This week while my laptop was down, I did a considerable amount of research to bring you some fine sites which accept unsolicited work from new and established writers. Take a look at the writing opportunities page on this blog and find something that’s suitable for you. It's one of the labels in my link-bar above.You don’t have to be an author to find this new feature useful. I’ve found some fun sites accepting and paying for poetry and verses in greeting cards. If you’ve ever read a card and thought, ‘I can do better than that!’ Here is your big opportunity.If you’re a poet or have an opinion piece, there’s paid work out there for you. If you can knit or crochet and suggest original ideas or patterns, I found some magazines willing to pay you for them. Don’t miss out. This ‘opportunities’ page is updated every 6-8 weeks or so. Hopefully, I can find something made for you. If nothing strikes your fancy, maybe my link to paid tips, how-tos, and hints will be of interest to you.
image sourceHow The Grinch Stole Christmas! is my favourite christmas story ever. I read it to my kids several times in the run-up to the christmas holidays. I adore the repetitions and the fact that Dr. Seuss dared use 'mouses' for the plural of mouse. It shows that we can all choose our own way of writing, inject our personality into our text, and still come up with a fantastic, workable product. Next year I resolve to stop worrying about old writing rules and stick to what I know best - writing as me! MERRY CHRISTMAS, EVERYONE!
The original post (The Facebook Stalker - page 2 of 3) has now been moved to the join the start of the story. All the pages have now been recorded as one entire post. Find the complete story here.At this time of year we tend to go wild with spending. I think this is because it can sometimes seem useless trying to save money on one hand, while splashing out on goodies for the family and more Christmas decorations for the tree, on the other. However, there are still some tiny ways in which we can try to minimise the outgoings in other areas of our lives. Our wallets will thank us for it in January during the wringing-of-hands season when the first bank statement of 2010 arrives in the post.
In and around the home
This is the time when cars get randomly attacked and vandalised in the street. We’ve had our cars smashed, used for a graffiti canvas, snowballed (which resulted in a broken side window), otherwise vandalised and a windscreen destroyed, all at this time of year when it’s dark and not many people are in the cold streets late at night. (And we live in a decent neighbourhood.) Make sure that you’re parking in a safe place and save yourself the stress. As you know, claiming on insurance is not totally free. They always get you back the following year.
Speaking of car insurance, if you park your car in your drive (driveway), or better still, in a garage, you get cheaper car insurance. Having a working alarm also helps lower the premium. If you’re older than 50, why not change your policy to one aimed at older people? If your senior parent lives with you, having them as the main policy holder and you as the second driver will save you a few bobs every year.
Reduce your hot water temperature at the source. You’ll be using a lot of it now and you’ll only be mixing it with cold water to cool it down. Why not save your boiler the hard work (electricity) of heating it up to that extent in the first place.
Register with cinema chains and take your kids to the cinema for free (at certain times). Win free tickets, music vouchers and cheap popcorn too. This is the time for presents. Get yourself and family some free stuff when you have the time to use them.
Let your printer work for you. Print your coupons from family days-out sites. Get fantastic deals and free trips.
If you have kids visiting who cannot sleep without a light on, use a night (plug-in) light instead of leaving your hall lights on all night.
Watch what you’re using your credit card to buy. If you used your credit card to purchase something which came at a discount of 10%, by the end of next year the interest you will have paid on the price of that particular garment/present will add up to significantly more than you ‘saved’ in the sale (unless, of course, you pay off your cards each month).
Eating ugly is good for you
Price depends largely on how attractive the item appears to the buyer. If you don’t mind eating a pear that’s gone, well – pear shaped, you could snap it up for 30% less than the actual price. Items are always priced to make a decent profit for the retailer, so don’t feel bad because you’re not getting it for less than it’s worth.
Most vegetables are sold as pre-packaged and loose versions. The pre-packaged ones are all neatly arranged, virtually the same sizes and are beautiful to behold. The loose ones are bent, ugly and of all different shapes and sizes. There is no difference in the nutritional value of these two groups of vegetables/fruit. The difference lies with the pricing. Don’t get taken in.
Bottled water
Purchase a jug with a filter rather than bottled water. Drink pure, fresh-tasting water for a fraction of the cost you now pay. A glass jug with a filter (which you change monthly) provides you with water just as pure as the bottled variety. The difference is in your wallet.For more on money saving ideas, see my book, 'How To Spend Less.' Details on this blog.
