ESPECIALLY because at the beginning of January – to further torment my favourite metaphor – just when the battlefield was growing quiet and the groans of my undead army were becoming fewer and farther between…there came a knock on my workshop door. Standing there was a feared and respected sorceress: the kind everyone recognizes because they smell dangerous, like ozone. And she had in tow one of MY ZOMBIES. The one I’d just unleashed YESTERDAY.
She said it was genuinely scary. That the fangs and claws were an inspired touch. It could use some more guts, she told me thoughtfully. Some intestines arranged just so, maybe. Or I could do something artistic with the eyeballs. So that it really has some punch.
But she seemed to think it could go places, this zombie, if I was open to working on it some more.
And I managed to stop grinning deliriously for long enough to respond that sure, I could do that.
SO having signed in blood on the dotted line, I am now represented by a LITERARY AGENT. Namely Lana Popovic, of Chalberg & Sussman.
Saying/typing this will never get old, you guys.