I have just been verbally beaten up over the phone. I don’t think my ego has ever taken quite such a knock.

I’ve no doubt it was good for me and certainly knocked me off of any high horse I may have been intending to ride.

My fatal mistake this evening was to think that I could possibly be ready to submit my work to an agent. (What a fool)

The initial phone calls went exceedingly well and feedback was positive. I was lulled, I admit, into a false sense of security. That is at least, until I dialled her number….

The sultry tones of her pristine English accent were dripping with boredom, and conjured up images of blood red talons and a starched perm.

I heard those words no writer ever wants to hear… you know the ones. They come in the night, just as you’re drifting off to sleep

…Contrived…

…Unmarketable…

And before you know it your awake in a cold sweat with the sheets wrapped around your neck.

It’s a dangerous world out there if it’s pieces of your own soul that you’re marketing.