Part 1: FacebookUser Too
It was now time to do the business. I’d waited for the last hour crouched behind the large pyracantha bush Caroline G kept by her back door. I knew it was there even before I found out where she lived. She would want it to be nice and dark before my visit. Them career types like her wouldn’t want the neighbours to see them mixing with the likes of me. Thank heavens for Facebook. The message she left for me in her update said her roommate was leaving for the airport at 6 pm, for a flight to Tuscany. It was now three hours later and pitch black outside. What was it she said on her last tweet? ‘Making dinner, then washing dishes in sink 2nite. Dishwasher broken and stupid h/mate won’t help get it fixed.’
She’s a smart girl, she is. She knew I’d been watching, keeping an eye on her profile and stuff, waiting for the right time, the right message to tell me when she was ready. You can’t force love. It just happens, like. Everyone knows that. Two weeks ago when she updated her status to ‘single’ I knew she would arrange this meeting. And if my calculations were right, the twelve used pads and three heat packs in the bin meant that her timing was perfect.I took one deep breath, heart drumming inside my chest, and carefully peered out from behind the prickly bush. My mum’s got a pyracantha in her back garden, but the needles were half the size of these monster ones here. Caroline G would have to do something about the thorny scratches I got on the side of my face, but not now. This would be nice and slow. That’s the way them girls like it aha, aha.Whoops! Close one! She was standing at the sink, washing up like she said she would be. She looked right at me, nodded, then went on as if nothing happened. That was my cue. I had to wait until she was finished; until she went upstairs for her bath, then make my way inside the flat. They usually leave me a key or an open back door or window. I never go round the front coz they lock up tight round there. I know my place, me. When nice girls like her show an interest, you can’t be too pushy. They want to call the shots, so you got to let them. There’s trouble otherwise. I have a purpose and I do my job well. When they’re hurting, I help drain the pain away. It’s like a release, what I do. I sort of make them whole again. Nobody does it better, el oh el. Like they say on Facebook and twitter and such, el oh el. I never quite get that though. Like, how can everything make you laugh out loud? I’m not a prude or anything like that, mind. But not everything is sooo funny. We used to put a little smiley face when we were growing up. I think that’s better than that el oh el rubbish.Hang on. Kitchen lights just went out. Here we go. Under the mat... above the door....Where did she leave the key? I have to admit, I like the games and all, even though it’s sometimes hard for me to work out puzzles and stuff. I’m more of a sporty type. Well, I used to be. I was really good at football in primary school. The next Maradona, I was. I reckon I could run faster and control the ball waay better than he could. I let him have the fame for it though. I live my life private, you know? And with the hand thing and all that afterwards.... Mental! Not worth it, really.Where’s that key? Under a stone... wait... once it was under a loose pavement slab. Classic! This is the good part to the build up. To be honest, I don’t like the fighting parts too much, especially with them fat girls. You know the way they have to pretend they don’t want to get the needle and all that. This right here, the build up, this was one of the good parts. I could hear water running down the drain, she was probably using the sink or getting ready for her bath or something like that. Good stuff. I like bath nights. If only I could find the stupid key.Bingo! The shed’s unlocked. That’s a good sign. That’s my girl. That’s where she would’ve left it. Silly me. I could’ve waited in there if I wasn’t so nervous about the whole thing. Missed it completely.
***I feel sick with the excitement bubbling up inside me. Water is splashing in there. She’s probably already in the bath. Couldn’t resist coming up straight away when I found she’d left the back door key in an empty paint can in the shed. I was like, woah. Smiles bursting out every inch of my face. I’d packed my tiny backpack with a special gift tonight. Caroline G was special because, well, because she was special. All them girls I meet on Facebook are special. Doctor Regan said I shouldn’t be spending so much time on the computer. That I should go out and find some real friends. What does she know, like? Facebook girls are real. For one thing, they tell you more about themselves than real girls do. I know loads about Caroline G. All her friends say Caroline G this and Caroline G that. But I know what her last name really is. I know her mum and her brother. They send her messages all the time. I’m not stupid, right. I seen her brother’s last name. It’s not difficult to work out. I added him as a friend on Facebook a few weeks ago, but he’s in Peru or somewhere rubbish like that, and he didn’t even add me back. What can I expect though, from a big time journalist who looks like that celebrity racing car man. What’s his name? That black one. Or, no, maybe he’s actually half-caste. I also know that Caroline G’s mum calls her Carrie, and I know her birthday and everything.Her ex. Now, he’s one of them big shot types. Literally. Name’s Jake. He’s got a huge, black Doberman, and a shiny black BMW, but he never uses it when he’s parked outside her flat in the middle of the night. He’s got a dark blue Ford Fiesta for that. I wonder what he’s compensating for with such big car. A little man with a dog called Doodles can raise all types of questions, if you ask me. He went on a skiing trip after they broke up, and had all these big smiley pictures posted up on his profile page as his avatar. One for each day of the week. What an idiot. Some men don’t know how to treat women. But we don’t need him anymore. Caroline G has got me now. It was after this skiing trip when I noticed how much closer we had become. She would drop hints for me so I could know where she was going to be, and stuff. I started following her on twitter and she let me into her life more than ever. She knew I like curry, so she told me when she was going for a curry night with her girlfriends. I knew the restaurant, so it was easy to meet up, really. She came and sat right opposite me. I smiled at her and she smiled right back. I knew we were right for each other from that very moment. Even though she didn’t know who I was, and had never seen my picture – not my real one anyway – it was like destiny had brought us together.
