you know you are talking to an unpublished writer when they ask, "which came first, the agent or the publisher?".
to those unpublished writers stumbling across this post, you know what i mean.
you need an agent to find a publisher, but you need to be published to land an agent.
this leaves but one option, self-publishing, which is about as appealing as masturbating in the middle of grand central station ... at rush hour ... with boxing gloves on.
but desperation requires such a disdainful maneuver.
i am such a desperate person, as i am up to my eyeballs in such disdainity!
and in the irony of all human ironies, i'm going blind as a result, never to see the words i put to print.
alas, to quote stymie of the little rascals, "hey goat hold it!".
(not sure what that has to do with this but it's one of my favorite quotes and use it whenever a quote is called for)
2 comments:
I'm just still struggling with the image of someone masturbating at rush-hour in Grand Central Station while wearing boxing gloves.
it's not fun gabe. not fun at all!
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