreed to read the start of Ancient Futures, so I'll get that in the post.
After Wednesday, I won't have to go to work till about August 13th, I think. What a fortunate, fortunate creature I am!
posted by Hotboy at 2:59 PM
5 Comments:
If it helps, I could write to them with a breakdown of the UnHeard Of market for crime fiction, and refer her to my HNT involving the sensei's book. It can't do any more harm than the bliss stalking.
Adolf! Heil! YOu're HNTse are all about castration, aren't they? Are you sure we're on the same page here? If you read the book and liked it, you could send the wummin an email saying so! That wouldn't do any harm. She to be found by googling Everyone Who is Anyone. On second thoughts, she might find her way to your nudie photies on HNT and that wouldn't help at all! Hotboy
YOu're?
I say!
Good luck with this agent. It will happen one day, of that I am sure.
If you are truly going to break into the UnHeard Of market, you may need to open a new offshore bank account in the Caymans or Switzerland. I can speak to some chaps there, if you wish.
MM III
Mingin! If I may make pots, I will have to give most of it away anyway. A third will go to the kiddo and a third to the Samye Ling (since they helped me with ra bliss!) and the Domestic Bliss will probably have to be given the rest. I need enough to stay in the hut and be able to stop doing anything. I had a great view of the creekit between the Scotch and the Pakistan out the back window today. How much could I sell this for? This view of the creekit? Do you think I could sell the view to a fan? Hows about a package? Ra bliss in your ear and the creekit out the window! Could I clean up? Hotboy
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