Well, you can’t help gearing up, can you? Battleaxe seems to have been constantly on the go since I last posted – Christmas lunches, outings, parties, drinkies do’s, and of course, there is so much going on indoors… decorating, shopping, card-writing, present-wrapping yada yada. Then have had to manage some good news and some very disappointing bad news. First though, let’s call into Mallydams, and look at the new grey seal pups…
Indeed, all I actually did last week was look at them… and spoke to the poor babies probably more than is recommended. Jobs for volunteers are diminishing at the Wildlife Centre now winter is here, but I really like the RSPCA staff, and enjoy popping in for a coffee and a chat, and to do whatever crops up.
Grey seals have a different breeding season to the common seals. The orphaned babies are sent to Mallydams from as far afield as Norfolk.They are very different from the common seals, with more dog-like and expressive faces, more distinct personalities, and clearly more intelligence . They are also more vocal – these pups are only about 2 weeks old, unweaned, and with their baby fur. Some cry for their lost mothers and suck their own flippers for comfort. It is sad, and in many cases humans are to blame. People go too near to seals on the beach – the mothers are frightened and rush off into the sea, leaving their babies behind. When the mothers return later, they can’t find their babies… Please folks, give seals space, especially when they have small pups, and keep dogs well away from them. Here is the grey seal colony in Norfolk where some of the Mallydams orphans come from.
OK, then, let’s do the good news first. A couple of months ago I wrote that I had been to Guys Hospital for a genetic test to see if I was carrying any gene mutation that could be linked to my own cancerous episodes, with implications for my wider family. Here is the post about my experience. This week I heard from the really nice geneticist I saw before, telling me that the results of the test were negative. This is good news for my daughter/granddaughter, and for my late sister’s daughters.
Now then, the bad news. Back in September I wrote, all thrilled and enthusiastic, about the successful meeting I had about my novel, with a (nameless) literary agent, who had requested my full manuscript. Here is the over-excited post I wrote back then. That was three months ago… During that time, I sent her the gentlest possible nudge email and made an innocuous comment on one of her social media posts. No response to either. On Wednesday this week, I sent her a stronger nudge email, asking for an indication of the current position. Honestly, I promise it was a harmless message. Philosopher saw it.
Within a few hours, I had a truly disagreeable reply. She said that I didn’t understand her world, or the pressures she faced. Childcare and her ‘second job’ meant that she only read manuscripts in her ‘spare time’ at weekends. Three months was nothing – one of her authors had to wait six months. She said it was bad practice to ‘chase’ agents and the tone of my email was not ‘respectful of her time’. She did not therefore want to pursue her relationship with me.
Needless to say, I was shocked. What was she on? How on earth could I be expected to know about her family issues and her working patterns? Reading manuscripts in her spare time at weekends? Second job? Whatever is that about?
I’ve approached plenty of other agents and don’t mind at all when they say no, or don’t respond at all. But this was different – I felt I had formed a positive connection with the woman… Still, at least she didn’t slag off my work – I don’t suppose she’d even read it. Huh, her loss.
I wonder how many other literary agents are like her. How many are actually employed? How many are struggling part-time freelancers? How many are actually any good? Sure, their time management must be difficult, juggling the demands of existing clients while looking for new ones, but so it is in many jobs. It’s like being a consultant. I should know, I’ve been one and employed plenty of them. Trouble is, the publishing industry is so fogged in mystique, and for folks like me, agents have an extra-special scary aura – they are the magical gatekeepers to an imagined fantasy world of success… One imagines these perfectly dressed, elegant women with red nails and perfect bobbed hair, sitting round in posh West End offices sipping oat milk machiatos and sniggering contemptuously at one’s feeble efforts… Not so, it seems…
Don’t worry readers, Battleaxe had to woman-up. Such is life. There are other routes to get that novel out into the world. I will pursue them after Christmas.
Back to happier things. To start with, here is the most popular Digby Advent Calendar photo so far. I post photos every day in December on Facebook and BlueSky. It is getting harder to get good photos of him. At 16, he now spends much time asleep.
In the past week I’ve been to a festive Messiah, the WI Christmas meeting, Bannatynes Hotel for a Christmas lunch, the Book Club Christmas lunch, the Barefoot Opera Christmas party, and a festive Christmas tea. On and off with Christmas jumpers, Christmas earrings and Christmas boots, and in with far too much rich Christmas food washed down with gallons of mulled wine. All very jolly but a bit tiring and my digestion will shortly pack up… Here’s the Book Club lunch:
Finally, the weather. It has been grey, misty and drizzly for a week, with a horrible chill cold. And so dark… here is first, a photo from a short walk we risked in the Country Park yesterday, then a sign of improvement – a streak of sun on the sea from the West Hill this morning, and finally just now, the view from our front door. The sun has shown itself late in the day, but better late than never.
Let’s hope the sun shines for me, and for all of us ( but not that woman…)
