The Velveteen Author went in search of an agent. She soon discovered that getting an agent was harder than getting an editor.
Agents weren’t interested in her work unless she had a publisher. The big publishers in New York only wanted submissions from agents.
“This is called a paradox,” the Author said.
She entered the first few chapters of her manuscript in a writing contest, and then attended the conference, held in Vancouver. At the meet and greet on Friday night, she tried to mingle with a few agents, but they totally snubbed her. It was clear they thought she wasn’t much better than the stuff on the bottom of their shoes.
At luncheon the next day, the contest winner was announced. The Velveteen Author won! She was very happy that someone finally recognized her work.
Later in the evening, at dinner, the same agents who had ignored her the night before smiled at her, sniffing around like vultures to fresh meat. They suddenly wanted to talk to her.
The Velveteen Author realized that these agents were two-faced hypocrites who didn’t know good writing from bad writing, and could only make a judgment when somebody else thought she was good.
She wished she could find an agent who wasn’t an incompetent suck-up.