Deep breath now, before I open the bathroom door and see her.
‘Hi, Caroline G.’Part 2: Caroline G
‘I don’t think so, Jake. You’re such an idiot.’
‘You’re lucky I can’t reach down this phone and slap you in the face, Caroline. Where did you learn to talk to me like that?’‘And you wonder I kicked you out.’‘I moved out. No female kicks me out. And I am coming over, like it or not. I’ve got things to say to you and you will listen.'
‘I’ve got nothing to say to you, Jake. We’re finished. I’m not scared of you anymore. I’m moving on with what dignity I have left.’‘This is funny. You’re funny. That’s exactly what you said when we came back from Mali on our millennium trip. Look, I’m taking Doodles for a walk. See you at 10. Don’t worry about waiting by the door on your hands and knees. I’ve still got my own keys.’
‘I’ve changed the locks, you idiot. You won’t get in.’ ‘No, you didn’t! You wouldn’t, baby. Not you. We’ve already talked about what could happen if you do. You’re a smart girl. We can’t have your staff finding out that their boss in her fancy office and high heel shoes, with ‘targets’ to meet, is one of those little help-me-please-I’m-so-abused girlfriends when she’s at home, can we? Ha, ha. You know you’re mine, baby. It stays that way.’‘Jake, please.’
‘Ten o’clock, sweetheart. Me and Doodles are coming over for a visit. Get the wine ready. We have things to celebrate.’ ***This sink will be clean, all dishes washed and put away when they find me. Everything in its place. Vertical cuts are far better than the horizontal ones. Those are for people who’re too chicken to go through with it. Nice and neat, no cleaning up after. Just drain the bath, is all they’ll have to do. Ten years is enough. This is not happening anymore. I’m done.
A black eye can be hidden with make-up. A broken rib can be easily dismissed as ‘too much fun’ on holiday. But how do you hide hundreds of needle pricks on your face, in your eyes, all over your body, after your fiancé pushes you into a giant pyracantha bush when he gets mad. Drags you down the stairs, out of the house, and into the bush, just so he get his kicks by watching you sit in the bath and tweeze hundreds of thorns out of your skin. It’s all cleaner and neater in the bath. No hoovering to do afterwards. It’s such an innocent looking shrub out there, wrestling with the wind. I should burn the stupid thing, but I won’t bother. I won’t cry either. No, I won’t cry. ***Bathing for the last time feels strangely peaceful. It must be perfect when they find me. Legs and armpits have all been shaved. Jake’s old razor with the removable blade was just what I needed. I don’t want to have to make several cuts. The scent behind my ears will last until they wash my body, perfect and smooth. Ten minutes soak, just ten more minutes.
‘Hi, Caroline G.’ Part 3: Facebook user too I seen the recognition in her eyes when I grabbed hold of her mouth and pressed hard. Hard and tight. I told you. She planned all this. Right up to this very moment. She likes it clean. I know that as well as anyone else. This is why she wants to do this in the bath. She’s not a screamer. That’s one thing I didn’t plan for. All my other exes screamed their heads off. They knew how to excite me. I suppose Caroline G will learn. We’ve got time. All the time in the world, really. We could learn stuff together. She said she once she wondered what it would feel like to be in a coma and hear everything going on around you. And not able to speak and stuff. I could arrange that.
She put her hands to cover herself up when I turned around to get my little back pack. I will get rid of her pain the right way. For her, I’ll use a brand new needle. My gift to her. If she wanted the coma thing, we could do that too. Maybe. I never quite got that bit right before.
