Receiving my first clear no
Less than a month after sending out my first batch of ten submissions for Thin Sandwich to find a literary agent willing to represent it, I’ve received my first concrete no.
I can’t tell you what a relief it is to have an actual human being respond and tell me clearly, ‘It is not for me, Janice.’
At least they are not disappearing into the void – and I genuinely feel better for that. The received wisdom is that if you haven’t heard anything within two months, it’s most likely a no. Seemingly, it is unusual to receive a confirmation of receipt, let alone a clear and unambiguous no.
But I can’t help wondering whether, as a society, we are moving towards a place where we value and reward polish over potential? I wonder how prepared we are to dig and uncover the gems that are obscured, not immediately obvious?
And I find myself curious about this question as I send out submissions to literary agents and publishers, because it is very much like applying for a new job role. Researching potential agencies and agents who might be a match for Thin Sandwich. Crafting query letters to introduce myself. Checking and double-checking each set of submission guidelines.
With the thousands upon thousands of submissions an agent receives, what might make mine stand out? I can’t answer that. It seems to me that finding the right person to represent you and your book is like searching for a very fine needle in a humongous haystack.
But with this process, I am aware of the industry that has sprung up to help aspiring writers craft the perfect query letter and create the perfect synopsis, and I can’t help but wish the focus were more on potential than on polish. But given my situation, I would say that, wouldn’t I 😉?
So, where does that leave me and my book?
While I wait for any responses to my first batch, I will continue reworking and refining Thin Sandwich in readiness for my second batch of submissions in September and then crack on with book two 😊.
Pursuing an old dream
Below is the flier I responded to a few weeks ago, which was handed out to us as we emerged from Theatre Royal Brighton.
It’s long been in the back of my mind to try working as an extra, ever since a friend signed up for an acting course almost thirty years ago. At the time, she was looking for something new to try, though she never wanted to pursue it; simply sharing that with me lit a slow-burning fuse that never quite went out.
Fast-forward to Sunday 5th July, and both my husband and I were outside the Theatre Royal Brighton, practising our lines for our Vox Pop appearances, with me as Angry Wife and him as Angry Husband in two separate scenes. I think we both delivered realistic performances 😉.
Hopefully, the full-length film will premiere in September this year, and I will be excited to see it.
And to my delight, it seems my next piece of film work will be a music video involving a grey wig and a COVID mask 😊.
Two tiny, tiny steps towards something new, and I’m curious to see where this might lead, but mostly I am grateful to have Age is a Stage more or less on my doorstep.
A Haiku a day keeps the doctor away
Who’s going to join me in my Haiku a day challenge for the next 5, 10, or 30 days?
A haiku is a short, unrhymed form of Japanese poetry that captures a fleeting moment in nature or a specific human experience. It relies on vivid, concise imagery to evoke emotion and suggest a deeper meaning rather than stating it directly.
This is still very much a work in progress for me, but I hope that by day eighty I will at least have made some progress. I think I am still too literal with them 😊.
In English, a traditional haiku is written in three lines with a strict syllable structure: 5 syllables in the first line, 7 in the second, and 5 in the third.
So far, I’m almost at day forty of my 100-day challenge – using haikus to capture a moment each day. And yes, I know for the purists, haikus are generally used to describe the beauty of nature, but I think we can stretch a point and use it to capture any moment. Anything you notice or find yourself doing. It doesn’t need to be momentous, though of course it can be if you so choose. So far, I have found myself composing haikus while waiting for my prescription at the chemist, waiting for a bus, listening to The Archers, and sitting in the way of a breeze. I have even woken up with a Haiku ready to be written down.
I love that they offer a brief pause in my day, a way to capture fleeting moments. I also enjoy the discipline of capturing an ordinary moment within a set structure. Another way to pause and breathe.
Much like you would with a camera.
So who is with me?
To explore this poetry
Moment by moment
Until next time