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?
Monday, October 24, 2005
Sunday, October 23, 2005
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
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
Sunday, October 16, 2005
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.
Frankfurt is October 19-23 so maybe she really is snowed under.
Friday, October 14, 2005
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.
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.
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
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.
Monday, October 10, 2005
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.
‘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.
Saturday, October 08, 2005
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.
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.
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
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.
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.
Sunday, October 02, 2005
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.
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.
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