An agent wrote that she thought the writing sample I sent her was well done.
She said she thought I’d found my format and knew my audience.
She said she’d probably buy it at a flea market and read it under a tree,
some long lunch hour. But she didn’t see it as a likely prospect for
a corporate publisher. That’s better than, “Your shoes are garbage.”
I’m sure she knows her business. I’m a cult writer. At best.
That’s not what corporate publishers are looking for.
Not enough cult readers.
I read banned books
and sometimes I write them.
It’s not about mail art.
It’s about Morning Joe brought to you
by Starbucks. It’s about how hard it is to imagine
something different sitting under the statue of
a famous general in the garden of your native town.
It’s about reality and the imagination.
