On why my agent doesn't love me (sniff, poor me)
o'Mike: "I was thinking about non-fiction. What about you writing about moving to Australia?"
Monkey-shines: "It's a great idea, Mike. Weird story. Bizarro extremis."
o'Mike: "I meant a sort of guide. Practical advice. A lot of people must be doing that."
Monkey-shines. "Oh yeah, herds. Like about 200 000 South Africans - maybe quarter of a million. But it wouldn't work."
O'Mike: (and you can hear the tone of the word crackling off the typescript) "Why?"
Monkeyshines: "Because o'Mike, every other one of these blokes did this in a normal way, got a normal visa that a million other people get, went to a normal destination, took the normal things with them, and had a normal profession and go to a normal job. I got a weird visa they give to maybe 2 people a year, I'm going to an island in the middle of the Bass Strait with 800 people on it, that has a once a week ferry that takes 8 hours (and sheep), a place that no one ever heard of, not -like all the others to Perth or Sydney or Brissy. I'm taking my dogs, cats and a large rock with me (not really your average suburban resettler's luggage), and I have (in case you haven't noticed) a very different profession and I take my job with me."
o'Mike: "Oh."
Monkey-shines: "But it would still make a hilarious, bizarre story. A sort of 'how-not-to-do-it' advice book."
He seems to think this is not what the non-fiction publishing world wants. (sniff. Poor me.)
Monkey-shines: "It's a great idea, Mike. Weird story. Bizarro extremis."
o'Mike: "I meant a sort of guide. Practical advice. A lot of people must be doing that."
Monkey-shines. "Oh yeah, herds. Like about 200 000 South Africans - maybe quarter of a million. But it wouldn't work."
O'Mike: (and you can hear the tone of the word crackling off the typescript) "Why?"
Monkeyshines: "Because o'Mike, every other one of these blokes did this in a normal way, got a normal visa that a million other people get, went to a normal destination, took the normal things with them, and had a normal profession and go to a normal job. I got a weird visa they give to maybe 2 people a year, I'm going to an island in the middle of the Bass Strait with 800 people on it, that has a once a week ferry that takes 8 hours (and sheep), a place that no one ever heard of, not -like all the others to Perth or Sydney or Brissy. I'm taking my dogs, cats and a large rock with me (not really your average suburban resettler's luggage), and I have (in case you haven't noticed) a very different profession and I take my job with me."
o'Mike: "Oh."
Monkey-shines: "But it would still make a hilarious, bizarre story. A sort of 'how-not-to-do-it' advice book."
He seems to think this is not what the non-fiction publishing world wants. (sniff. Poor me.)