Agents, publishers and earthquakes.

I haven't been here, you may have noticed.

But i'm back.

And everything is not all happy in The Writers camp.

Sy and i went away for a few days, to Sy's mate Sids place, down south.

That was lovely.

It was what happened either side of that break that's crap.



As you all know, Sy has two books he's working on at the moment.

Through years of research, he has discovered who the 'Real' King Arthur was, where he lived, and most importantly, where he died and was laid to rest.

The other book is about good 'ole Will- his involvement with the Gunpowder Plot, his 'other' wife and how he didn't die after a drinking binge but was murdered.



Now, i think these are pretty big things to have discovered. Not just about one world famous person, but two.

and believe me, i am no pushover when it comes to trying to make me believe something. I have questioned Sy constantly about these two subjects, to the point where he must have felt like fitting me with a custom made scolds bridle.

I believe what he has discovered to be true. And i support his theories and information.



But- after two years, Sy's agent doesn't seem to think he can help him anymore with the publishing of these books, so has dumped him.

Quite unceromoniusly as well, i might add.

By e-mail.

And he say's that he doesn't like the title of the Arthur book.

I feel partly to blame for this, as i found the agent for Sy in the first place.

And i am fully aware that Sy is a bit maverick in his approach to some things. Especially his writing.

But am i wrong to think that when an agent gushes over your work and says that they want to represent you, that just maybe, they won't throw a hissy fit, if they don't like the title of your book?

And when that agent takes the time to phone you, to tell you that they want to take you on in the first place, and sends you a contract, you expect them to at least have the decency to end the relationship in the same way?

Obviously not, and the bloody contract isn't worth the paper it's written on.

Why do agents make you feel like they are doing you a huge favour by taking you on?

After the initial phone call from Sy's agent telling him that he had been accepted on the agents books, he never got another phone call from him.

Sy phoned him a couple of times, but i thought there was supposed to be some sort of relationship- not friends maybe, but 'how are you doing, is there anything i can do to help' shouldn't have been out of the question, i'd have thought.

Big hairy bollocks.

'Arthur' is out with two publishers at the moment, who Sy contacted himself.

The publishers have had the manuscripts for over two months.

I bullied him into contacting the one who has had it the longest, and had said that after he had read it, maybe he and Sy could meet up.

This was all by e-mail, and this publisher who he contacted over two weeks ago, still hasn't replied.

I'm beginning to think there is some sort of conspiracy thing going- the ex agent has contacted these publishers to say' don't touch this writer with a barge pole.'

I'm hoping that's bollocks.

But feckin hell, the tensions getting too much in this household.

Interestingly, i discovered a blog post on The Guardian books website today about the reply to the agents 'queryfail' twitter thing that caused a lot of upset to the writers of this world. In case you don't know, this was a thing set up by agents, telling the world about (what they felt) were the worst queries they had received from writers.

In response, an American agent, on her site, has given the writers a chance to vent their spleen about agents. It makes cool reading (over 300 replies) and makes me feel a bit better.

On top of everything else, we went away to get away from all this agent and publishers stuff',

and so i wouldn't worry about Darling Daughter who had gone to Italy on a school trip.

Well, you know the rest.

Thankfully, she is home safe and sound, which is more than you can say for those poor Italians.

But i'm starting to go bald, thanks to all the hair pulling out, and i seem to have developed a slight stammer.



Till next time,

Shakespeares Housekeeper xxx