In 2010, Gail Hochman, my first literary agent, passed on The Revolution of Every Day, firing me after five years together. It felt as big as any break up, nearly as devastating as the end of my first marriage, even though we parted on the most amicable of terms. That sounds like ridiculous hyperbole until you take into account that I had put all of my professional and artistic hopes and dreams into her hands. Or projected that power on to her, anyway. I wanted to publish books, and to publish them well. I wanted to be read and respected as a novelist. I wanted to put books out into the world and have people read them and care about them. And at the time, I believed that having a literary agent was the only way to make that happen. And then I didn’t have her anymore. So yeah. I took the breakup hard.
Five years in the wilderness...
Five years in the wilderness...
Five years in the wilderness...
In 2010, Gail Hochman, my first literary agent, passed on The Revolution of Every Day, firing me after five years together. It felt as big as any break up, nearly as devastating as the end of my first marriage, even though we parted on the most amicable of terms. That sounds like ridiculous hyperbole until you take into account that I had put all of my professional and artistic hopes and dreams into her hands. Or projected that power on to her, anyway. I wanted to publish books, and to publish them well. I wanted to be read and respected as a novelist. I wanted to put books out into the world and have people read them and care about them. And at the time, I believed that having a literary agent was the only way to make that happen. And then I didn’t have her anymore. So yeah. I took the breakup hard.