When I was ten years old I was obsessed with the idea of being an author. So much so, I wrote my first book at school, often refusing to do the school work (and being allowed to get away with it!).
Rather darkly, the book was called 'Mugged' where a woman was attacked by a woman, who then fell in love with her mugger, who then raped her. She had two of his babies, and he killed one of them by throwing it from a train. Aren't young brains fascinating?! Blimey. My Dad would allow me to read each new installment to him every weekend when he'd collect me, and he encouraged me, without judgement (Go Dad!).
Last week I received an exciting email from a literary agent, who was wondering if I'd ever considered writing a book proposal. My answer was pretty much, "Hell yes."
So we met this week, and we're going to give it ago. Basically an agent helps you get your proposal together, and then tries to sell the idea to a publisher. It is completely possible that no publisher would give a crap about my book, but it's awesome to even be considered by an agent. Even if it amounts to nothing, I'm going to enjoy the moment, and I'm excited to sign the contract.