Meeting in town with my Shreditor
Austin Murphy isn’t my editor, and he would die if he knew I were calling him that.
But for you my cherished reader/riders, a little stretching o’ the truth on this AusPicious (St. Packrat’s) day is in order.
And. as my banjo teacher once said (slightly disparagingly) : “Jacquie, your glue dries fast”.
OH, damn. My ‘dateline’ is March 18 already…this is because the blog was born in Edinburgh, and observes Greenwich Time!
OK, reader, it’s still only seven p.m. Marin County time.
This was gonna be my big day, since I am a genuine Phony Irish American.
As I pedaled along in the fine spring chill, I noticed that many Marinites had opted for their green car (the color, not the philosophy) to celebrate the Irish holiday.
And to be sure, I also pulled out my green Sprite, but it had two flat tyres (“Victoria” insists her inflated rubber things be spelt that way).
So the Breezer, blue and white, bore me to a coffee shop in San Anselmo where a Real Writer (Snorts Illustrated, or “Essigh” for short) would regale me with Tricks of the Trade.
Which he cheerfully did. He also said I had a voice, and that the clunker domain was “my turf, indisputably” and all sorts of other encouraging things. Maybe I’m just twenty pages away from getting an ‘agent’.
Even telling him I’m allergic to things like responsibility and planning didn’t seem to faze him.
So watch this space.
If it remains empty, I’m probably typing my proposal….
Meantime, here’s a picture of the strange Dutchman’s Pipe, a native plant hereabouts, that should be called Dutchman’s Klootsak… it’s sorta green and faintly obscene.
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Jacquie Phelan's Weblog 
If you really want to prove that you’re genuinely allergic to things like responsibility, et al, perhaps send these editors some of your WORST work — the stuff you save for the days when your best stuff isn’t up to your personal snuff and you need a reminder of how well you actually write — and see what they do.
OR, take this fellow up on this particular thing and get an advance up front. But an agent? Heavens no. What for? All they do is sell you, and these days with the internet and what all, you can sell yourself by pasting in words and photos and pressing the “Return” key. (I’m a computer idiot and I can do that much.) All an agent will do is take his cut and run. Dear, silly bean, skip the agent. My two bits, for what it’s worth.
Go for it Jacquie. You DO have a voice and a very excellent one and a style all your own, (with hints of other famous writers as I’ve said before.) I’m delighted to hear a proposal is at hand; get on it and do it and it sounds like it may be time for the nagging to shift into high gear. And I would echo Beth’s comment above, you don’t need an agent. Look at what Taliah is doing online with her work, and I know there are other examples of writers specifically promoting their work.
Best wishes, and “to the keyboard!”
Write. Write. Write. Write. Write. Write.
Reading your stuff is a great part of any moment.
Good luck and trust your voice.
Beth is absolutely right, Jacquie. Literary agents are the worst type of parasite. I have had one experience, with a very successful book, and all the agents I met in that process provided no added value, and were interested exclusively in what they were going to get. The quality of the “contract” they produced was laughable. At some point you might want a consultation with a lawyer, but don’t ever sell part of your future to an agent.
Glad you’re working with Austin. His take on the “swerve and protect” tragedy would make me feel even better about his advice. And please do carefully consider the agent issue. You seem strong enough to do without.