‘I’ll take my hands away now. Right. Be calm, everything’s gonna to be alright.’
She nodded. She understood.
‘Put your arm out, Caroline G.’
‘How do you know my name? Please, what are you doing to me? Please don’t hurt me. Just take what you want.’
She knew our game. She played it just right.
You have to get the needle in just right. One of my exes had such small veins, it took me like ten minutes just to insert it. Eventually, I had to use a vein in her foot. Silly cow. The messages she left for me on Facebook were always about how cold she was feeling. Shut up already, I said. I did take a nice fleece blanket over to her flat when I visited. I know how to be a gentleman, me. She was the hardest one. It took a long time for her release. A long time. And it didn’t end nice. But that was way back when I was still learning. I’ll be alright tonight. Apparently, which I only found out later on Google, low blood pressure means the blood takes a long time to drain.
That’s no good, is it? For release you got to have a complete drain. Complete. Bleed all the bad love out. Add a drop of mine in, then bleed the good love in. That’s my plan anyway, but that sort of thing takes practice, as you well know. That release is just what Caroline G needed. She knew it too. She smiled when she gave me her arm. The needle went in all nice and smooth. See? I’m learning with each one. I’m getting better all the time. Now we wait.‘Singing makes it go faster. Sing something, Caroline G.’
‘What? What do you want me to sing?’
‘Anything you like. While I bleed the bad love out.’
I knelt beside the bath, lay the blood bag on the floor and waited with her. I’d heard better singing voices than hers, to be honest. But she chose a good song. Can’t beat Michael Jackson, no day. I’ll miss him, I will. I wonder what killed him in the end. Everything went so quiet, like, all of a sudden. Someone must be hiding something, no doubt. I crossed my legs and sat down. Bleeding love takes a long time. We could be here for a while.
She’d clenched her jaw when I stuck the needle in her vein. She was happy that it was me doing it and not one of them doctors down at Accident and Emergency. I seen them stick people in the arm without even looking at their faces. Everyone is just a victim to them, another person for me to wheel away to the mortuary, just another corpse. But I always see the fright in patients’ eyes. When they’re on my stretcher, they’re in my care. They don’t look at me. No one does. Doctor this and doctor that are always more important than the man behind the stretcher. Alive in one direction, dead in the other. I seen them, and that fish look in their eyes. But I’ll show everyone. I may be just a porter, but I possess the power to heal too. It’s a natural gift. Runs in my veins - literally. ‘Keep singing!’
Sometimes my voice gets louder than I want it to.
She jumped out of her skin, splashing the front of my jumper with bath water. I leaned over and pushed her head under the water a little. Just to calm her down a bit. She likes water, she does. I caught her scent when I got close to her. She smelled like... like... what was it she told me on Twitter, she bought? ‘Bought some DKNY – the apple version – today.’ I let her back up. She stared at me with that same sort of fish look in her eyes while I changed the blood bags. She understands.
‘I went to the chemist that very afternoon you told me about DKNY. Sprayed some on my wrists. Trying to save a bit of money for us to go away on a skiing trip, my Caroline G, so I didn’t buy it or anything. It’s a ladies’ perfume anyway. I don’t know how to ski, but I suppose I can learn. Been going to the chemist every afternoon since. Been spraying the DKNY on my wrists. Am wearing some now. Here.’She smelled my wrists and looked up to me and smiled. Such a sweet smile she has. It was the first thing I noticed about her when we found each other on Facebook. I smiled back. The whiteness in her face was beginning to show. It would soon be time.
Part 4: Caroline G‘Hi, Caroline G.’
His hands were around my nose and mouth before I could say anything. My pulse beat hard against my neck and I wondered for a split second if there was enough bubbles in the water to stop him seeing my nakedness.
I must not scream. Keep calm. I’ve got to keep calm and do as he says. Whoever he is, I’ve got to keep calm, tell him where my bank cards are.
‘Put your arm out, Caroline G.’
‘Please don’t hurt me. Take whatever you want.’
Wouldn’t it be better for him to just do it? I may have chickened out at the last minute. Instant death by an instant burglar happening by. ‘What are the chances, Caroline? You always get what you want, Caroline. Golden girl, Caroline.’ Jake’s voice clicked inside my head. A switch tripped, and then dying wasn’t what I wanted to do today. Jake wasn’t going to get what he wanted, not today anyway.
