confidence knock

Not sure what to do.
Didn't expect it was going to be this hard to get an agent. I knew it was going to be difficult but this is getting painful and expensive.

It's a great book (read the beginning, if you haven't already). Now what?

I'm going to bed. But I'm not going to give up.


Saw a great book title today, translated from French-

'The Social Escalator was Broken so I Took the Lift.'

about an immigrant facing prejudice in France and eventually becoming dead successful.

Waves

3 good responses- all from big agents. Just not good enough.

1.

I've now had a chance to read your material and it shows enormous promise. Sadly, though, I don't think it's quite a big enough book for us to take on. When we decide to publish new thriller writers we have to believe we can make their books lead titles, and this one, despite its promise, is just not sufficiently polished and original and exciting enough for that.

I'm pretty sure that you have it in you to write at that level - if you do try a completely different book, I'd be delighted to have the chance to look at it. And of course, another editor may well disagree about the potential of Clipped. So - best of luck with this book, and with the writing.


2.

We have all enjoyed reading it and feel you have talent. However despite many good features, including the use of local colour (Thailand), we are not sure that you are quite ‘there’ yet with this one, and so we won’t ask to see any more of it. Today’s market is very competitive, and we need to feel absolutely convinced that we can sell a title before signing up a new author.

Although we won’t offer to represent you with this first novel, we would be more than happy to take a look at anything else you write.”


3.

Thanks so much for allowing me to read your work, which I really enjoyed...however, I wasn’t completely bowled over sufficiently to represent you at this stage. I like your writing and was intrigued by the plot of a serial killer in Bangkok, but I just didn’t love the execution of the story...given that it is a really tough market at the moment, I really need to be in love with something in order to take it on.

If you have anything else in the pipeline, I would be interested in reading it in the new year (as I am away from Dec 7). But I understand you want to get moving and wish you the very best in your search for an agent. Thanks again for letting me read your work.


Not sure whether to focus on the nice stuff they're writing or the basic fact they all said no and maybe these three just write nicer letters. Difficult to know how to take it. And however positive they were, there's nothing in the way of helpful feedback.

email from Lou in Morocco

'...I WANT TO READ MORE!'

My favourite standard letter trying to disguise itself as a personal response

'Dear Author

Thank you for sending me your material. I am afraid that pressure of work prevents me from sending you a personal letter.

I have now had a chance to consider this and am sorry to say that although I found it well written and quite interesting to read, I didn’t feel strongly enough about it to want to take things further…'

I'm wondering if everyone gets a letter saying their book is "well written" and "quite interesting"? Even if it's utter crap? Or does she have different levels of standard letter?

...cannot provide a detailed comment...

My November blitz has produced a stack of ‘No’s’ in the last five days. Standard letters, bad photocopies of standard letters and small compliments slips with wonky typing. Having a bit of a wobble.

too tired to take it in

Got a NO from Mr Big Cheese.
Went to bed about 5 a.m. last night and the postlady turns up with this huge package at about 9 a.m. so I was kind of dazed.

'I'm afraid that I did not feel this was suitable for my list and that I am not the right agent to help you with the book.'

No comments/feedback. Too knackered to really take it in. Went back to bed and woke up pissed off. 2 agents have asked to read the whole book and they've both said no.

On a positive side XXX XXX agency paid for the postage to send it back. Which was about ten quid. Every cloud...

Going Up One

Phone message from my brother:

‘Oi, you fool. Only 3 of The Darkness are from Lowestoft.’

So I’m up to number 7. If some plucker buys my book.

In with a shot

Email from Little Joe in New York:

‘Love the blog Rob. Fantastic opening chapters. You’ll soon be the most famous person to come from Lowestoft!!!’

Afraid not. Even with a great book deal and Clipped on a 3-for-2 offer at the front of Borders and heavily discounted in Tesco’s I reckon I might just scrape in at number 5. After

1. ‘The Darkness’
2. Hannah from ‘S-Club 7’
3. Rap DJ Tim Westwood
4. Dead composer Benjamin Britten
5. Me with a book deal.

And if you count The Darkness as four people I go down to number 8…

Domestic Goddess

Nigella Lawson’s agent (as well as tons of others) said on the phone that they weren't accepting new clients but I sent a letter and biog anyway. They replied today:

'Dear Mr Isherwood, (sic)

Thank you for sending us a letter about your novel CLIPPED. Please can you send the first three chapters...'

Bad Impressions

Z.S.A.C asked to read the first 3 chapters on September 20 and I mailed them.
I wrote a polite follow up email to the agent on October 12. No reply.
I wrote a polite follow up email to the agent’s assistant on November 17. No reply.
Phoned the assistant today but she was out.
As well as looking a bit crap and inefficient it also looks pretty rude. Do I really want an agent like that?
(Answer: If it’s the only one who’ll take me on, YES!)
But replying to emails is pretty basic stuff.

