Wife Jenny got the mail last Saturday afternoon and handed me an envelope from Larsen-Pomada Literary Agency out of California. I took it and walked away with indifference.
“Aren’t you opening it?” she asked.
“I guess – maybe later,” I answered.
“Well, what if it’s good news?” she said.
“Here, you open it if ya want,” I answered. “Connecticut just knocked me outta March Madness so I’m not feelin’ real lucky right now.”
I thought it was just another form letter from an uninterested agent informing me that they were either too overwhelmed with other book requests to even glance at my query letter, or that my subject matter wasn’t anything they’d be interested in. Same old, same old – like it’s been throughout the first 2 1/2 weeks of this push to publish.
“Hey, wait a second. This actually looks kinda good,” Jenny declared as she entered the living room where I was sitting in my own sulk.
She handed me the letter and lo, even though it indeed was a form letter, this one from Larsen-Pomada was much longer than any others I’ve received. It also started out much more light-hearted than the chilly responses I’ve gotten up to now. As my eyes scanned the page, I noticed about three-quarters down that a bulleted line had a checkmark by it:
“If you have completed your novel, please send Elizabeth Pomada the first 10 pages followed by a two-page synopsis, double-spaced in 14-point type, in the body of an email letter, not as an attachment to email@example.com.”
So a little bit of good news, but I honestly believe it’s probably just a precursor to frustration. Kind of like the saying, “Life’s a beach and then you drown.”
But who knows? I certainly don’t. I do know that last night I put together the first 10 pages of my book and a two-page synopsis, and emailed it all to Larsen-Pomada Literary Agency.