‘Sing!’
‘Beat it’ had been playing inside my head all day. It’s an appropriate song. The needle hurt, but I suppose chopping my wrists up would’ve hurt even worse. The crack-head had probably only ever used a needle to pump drugs in his arm. But at least he’s not injecting me with anything. A new, packaged needle. I should be alright. One bag of blood. He’ll leave and I’ll be fine. Some bizarre robbery this is.
(What are the chances, Caroline?)
I eyed the razor on the side of the bath and images of CSI and a tub of red water flashed across my mind. I felt as though I’d had a bottle of red wine poured down my throat, stumbling, stumbling, fading...Please, let it be just one bag.
‘Keep singing!’
His black jumper burst before my vision and before I could take a breath his hands were on my face pushing, pushing. Before my last breath, he let me go, and air filled my lungs in weak, tiny gulps. Is he changing the bag?
‘Am wearing some DKNY today.’
He forced his hands before my face and fear punched a fist into my throat. There were wild zigzag cuts cascading in every direction on both his wrists. He’s going to do that to me! I looked deep into his face for the first time and saw madness so complete, his eyes no longer looked outward, but within.
He must have seen my panic because even in my blurred vision, I saw him smile.
I should fight, I should wake up, but darkness and peace had come to claim my soul. Silent, peace, no more pain.
‘Who’re you?’ There’s movement, sounds, tousling, maybe a scream, maybe two, then Doodles’ wet tongue on my face.‘Baby! Baby!’Hands on my neck. Feeling, prodding. (What are the chances, Caroline?) Scluuppp of draining water. Something - warm and dry my front.‘...you’ll feel a sharp prick now.’ More needles. Something – warm and dry – soft under me.Voices floating in the ceiling.‘...Last night....Carrie’s flat....Thank heavens for Jake.’The End
This is a series of tutorials geared towards the creative minds of bloggers and writers. The first instalment concerns naming your blog. Subsequent articles in this series will be posted at intervals here on A Blogger’s Books and this page will be used as the anchor from where you can find links to all of them. Subscribe to my posts so that you can be notified when blog posts appear.
Lesson 1 is immediately below. You will find links to the other tutorials at the end of this article.
Lesson 1: How to Create A Great Name For Your BlogNaming your blogWhen it comes to naming your blog, you may think this is a pretty easy and personal task. You’ve obviously had names that mean something special to you, swishing around in your head for a long time.
Wait. Actually, this is one of the hardest things when it comes to starting a blog. If you don’t mind your blog being another one of the millions of personal online journals no one else is interested in, it would be fine to give it an individually creative name. However, I suspect you’re hoping to manage a blog that will be publicly read, will be listed by search engines, and that people will search for when browsing the Internet. In that case you’ll have to think carefully about what name you wish to use. To find your blog name you must first consider of the following points.
What is your purposeThink carefully about the purpose of your blog. What are you giving to your readers? Blogs that are streamlined and targeted (not niche) have a better chance to be listed high in the search engines (in the long run) than more general blogs with pick and mixes. Sure, mix-bags blogs will be popular too. I have friends who have well-liked general blogs, but they’ve had to work longer and harder for their sites to rate high in the system. If you’re looking for staying power, and if you establish yourself as (say) a collector or expert in Spring flowers, after a while Google will be sending traffic your way when someone types in ‘Spring Flowers’ in the search panel. Take heed that it will take at least a year for this to start happening, but the more it happens, the more it’s likely to happen again and again.
Of course you may wish not to only stock pictures and information about Spring Flowers. You may have all types of other regular posts and images, but your main purpose has to be kept firmly in mind when considering your blog’s name.
Who are you targetingIn other words, who will your customers be? Who is your material aimed at? Are you targeting older people, women, younger people, gardeners, other bloggers? You also have to work this out before you name your blog. Your mood and tone and the words you use to name your blog would be slightly different when considering your audience. For example you may want to use words like ‘information,’ ‘facts about,’ ‘all about’ for students and younger people. If your audience are gardeners you may use words like ‘expert,’ ‘seasonal tasks,’ and ‘planting’ in the name. If you’re catering for general web users and bloggers surfing for just the pictures you may just want to say ‘photos of’ or ‘pictures’ in your title.
Popularity in the nameAgain, using the scenario of spring flowers, you want to know exactly what terms or phrases are most popular in the searches for your specific topic. Visit the Google Keywords https://adwords.google.com/select/KeywordToolExternal page and type in your topic. Consider all the words that come up in your selected keyword phrase. You have the option to use just keywords, or general descriptive words or phrases in your search. It’s a good idea to make your choice depending on which phrase/word comes up more often when people are looking for information on or pictures of (spring flowers) your chosen topic.