Sorry, we don't do crisps

Had a trial for a barman's job in Soho last night. Pretty relaxed place and OK tips. Didn't screw up too badly although when I cashed up, my till said I was £145 down. And all I thought I'd done was lose 10p on the floor...
Normally anything over £1.50 we have to pay for ourselves.
Got asked to come back Friday.

Balls

Just got an email back from the agency who asked to read the whole book:

'Thank you for writing to us regarding your work. We are afraid that, despite its qualities, we do not feel sufficiently enthusiastic to offer to represent it.

We apologise for the impersonal nature of this letter and regret that we cannot enter into correspondence about your work.'

This is the 'determinate interest' people.
Made me smile #1: When she emailed asking to read more she signed with her name. When she emailed to say no it was signed “The XXX Agency.”

Made me smile #2: Her email address was intern2@XXXagency so I'm obviously getting read by people at the very top :)

No word from Mr Big Cheese Agent.

Got a letter from one of the CWA judges, (see Nov 4) a commisioning editor at a big publisher:

'I’d love to look at the material from Clipped.'

But she doesn't want to read it off the internet because it's too hard to read. Send her a paper copy. If she likes it I might not even need an agent.

Read it yourself. And don't check in the database

Very cool agent who represents two big authors I like (see Nov 16) writes back:

“Do send me the first three chapters…”

Her agency slush pile has said no already so I hope she doesn’t give it back to them to read again.

Another agent of a big author writes:

“Please send us the first three chapters…”

But it's signed by the slush lady who already said no so I won’t bother.

Wierd but true

If you search my name in 'books' in amazon.co.uk you get 3 hits:

1. 'The Ultimate World Wrestling Federation Trivia Book.'
2. 'Purchasing Power: Consumer Organizing, Gender, and the Seattle Labor Movement, 1919-1929.'
3. 'Oz Clarke's Australian Wine Companion.'

If you do it on amazon.com you get 6000 hits.
Also if you type my name into google, this blog now comes up second. (It was about two-hundred-and-something).

Email Z.S.A.C.'s assistant (see September 20) and ask if there's any news. It's been two months and nobody replied to my last email (October 12). See if the follow-up to the follow-up works. Or whether I have to do a follow-up phone call to follow-up the...

Blitz before Xmas

Have written to the agents of all the crime/thriller writers in the UK that I admire. They get a letter saying why I’m writing to them, “because you represent XXX,” a 150 word synopsis and a biog. Some of these are at agencies whose slush piles have already rejected me but I don’t trust the slush and it only costs two second class stamps.

No number 13

ICM reply:

The extract was found to be very engaging… However the material is unsuitable for our agency.

'Engaging' is good. Better than that bloke who thought it was 'whimsical.' (see May 19th)
Although calling it 'unsuitable' makes it sound like porn.

My weekend starts 9.20 a.m. Monday

Finally finshed at 11.50 last night. 5 days solid work. Emailed one copy off and printed the other out.
I tried to take a photo of the manuscript. (It was huuuuuge). But every battery in my flat was dead and the ones in the TV remote were too weak. Wanted to deliver the book before the agent arrived for work so gave up and went to the post office.

Me: How much will it cost to send this second class?

Post Office Lady: You can’t send it second class. It’s over two kilos.

Me: How much will it cost then?

Post Office Lady: Ten pounds thirty-seven.

I was always going to hand deliver it but I now decide not to include return postage either. I’ll ask if I can collect it myself instead. (If they don’t like it, that is). Hope they don't think that's too cheeky.

Have to say, the receptionist at the agency is very, very friendy and helpful. (Compared to some of the ogres I've spoken to).

Big Job

Madly making sure all ninety-nine chapters are s**t-hot. It's going to take all weekend. Unemployed Charlie asks if I want to get out of London and stay at his on Saturday night but I decide not to. I know I won't relax until everything is finished.

Will forever kick myself if I blow it with Mr Big Cheese because I gave him something that wasn't ready.

On a roll

Wow.
What a 2 days. Just got another email:


Dear Rob
I enjoyed the first three chapters which I read online. Please do send me by post the rest of the thriller.


Yes! And this guy is one of the absolute, big, big cheeses in London. He’s on my dream list of 10 agents that I wrote six months ago. Well chuffed. Jumped up and down in my boxer shorts for two minutes before I realised a lady in Saatchi and Saatchi opposite was pointing me out to her colleague.

But again not getting my hopes up. He’s only read three chapters. He needs to like the other ninety-six too. (They’re short. But not as short as James Patterson’s).

