Today was going to be a day like any other. I would continue to write and expand my knowledge on self-publishing, readership building, etc. Little did I know that I would receive a call back from an agent (a woman I was directed to, but have never met or had any other form of contact with).
It started a few weeks ago, when I met a non-fiction publisher at an event and while we were talking I mentioned my self-publishing aspirations. She asked me why and whether I had ever tried sending my work out. How do you explain all the reasons behind such a decision in 30 seconds? My attempt at conveying my motivations wasn’t successful because she gave me the name of an agent friend of hers that deals in fantasy and told me to think about it. Being the “leave no stones unturned” kind of person that I am, I called the agency, left a message with the receptionist and never thought I would hear back from the agent. I was wrong.
I was shockingly composed and clear while speaking to this woman I had never hoped to hear from. I explained to her that I had never sent my work out and that her friend suggested I should talk to her. She gave me some information about agents, answered my questions and then she asked me: “So what’s your book about?”
I went on to tell her about the trilogy as a whole, the theme of racial prejudice, the development of character relationships, etc. etc. etc. When I was done my monologue she said “You still haven’t told me about the book.”
The funny part was that I didn’t think she wanted to know, I mean, she’s a busy agent. She asked to hear a blurb, like what’s on the back of a book. To this I replied that I had just the thing. And what did I do next, you ask? I READ THE BLURB THAT I WROTE TO THE AGENT. My words, my voice, to a total stranger whose job is to judge work.
So how did this conversation end? She said that it wasn’t bad and told me to send her my work. O-M-G.
Truth is, I don’t know. I think some sleeping shall have to be done on this. Gah!