There are few other things, but as a new blogger, these are some of the most important ones when choosing your name. Once you’ve considered all of the above, you’re ready to type in the name of your blog. Make sure the spelling is perfect and to ensure you get first dibs when people type in search words, express it in the way you would, were you typing in an actual request in your favourite search engine. For example, you want to blog about pets for young children. You won’t name your blog, ‘My lovely house pets.’ You’ll go with a name like, ‘Best Start-Up Pets for Young Children’ simply because this is what mothers would type into their search engine, were they looking for information about pets that are suitable for their little kids.
You’re ready to move on, but there is one important thing you should do before your name is set up.
Describing your blogOn your dashboard (Blogger) under setting, you’re required to include a description of your blog. As far as possible (and as naturally as possible) use some the words you found at the Google keywords site, stating clearly what your blog is about. Don’t leave this panel empty because you’ll be doing yourself a disservice. We will talk about this later, but on your Settings page (Blogger) under basic, you can opt to add your blog to Blogger’s listings, or ‘let search engines find your blog.’ A blog description therefore, is very important if you want your blog to be included in these lists. Your blog name should reflect its description.
You’re now ready to name your blog. Part two (link immediately below deals with blog posts.
Part 2: Blog posts (how to blog, part 2)Other Blogger Tutorials you will find useful
What does Blogger nav bar do?How to resize Facebook 'networked blogs' widgetOnline-writing tutorials (more below)
How To Add Google Webmaster Tools To Your BlogHow To Customise Feedjit Widjet On Your BlogVital Settings For Your Blogger Blog: The Newbie GuideHow To Add a 'Share This' Button On Your BlogVital Settings For Your Blogger BlogBlogger's Top Gadgets (more below)
Use Your Blogger Nav Bar: Share on Google Buzz5 Fun Gadgets For Your BlogDoes Face Book Send Traffic To Your BlogAlexa.com And Your BlogHow To Monetize Adsense For Search On Your BlogFree Gadgets To Increase Page ViewsHow To Create A Blank Page In Blogger (more below)
Make More From Adsense: Tips For Small Time BloggersFree Gadgets To Monetize Your BlogBlogger's Got New FeaturesBlogger's Most Useful Gadgets10 Ways To Make Your Blog Post Popular
How To Create An Adsense Channel For Your BlogOptimizing Your Pictures Increases Blog TrafficDo A Paid Review On Your Blog20+ Must Read Articles For The New BloggerHow To Get Super Ideas For Blog PostsOptimising Pictures On Your Blog Increases Page Views5 Ways Com Luv Can Improve Your Blog
More Blogger tutorials to follow.
I often wonder how it benefits writers for Literary Agents to request hard-copy manuscripts only. We toil at the computer from morning until night time. We neglect our families and hair appointments so that we could finish that all-important chapter (all the chapters are important, right?). We stalk Agents’ sites and listings so that we could pick the perfect one for our genre. We find one after hours of searching, only to read, ‘Sorry e-mail submissions not accepted.’Bummer!Okay, I know there are two sides to this story. Happily (it depends how you look at it, work with me here), I don’t know the other side. What I do know is that this puts pressure on our already skint resources. If you haven't heard the word ‘skint’ before, look at a writer's larder and you'll see what I mean. We have to print several copies of our work and stamp each one not once, but twice so they could be easily returned. (I don't want them returned!) In fact, some agents insist you’re not a proper writer if you 'don’t take the time' to include an SASE in your submission package. Notice it’s now a ‘package,’ not just a ‘letter.’ After all the writing – on a computer with a broken ‘E’ key; editing – in the cold, because the heating bills haven’t been paid; printing – off a cousin’s office printer when her boss stepped out for a ‘meeting’ from which he returned with lipstick on his collar; post office visits – in the old banger with the duct-taped side window; posting – with money borrowed from the weekly shopping budget; we’re expected to wait for nine months for a reply.Some of this is exaggeration. Okay, most of the last paragraph is exaggerated (apart from waiting for nine months for a reply). But you see where I’m coming from. I asked in one of my early posts on my older blog, 'Do I Need A Literary Agent?' Can you blame me? I’m sure you’ve asked yourself this very thing.I don't dislike Literary Agents. Honest.