This also proves my theory that good news doesn’t come by post.
And to reinforce that I got a letter from one of the CWA judges:

‘Clipped’ certainly sounds interesting, and I must say I am in awe of your CV…
(If you haven’t read it yet, check it out here)
Unfortunately XXX do not accept unsolicited manuscripts… and our crime and thriller lists are completely full at this time.’

good news

8 minutes ago I got my first agent interested. They've read the first 3 chapters and want to see the rest.

Wheeee! At ****ing last!

They make it brutally clear that I shouldn't get my hopes up though. The e-mail says:

'...I would like to stress that this request should not be seen as a determinate interest in representing its publication.'

That's OK, it hadn't even crossed my mind to take it as that.
Must remember that line: 'Of course I'll have a drink with you, but please do not see that as a determinate interest in going to bed...'

Literacy skills continue to dive

My favourite response yet. The letter says:

‘Thanks for your info however I do not handle screenplays.’

I don’t know what she thought she was looking at.
All I can imagine is that she read the first line of my letter, which says ‘I am a young writer looking for representation. I have had three feature-length screenplays optioned…’ and then didn’t bother to finish the sentence which says ‘and am now hoping to secure a deal for my first novel Clipped.’ I imagine she also didn’t bother looking at the synopsis or the 42 pages of book I sent.

I e-mail back saying ‘Thank you for your prompt response. I understand you do not deal with screenplays but ‘Clipped’ is an 80,000 word novel.’

See what she says. It’s not like I’ve got anything to lose.


Saw Russell Crowe in Soho and he looked very happy. Big beardy smile on his face opposite Wagamama. I was with my mum but she wasn't interested because she doesn't know who he is.

Mr Scraggs talks nonsense

Reading a history of detective fiction. Lots of interesting stuff even though this on page 3 made me chuckle

‘Structuralist approaches do have their advantages, although they are limited, and this study will begin with a diachronic outline of the development of the genre in order to provide a framework within which to contextualise the key points of its broader analysis.’

If anyone understands that please post a comment and explain.

Were your eyes shut?

Out with Paul and Gabriella. They’ve finally got round to reading my blog.

Paul: I love the prologue. It really worked, I totally wanted to read more.

Gabriella: Yes, that poor woman, dying of AIDS.

Paul: She wasn’t dying of AIDS!

Gabriella: Yes, she was.

Paul: She was about to get murdered by the serial killer!

Gabriella: And she had AIDS.

Paul: No, she didn’t. That was the whole point.

Gabriella: Really?

Paul: Yes. Are you totally thick?

Gabriella doesn’t look convinced. ‘No, you’re wrong…’

We walk the whole way from one side of Clapham Common to the other before it occurrs to either of them to ask me. I mean, I only wrote it. :)

Another off chance

Found out about the Crime Writers Association Debut Dagger Award today. It’s for unpublished crime/thriller wtiters and I’ve missed the closing date.
Balls.
Wrote a letter to all the judges (2 agents, a commissioning editor, an editorial assistant, a publishing director and publisher) with a brief synopsis, biography and a link to the first 3 chapters.
I also enclosed an sae so they have no excuse not to reply.

lost bird

e-mail from Simon in Sydney:

'Rob- Are your students all mad? Where is the picture of you and the chicken?'

The scrawny chicken has got lots of attention (FYI Simon, it's in the May archive) but is now dead. As of September Nanny has no chickens, just a Jack Russell with impetigo.

Smoking at work

Phone up a big central London agency.

Me: Good afternoon, are you accepting submissions?

Long pause.

‘Yah,’ says a young man. He sounds stoned.

Me: Great. Who do I address it to?

Him: Uh, (another long pause) I guess that would be… uh, me.

I wait for him to tell me his name. He doesn't.

Me. Can I have your name please?

Him. Yah, of course… It’s XXX. But there’s like a really long wait, like maybe even six months. (pause) Or something.



Next phone call:

Me: Good afternoon. Are you…

(Stern-sounding woman interrupts)

Her: I’m on the other line.

Me: No problem, should I call…

Her: Is this about submissions?

Me: Yes, I…

Her: Not for me. (she hangs up)

I didn't teach you that (E-mail from ex-students)

Dear teacher

We very love you interested website. It make us very funny, many time. Very pleasure, especially photograph chicken in front.
You are best teacher in ELS. We love you classes!!! Even if sometime glumpy.

Big hug

Kimiko and Mitsuki


No word from Z.S.A.C. either.
How long do you wait to write a follow-up e-mail to a follow-up e-mail?

