Nobody can hear you scream.
I've had a farcical week so far.
Set fire to my synopsis (no, not a fit of rage a la Madelynne, just a random cigarette mishap)
And I've got some terrible stabbing pain in my ear. Coaxed boyf into administering warm olive oil. Only he got cavalier and last night I got a dose of not warm, but instead what I'd maybe call hmm .... shall we say fucking scalding oil poured into my ear, a la gruesome medieaval torture practise.
I did not take it well.
Meanwhile, I'm trying to find an agent and am a bit bemused that it seems to require more effort than finding a publisher.
Vastly unprofessional and fairly ill-tempered writer, slightly maimed with partial hearing loss, invites agents to peruse her singed manuscript. It's sold already - all you need to do is explain what 'permissions' means and argue with my publishers on my behalf. Or pretend to argue with them, at least, just to make me feel important. Maybe drop me an email every so often to remind me I'm sposed to be finishing off Chapter
Gotta go hastaluegoallbye x