Literary Agents or Literary Assholes?

So I am still researching Literary Agents. Yay me right? Wrong! I must say that some of these people think they are God, playing with the dreams of amateur writers. One agency says, 'If you think you have written a good story, think again. Most writers don't know what they have to say, they are just babbling on about nothing much. We will not represent babble.' Okay who in the hell would even attempt to send their work in to this agency? I guess someone is because they are still in business. Whatever!!

Now another agency says: 'Dr. Schiavone represents published authors. He accepts queries only and will consider material of high literary quality and marketability from new authors. There is a 99% rejection rate for all queries received.' Can you say the killer of dreams? I can and it starts with Dr. Schiavone. Why even bother spending the time to put together a proposal or fiction package for someone who is basically saying, 'most of the work we receive is shit, don't bother I have enough toilet paper.

So what is a girl to do? She keeps researching, fingering her way through the bullshit and hoping to find a diamond in the rough. One that I will feel comfortable sharing my amazing work with and will represent me to the fullest. I knew it would be like this when I decided to become a writer, but it is so lonely down this crazy road.

Feelings of Guilt

Everyone deals with death differently, but taking someone's life isn't an easy thing to deal with no matter the circumstances. So when I kill off a character in one of my novels I am sad. Even if the murder victim was once the despicable murderous ass that made me want to write about him or her of course.

Murder is in fact interesting, and those who don't believe that is a liar and probably holds murder in his or her heart themselves. They want to kill or have thought of killing or has in fact planned on killing. Burning a man who raped a 14 year old girl, then sodomized and humiliated her, then hanging her on the flag pole in front of the police station or federal building where the people who are tracking him dwell, brings me pleasure when writing. But afterward? Afterward I feel guilty, but only for a minute because like momma always use to say, 'I brought you into this world I'll take you out!'

Of course that only goes for those of us who write fiction!