It’s boring to read other people’s litanies of how busy they are and why they aren’t doing things. So I won’t bore you. I can just assure you that I am not silent because I am living the high life (although I did attend a morning tea on Tuesday where there were butterfly cupcakes filled with real cream. Maybe I am living the high life after all).
I really should be dropping fascinating historical snippets and revealing the secrets of the Rosewood Scrub to you. It’s been far too long since I did that. Instead I will tell you what I am doing about my book.
You can buy huge tomes on how to get published full of lists of agents, publishers and outlets for one’s creative outpourings. Any email mentioning books or novels gets tagged on gmail with offers of advice on getting published or propositions for vanity publishing. And according to Mad Men (currently on SBS television) you can get published if you get your wife to put out for the right person. Well I don’t have a wife and I am very possessive of Mr Blithe. Besides which, he doesn’t actually know any publishers as far as I am aware.
Instead I’m going to take a first shot at an Australian independent publisher that actually accepts unsolicited, unagented manuscripts and is tactful enough to label their slush pile as the “Treasure Chest.” Nothing ventured, nothing gained. It helps that it is a publisher whose books I have read and admired for content, editorial and production values. I can work my way down the foodchain later.
It’s quite a task getting the manuscript into shape. The submission has to include a cover letter, author’s bio, one page synopsis of the novel, current CV and the novel itself. I’m working my way through the list, then a final read-through of the manuscript. Finally I’ll cast it on the waters of the internet delivery system and await my verdict. I’m sure that I’m mixing metaphors there, but I’m too tired to sort them out. I think I need another butterfly cupcake.