E-mail from Alex

Dear Rob
Re: your buy-my-book blog. As a friend I have to say that I think you are in real danger of losing all credibility and undermining your efforts to secure a book deal. Proper writers don’t resort to this sort of glib self-publicity and if the book is strong enough it will surely stand on its own merits without the need for all the hoo-har.
Thought you should be told.
Are you still coming on Saturday? Please bring something dry and white, preferably Italian, and not beer like last time.
Regards
Alex

Z.S.A.C. is out of the office.

No reply to my e-mail. No auto-reply either. What's going on?
Frankfurt is October 19-23 so maybe she really is snowed under.

Lying to the Royal Family

Reading a book called “Mortification” where famous writers tell of their public humiliation on book tours, interviews etc… Reminded me of my Princess Anne Experience.
When I was fourteen she came to our school and I was chosen as my year representative in the Art Department. The big day came and we all stood in a row in front of a display of paintings and models. At the last minute I was told to say that I’d made the model behind me. This was a two foot high knight in armour sitting on a horse, perfect in every detail- chain mail, linen underclothes, leather saddle and miniature arrows tipped with flint. All four eyes were tiny marbles, the horse's tail was real horse hair and the knight's hands were sculpted in pink plastercine. A total masterpiece.
Anyway, Princess Anne turns up late, in a helicopter, walks down the line and stops at me.

‘Is this yours?’ she asks.
‘Yes,’ I say.
‘Very interesting. What’s it made from?’
And because I hadn’t made it and had hardly looked at it I didn’t know.
'Uh...wood,' I say. 'And...'
I couldn’t look over my shoulder to check and my mind had gone blank.
Big silence.
‘…wood, mainly.’

This was obviously not true.
Princess Anne squints at me like I’m a total imbecile then sniffs and moves on to the next kid.

Hassler

Been three weeks and not heard anything from Z.S.A.C. Send a polite e asking if she's had a chance to look at it and say that I know it's the Frankfurt book fair coming up so understand if she hasn't had a chance yet.

Nobody knows nothing

A friends asks if all the rejection gets me down.
‘No,’ I say. ‘Because it’s all subjective.’
He doesn’t believe me so I tell him a story:
I had finished the screenplay for “Laid Up” - a black comedy about a female lifeguard getting stalked by a foot fetishist - and was raising money to shoot it myself, asking people to buy shares in my company.
One woman I faxed was the producer of two very famous British movies in the late seventies/early eighties. An hour after I faxed she called back:
‘Darling, that was the perfect begging letter. You absolutely have to send me your screenplay. Right away, please.’
I sent it. Two days later she called again.
‘No, Darling, no. Not good. In fact it was one of the worst things I ‘ve read for a long time. I suppose you could take it to Channel 5. You’d be amazed what they put money into.’
She really said that.
Six months later and I’ve produced and directed “Laid Up” (£5,000 for a 90 minute feature shot on super-16) and we’re in post-production. A lady calls.
‘Hello, my name is xxx and I’m a producer at xxx, we have a first look deal with Sony in LA and I’ve just read “Laid Up.” I love it and want to buy it.’
‘Really? Great. How did you get hold of a copy?’
‘Oh, xxx recommended it. She said it was the best British script since “The Full Monty.”'
You can guess who that last xxx was. I have no idea what changed her opinion in those six months.
This is why I don’t take rejection personally.

E-mail from Nicky

Hi Rob
I’ve checked out your blog and love it!! Just one thing- I don’t think you have enough pictures of yourself. I can only count 15 which is obviously inadequate. Please rectify this ASAP with more wonderful headshots of you and your amusing expressions.

Love N
xxx

P.S. If you run out of photos I have lots.

Getting an agent Aussie style

Been reading about Matt Reilly, a young Australian writer.
He wrote his first book, got rejected by everyone in Oz so he paid to get 500 copies printed. Then he sweet-talked the manager of a Sydney bookshop to give him a huge window display on the grounds that he was local talent. He deliberately chose the bookshop next to the biggest literary agent in Sydney and within days everyone there was curious about this book they’d never heard of that had got so much exposure.
Two weeks later he had an agent and now he’s earning millions for the film rights of his hi-tech thrillers.
I love a happy ending. Maybe self-publishing isn’t so bad.

How long?

Two weeks since I sent the three chapters. No news.

A vote of confidence

Received the third email from a friend telling me about self-publishing and that it only costs £2000 to print your book and new technology means it’s a fraction of the price and it can look great etc…
But without a publisher (hopefully a big publisher) with their marketing and distribution clout what am I supposed to do with 500 copies of my fantastic book? I’ve only got so many friends and family. Ebay is an option. So is the Lowestoft branch of Ottokars. But it’s hardly the start of a great career.
Determined to get proper agent/publisher.

Have you read it yet?

Been one week since I e-mailed Z.S.A.C. No news.

