I’m usually really on top of my reading. In the first place, I commute back and forth from New Haven a few times a week. So with the exception of the New York Times on the way in and the New York Post on the way home, I have three hours a day to paw through manuscripts. In the second place, there’s nothing like a writer/client waiting to hear what you think. You’d rather be caged with a wild monkey. And those who say, “take your time,” they are the biggest head cases all. So I like to take them out of their misery and read their pages as soon as possible.

But now, this weekend, when I have the first little “getaway” planned in a very long time, I’m up to my eyeballs in manuscripts. Fortunately, I want to read everything. Two novels that sound extremely appealing. New pages by one of my favorite novelist clients. And the blue monster. So why am I writing a post, you ask, instead of doing my work? Why are you reading this instead of sending me a brilliant non-fiction proposal?

Filed under: Agent, Writing |