Ok I totally need an agent… unless someone is going to trip over me in New York City and accidentally tear open the backpack full of notebooks I carry around to inadvertently discover the novel, script, poems, and other stuff I’ve got together… which I don’t see happening.
Same as the handful of times I’ve submitted directly to publishers… I found one that I’m going to hit up when my book is in tighter form over the near-coming weeks. Now and then I read the ‘submit submit submit’ advice put forward by other writers… hopefully one day I catch up with all that. At the moment between my blog, redbubble stuff, horror flick, and book… I don’t have the time.
So today I googled ‘New York City literary agent’, clicked the first link to come up, and picked the agent with the coolest name.
For some reason the whole me + agent + publisher thing has always been a struggle. Not that it’s complicated to figure out… I love writing. I firmly believe I should be making a living doing it because I’m passionate about reaching as many people as possible with words.
Agents and publishers have this secret power to shoot you down as a writer like no other. It sucks. Hopefully this time it’s different…