How to bypass slush

E-mail Zadie Smith's agent's colleague (that's too many apostrophes- Z.S.A.C. from now on) and give her a brief synopsis. She e-mails straight back

'Many thanks for your enquiry and sounds very interesting.'

She asks for the first three chapters.

On networking

Go to the bookshop in Willesden Green. It's jammed. Zadie Smith does a reading and signs lots of hardbacks. I spot her agent (I checked her out on the company website) but she’s deep in conversation with Zadie Smith’s husband, Nick Laird, who I recognise from a newspaper interview. I don’t want to interrupt so hunt around for other agent-looking people.

Drinking wine and looking around when a middle-aged lady comes up.
‘Are you Nick?’
She’s clutching a copy of Nick Laird’s new book of poetry and a pen.
‘No,’ I say.
She looks at me.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘They told me he was the good-looking young man in the white shirt.’
This isn’t said in a complimentary or flirty way, she is dead serious. I look at her, then around the room. Leaving aside the question of whether I'm good-looking or not, I am definitely the only male there wearing a white shirt.
‘I’m pretty sure it’s him,’ I say and nod towards the man wearing a dark T-shirt and brown jacket talking to Zadie’s agent.
‘Are you sure it’s not you?’
I smile. ‘Honestly.’
She doesn’t smile back and obviously thinks I’m taking the piss.
‘Try him,’ I say. ‘Really.’
She shuffles towards Nick.

Zadie's mum invites us back to her house for nibbles after.
I notice Zadie's agent is making moves, saying goodbye to Nick and heading for the door. I lunge, introduce myself and give her my short spiel. She says she's not interested in thrillers but I should try her colleague, xxx, and helpfully writes her name, number and e-mail.

'Tell her I told you to contact her.'

Another nice lady.

On the way out I think I see one of the girls from the flat next to mine. What’s she doing here? I get all excited in case she's a literary agent or knows some or has tons of book contacts.

‘Hi, Rob. What a surprise!'
'Hi. What are you doing here?'
'My friend works in another branch of this bookshop.'
'Oh. Great.'
'And you?'
“I, uh… kind of know Zadie Smith’s mum.’
Which sounds daft even as i'm saying it.

Nice Teeth

Another rejection. Standard letter addressed to “Mr Gums.”

Adios and Ciao

Closing party for the school last night.
Staff, students and host families eating chicken wings, onion bhajis and vol-au-vents in a pub basement. Actually a lot of fun because the director put a wad of money behind the bar so the students were only stiff and uncomfortable until their second free drink.
Also I met Zadie Smith's mum. She came with our accountant and she's a lot of fun. Had a good chat with her and as I was leaving she asked:

‘Rob, would you like to come to a book signing Zadie’s doing in a couple of weeks.’
‘Yes, please.’ I try not to drool with eagerness.
‘Her agent will be there.’
‘Great. That would be brilliant.’

Very, very happy.

What a lovely lady. Even though I didn’t like “White Teeth” much, if Zadie Smith’s mum somehow helps me get an agent I will forever tell everybody how much I love the book.
(Real story: rented a beach house with friends in Australia and finished what I was reading. The landlord had left two books in the house and one of them was “White Teeth.” With all the great reviews, publicity and hype I thought I’d lucked out. Fifty pages in I stopped and swapped it for “The Readers Digest Guide to Wild Birds of New South Wales.”)

But I will lie for representation.

Easy viewing

Found a big bit of hardboard in a skip last night and took it home. Tore my jeans carrying it because I didn’t notice there were nails sticking out. Pulled nails out with pliers and stayed up half the night cutting up paper for Rob’s patent Agent Progress Chart. (as pictured)
Now I can see at a glance what’s been sent, who hasn’t replied and how many agents I’ve got left to try.
Notice the large space saved for the ‘YES’ responses. Some might see this as wishful thinking but I’m calling it positive visualisation. If I close my eyes I can see it now…

Who am I?

At school teaching a pre-intermediate class. They’re in groups of five and each student has a piece of paper with information about a famous person. The other students have to ask questions to find out who he/she is and the person questioned can only answer “yes” or “no.”
I wonder around the class monitoring. One group is a lot louder than the rest (teenage Brazilian, Spanish, Korean and Taiwanese boys- enough said) so I hear most of their questions from across the room.
‘Are you a man?’
‘Yes.’
‘Are you English?
‘No.’
‘Are you American?’
‘Yes?’
‘Are you a singer?’
‘No.’
‘Are you an actor?’
‘No.’
‘Are you black or white?’
‘Yes.’
Students realise the problem.
‘Are you black?’
‘No.’
‘Are you a politician?’
‘Yes.’
‘Are you a President?’
‘Yes.’
Loud cheers.
‘Are you Bush?’
‘No.’
‘Are you Clinton?’
‘No.’
‘Are you Big Bush?’
‘No.’
‘Are you Kennedy?’
‘No.’
Silence. Everyone is stumped except for the Korean who has obviously studied US history.
‘Are you Lincoln?’
‘No.’
‘Are you Eisenhower?’
‘No.’
‘Are you… Carter?’
‘No.’
I’m curious now. I can’t think of any more Presidents and most of the cards are really easy, people like Madonna or Gandhi. Who is it? I move across the room.
‘Are you Nixon?’
‘No.’
I look over his shoulder and read his card.
‘Are you…?’
He’s Elvis Presley.

