Special agents

Up before the sparrows, and Lorraine got up too to drive me to Three Bridges to avoid the rail replacement service. I travelled up to Bloomsbury Publishing's offices in Bedford Square. Walked from St Pancras, which made me feel as if I were working in Tavistock Square again. Nice to walk about that part of London when it is quiet. I walked past two rough sleepers, sleeping on a warm air vent. It is suddenly much colder.

I attended an event called How to Hook an Agent, given by some well known agents. The morning consisted in several agents discussing the process of submitting your work in the best way -- and although I found I hadn't been doing anything wrong, there were definitely things I could do better, and change the emphasis. Immediately after this, and a quick bite, there was a meet the agent session, a quick ten minutes one-to-one. 

Bloomsbury publishing is home to all kinds of writers, J.K. Rowling included, and it was nice to be wandering about in their maze like offices.

My agent was the only man. I found I was quite nervous at this, because he kept saying it was a pitch, and I hadn't prepared myself for a real pitch. He interrupted me rapidly, however which put me off my stroke a bit.  Despite the fact I am an excellent pitcher for agencies, I found myself ridiculously nervous. But he gave me some excellent tips on how to structure my book pitch, so that was useful.  I had thought we were meeting two agents, but it was just the one, for ten minutes. As I was one of the first, I hung about with the other writers who were an interesting and varied lot, for a bit. Some had travelled from other countries to be here.  I left thinking that I had learned a lot, which might improve my chances of getting an agent. In the morning session I said that I'd been rejected by about 15 agents, and one of the agents Julia said I needed to get to about 40 before a major reassessment. This made me feel a lot better. 

A long journey home, with rail replacement stuff. Pleased to be home, and feeling tired. A quiet night in, which was exactly what I wanted. Lorraine had gone to the hairdressers and weirdly her hair seemed shorter rather than longer, after the straightening process, and done lots of school work, and helped Anton move his sofas during the day. She cooked an excellent chickpea and squash curry and I basked on my sofa happily.