I’m not into necrophilia, bestiality or sadism … no point, therefore, in flogging a dead horse.  MacL

Somewhat Battered?

rejection OPTNot many people know I’m a masochist, least of all me.

Based on the evidence that follows, it may stand to reason … is unreason a better word? Ah well, I suppose that’s the book trade.

Not so long ago I met a crime writer friend in a fantastic city near where I live. In the Scots way of things, good craic is inevitable over a glass or two.

On my way to the get-together I wandered into a large bookshop. I toured the shelves, pleased to note my friend’s books were in stock, and those of another couple of Crime Writers I know. And, just happening to have a copy of Angels’ Cut with me, I went to the front desk and enquired if they considered work by local authors.

The answer was yes, and I should call back in a few weeks for a response from the Manager.

Reality Bites … Hard

The call went something like this:

I’m the writer who dropped off Angels’ Cut. [I’m smug: looking forward to a warm greeting,  admiring buttery words and an ego massage]

Oh yes … We’re not interested.

[ouch!] May I ask why? 

It’s not the type of book we carry. [My eyes deceived me the other day as a browsed the thrillers] But I must say it is well produced. [I close my eyes at a small blessing]

Please tell me more.

Actually, we don’t have a call-off arrangement with your distributor. [I stay quiet] You published this. [yup]

Yes. And I’m a published author too, as it happens. And I’m a local writer which is why I dropped by..

As I say, we don’t have a call-off arrangement with your distributor.

I can arrange to have it supplied on a Print-on-Demand, call-off basis, by [I mention one of the worlds leading book suppliers].

We don’t deal with them either. [A note of triumph]. Why don’t you call in and collect it, it’s in perfect condition.

Okay, will do.

You’re welcome to a cup of coffee and we can have a chat.

That’s kind of you [talk about being British about it], I’ll be in touch next time I’m in town.

Somebody once said that which hurts instructs. If you’ve been around in the writing game for a while, it’s possible you’ll have experienced some of the pain. I hope some of the gain as well. Feeling a tad bruised after the call, I put off making contact for a wee while, and then, yesterday, I called.

What happened?

My next blog tells more and here are a few thought-starter questions to keep you going:

  1. How many boxes of tissue did Mac need?
  2. Did Mac run screaming from the shop?
  3. Was the coffee forthcoming? Poisoned?
  4. Could Mac avoid blowing his top?
  5. How did Mac avoid arrested for Breach of the Peace?

What happened next?

© Mac Logan

*jar – informal Brit: a glass of alcoholic drink, esp beer: to have a jar with someone. Free Dictionary