Long and green and free

Found a cucumber in the middle of the road today.
It was shrink-wrapped and looked OK and no-one was around so I picked it up and took it home. Tasted fine.
I think it's a sign. It's telling me I'm going to get an agent very soon.

Don't mention the book

Been sending the book to agents for two months now and half my friends don’t ask how it’s going anymore. Either they think its too painful for me to keep being reminded about or I’ve bored them all rigid about my book for the last two years and they daren’t risk starting me up again.

With the other half I tend to have the JK Rowling Conversation. Variants of this I’ve had at least ten times and it runs along the lines of:

'So, Rob, have you got an agent yet?'
'Not yet. I’m still working on it.'
'Good for you. JK Rowling kept getting rejected at the beginning too. And now she’s richer than the Queen.'
'Yes.'
'And did you know she had to write her first book in a café because she couldn’t afford to turn the heating on at home?'
'Yes, I’d heard that.'
'It just goes to show.'

I'm a super-shaker

Off to Dorking to be cocktail barman at a friend’s wedding. All going well until I mix my second Cosmopolitan, put my fingers on the wrong bit of the shaker and chuck pink cosmo mix all over my white shirt. Very classy, especially with seven hours work to go.

“You’re not Tom Cruise, are you?” says the lady waiting for her drink.

A bad day #2

Another weird one.
Finished teaching at 1pm. Was planning lessons for the next day when I got a text from my brother. He's staying with me until he gets his house back. He said he was off to Brighton and sorry the flat was a mess. I left work and was walking home when I passed Bar Italia and saw the TV in the window. "Nail Bomb at Warren Street."
(They didn't know it hadn't gone off at that point. Just lots of smoke)
Warren Street is the station my brother would have used to get the tube to Victoria. And he'd texted half an hour before which made it about the right time.
No answer from his mobile for ten minutes but eventually he called back. He'd got to Warren St a few moments after the station had closed and was now on a bus.
Don't want to be dramatic but that wasn't a nice feeling.

Bearer of bad tidings

Starting to hate the noise of my letterbox clanging.
I've decided that post is bad because only rejections come by post. Good news arrives by e-mail or mobile. I'm pretty sure that when an agent wants to read more he or she won't write a letter.

This theory will, of course, be tested very soon.

A bad day

Bombs. What can you say. Two of my Italian students were late (they’re always late) and I bollocked them, ignoring their usual lame excuses about the tube. Fifteen minutes later our Director calls everyone into the student lounge and tries to explain to a hundred foreign students that there has been a number of bombs, people have died, there is no transport anywhere and we should all remain calm. Their English level ranges from very good to non-existent.
We watch TV. Very subdued. Two Japanese girls giggle a lot to each other and I’m sure it’s just a nervous reaction but it’s totally fucking inappropriate and I shoot them a death glare. They look like they don’t understand what’s wrong with me (These are advanced students- they can understand the TV so they know exactly what’s going on). Five minutes later they’re giggling again because someone said people might have to walk home and apparently that’s really funny. Want to strangle them. (Note: the two other Japanese students in the class seem to understand the seriousness of what’s happened.)
Go home and watch news channel all afternoon. At 5pm I decide to go to the gym. All the cafes and shops in town are closed so staff can get home, it feels like a ghost town. In Frith Street I bump into Rupert Everett.

'Hi,' I say.
'Hi.'
We both seem spacey.
'It’s all a bit fucked up, isn’t it?'
'Yeah,' he says.
‘I’m going to the gym. I need to exercise.'
'It’s closed. I’ve just been.'
I hadn’t thought of that.
'Oh. OK.'
We say goodbye. I don't ask if he wants to pretend to be my boyfriend so I can get a book deal.

2012

Herded my students into the TV lounge to watch the Olympics decision live from Singapore. The whole class wanted London to get it (apart from one recalcitrant French-speaking Swiss girl) because I'd promised them an easy test on Friday if we won.

We were studying comparatives and superlatives so they had to finish these sentences for homework:

'London is the best city in the world because...'

'London is better than Paris because...'

'Madrid, New York, Moscow and Paris are not as good as London because...'

I love London

On the bus today and the man opposite was reading a leaflet called “Looking after your Oesophageal Tube.” Two teenage girls next to me were talking:

‘I’d rather die than be fat.’
‘Would you be my friend if I was fat?’
‘No. But if I was fat when I met you, would you have wanted to be my friend?’
‘No.’
‘You wouldn’t be you if you were fat.’
‘I weigh myself every day.’

Sex with famous people

Rejection. Today is Monday. I only sent it on Thursday. By second class post. That’ll have been read well then :)

The slush pile is useless and and I have to get my book off it and directly onto people’s desks. Gabriella thinks I need a celebrity connection because the only people getting book deals are famous.

Apart from hitting Brad Pitt in the face with a toilet door or asking Patsy Kensit how you cook cod in an LA supermarket my celeb connections are all pretty low grade.

‘We need someone famous,’ she says. ‘Think.’
‘I almost got beaten up by Jimmy Nail.’
‘Who?’
‘OK.’
‘What about that porn star you went out with?’
'No.'
'Wasn’t there two of them? That’s a story right there.'
'No.'
'Or that fashion designer? He’s got millions of celebrity clients.'
'That was one date.'
'OK. So who do you know?
'No-one. (thinks) I go to the same gym as Rupert Everett and we say "Hi."'
‘That’s it?’
'Yes.'
'Well. We can work with that. Sleep with him. Rupert Everett is properly famous, even in America.'
'And that’s going to get me signed?'
'Not if no-one knows about it. You have to invite him for a coffee, sit outside, give him a snog and I’ll be on the other side of the road with a camera. Then we send the pictures to the papers.'
'That’s kind of deceitful.'
'Alright, do it the honest way. Go up to him at the gym and say you’re a struggling writer and would he pretend to be your boyfriend for a month so you can get an agent.'
'I can’t see him going for that.'
'How badly do you want to sell this book?'
'Badly. But I want to sell it because it’s a good book.'
She rolls her eyes.
'For now. If I get really, really desperate then I’ll go to Chinawhites and shag the first person off Hollyoakes that’ll have me.'
'You could be there a long time,' says Gabriella.

Saving paper

Rejection. Not even a standard letter. Instead I got my own letter sent back again with “Sorry we did not feel confident of placing this. Good Luck.” scribbled on the bottom. A friend said it looked like she was in a real hurry to get down the pub last Friday.
To add insult to injury she’d paper clipped a postcard to the top of the letter, promoting a new book by one of her clients. “A dark star is born!” said someone I’ve never heard of.

No job

School is closing. We're losing too much money so the US parent company has decided to close us down. Last day is September 9. No more work. I have to sell the book now.

Nice but dim

Finally! Evidence that someone actually reads slush. JK Rowling’s agency said No but they sent back comments and an individual letter. They are the first agency to do this and I am extremely grateful.
BUT
I don’t want to sound churlish or anything but in my letter I made it clear that my book was a page-turning commercial thriller. So how did they assess it? They took 3 pages at random (1, 5, 7) and them commented on the writing style. Yes, writing style is important but shouldn’t you judge a page-turning thriller by whether you want to keep turning pages?? At least read them in the right order. Grrr.

Not a pleasant lady. But I want her

Another rejection. Another standard letter but with a twist. This agent helpfully recommends her book (MacMillan 14.99) and adds that “if you would like to buy a copy from us for £12 please send…” This is thoughtful of her but I have the book already. I also saw her at a book reading she did in Borders once and she was a bit of a cow. She refused to answer the question I asked then got all stroppy when I asked her again. In the end the man sitting next to me whispered what I wanted to know.
So why did I bother approaching her? Because she’s known for getting mega-bucks deals for first time writers. Like the granite-balled Sharon Osbourne of literary agents.

Things I've learnt

Spent the day phoning agents to check their addresses and asking exactly what they want submitted to them and I noticed two things:

1. A lot of agents (about 30% so far) aren’t accepting ANY submissions at all. Either they’re snowed under with unsolicited stuff or they need to “devote time to existing clients”. Which means I have considerably less potential agencies to approach. On the bright side I will save money on stamps.

2. A lot of agents seem to be one-woman outfits and when I call up I get a terribly well-spoken lady talking very softly, like she’s just come out of hospital. These tend to be in the north and the west of London and invariably they don’t want to read my page-turning serial killer thriller.

Money

Found another website which lists author advances-

£2 million Nicholas Evans for The Horse Whisperer
£100,000 Jake Arnott for The Long Firm and He Kills Coppers
£2,500 J K Rowling for her first book.

6 per cent

Another no. Another standard letter. This one apologises “Please do forgive this not particularly helpful reply.” I try but can’t find it in me.

As each one comes back I send another out.
I’m prepared for at least 20 rejections. Before that I won’t be worried, even though part of me thought one of the first agents would definitely go for it and beg to represent me. I expected long lunches, schmoozing and ego-stroking. Nevermind. Found a Channel 4 website on writing. One author wrote about getting her agent-

“I queried 40 agents, over four months, ten read the entire manuscript, and three made offers of representation - a 6% success ratio.”

Will see if I can beat her.

Number two

Second rejection. Badly photocopied standard letter with big logo at the top “OUR WRITERS MEAN BUSINESS” It goes on to say “We receive 300 submissions per week and can only take on two or three new writers a year.”
How can they hope to find good stuff in that lot? And how can they afford to look at it all? I’m not knocking the agency if they don’t have the resources to read it all properly, but what am I supposed to do???

Number one

My first rejection. A standard letter 'It is not something we feel we could successfully represent.' Took 13 days to get back, quicker than I expected.

A plucking good time

Up to Suffolk to visit the crinklies and the super-crinklies. Nanny’s down to her last chicken- foxes and old age got the rest. It looks OK but when you pick it up there’s nothing on it, just skanky feathers. Message to chicken- thanks for all the nice eggs you used to make.

Someone knows someone useful

Paul calls and sounds very excited. He says a friend of his is best friends with an agent and he’s offered to do everything he can to help me. Sounds promising. I get his number and call.
“Hi there, my name’s Rob. I think Paul mentioned me.’
“Sure. I hear you’re looking for an agent.’
‘Yes.’
‘What sort of book is it?’
‘A commercial thriller.’
‘OK. What have you done so far?’
‘I’ve sent the first 3 chapters, synopsis and biography to xxx, xxx and xxx. (the three agents)’
‘Well, it sounds like you’re doing all the right things…’
I wait. He doesn’t continue.
‘Thanks,’ I say.
‘I don’t think there’s much I can do, you’re going about it exactly the right way.’
I’m not exactly drowning in offers of help here.
‘Thanks,’ I say again.
‘Right, well, get back to me if you have any more questions. Good luck.’
A very strange call.

Slush

With no contacts in the industry I have to send my stuff, unsolicited, to agents where it will sit on their slush pile and hopefully, eventually, get read. Some agents receive more than 200 submissions a week.

I get the Writer’s Handbook 2005 and start counting. There are 162 agents/agencies in the UK and of those, 67 don’t deal with commercial fiction, leaving 95 places I can approach. Most agents want you to send them your work exclusively or they won’t read it. So if I wait for each agent to reply before I send another script out, and if they take an average of 6 weeks to reply, the whole process could take 10 years and 11 months. Bugger that, I think, and decide to send three out at a time. See how it goes.

I make a list of agents who represent thriller writers and writers I admire. I choose 3 and send off letter, synopsis, biography and first three chapters. Kiss each envelope in the Post Office and work out that if I have to approach all 95 agents it’s going to cost me £201.02 in postage (second class), paper, toner and envelopes. That’s a weekend in Berlin.

Everyone loves it

Getting great feedback from the five friends I’ve asked to read ‘Clipped.’ A couple of small suggestions which I’ve looked at but they all want to read more. A good sign.

Pooh

Get a reply:

“I like this and I like the setting but something tells me that I’m not going to be the right agent for the book. It has a slightly whimsical edge to it which I think works against it fitting neatly into this hungry genre at the moment.
I am sorry, but I do appreciate being allowed to see this at this point. I wish you all the best in your hunt for an agent. I suspect it won’t take long and you will make a great success of this.”

It seems like a really nice rejection letter. Either he really is being positive or he always says “no” like this. Or he wants to sleep with my friend.

I don’t know what a “hungry genre” is. And I thought “whimsical” meant childish, like Winnie the Pooh. I look it up in the dictionary.

1. spontaneously fanciful or playful (come again??)
2. given to whims; capricious
3. quaint, unusual or fantastic

Which leaves me none the wiser. I look at “whimsy.”

1. quaint, comical or unusual, often in a tasteless way

Maybe he meant my book was “tasteless.”

An agent wants to read it

A friend phones. She met an agent and mentioned me and he wants to read my first three chapters ASAP. Great. Reread the beginning but decide it could be tighter. And the synopsis needs more work. I work flat out from Friday 4pm, finally emailing it to the agent at one o'clock this morning ready for when he arrives at work.

At two in the afternoon I get this back:

'Many thanks - I am actually away for a week but will look fwd to reading when I return.'

How late?

Finished the book. Finally it’s done, spell-checked, edited, re-edited, printed out and I’m feeling good. Now let’s get it published.