Writing has laws of perspective, of light and shade just as painting does, or music. If you are born knowing them, fine. If not, learn them. Then rearrange the rules to suit yourself. Truman Capote

sinning and forgivenessNay sayers are human too. After the joy of success with my paperback placement, I found myself thinking of The Manager who started this tale. Begin there for the full story.

The events made me angry. The gift? an opportunity for perspective and letting go. Her shoes are smaller than mine, but I thought I’d try them on anyway.

Disruptor at large

Me calling in right then was something she didn’t need. She’d already inflicted the traditional publishers’ bums-rush on the phone and perhaps, due to busy circumstances, did the same when I popped in. Not the most sensitive treatment, yet I found redeeming factors:

  1. She did offer coffee and a chat
  2. She commented favourably on the production and quality of Angels’ Cut – even if she hadn’t read it
  3. She was polite, condescending perhaps, but polite
  4. She (with a hint of annoyance) gave me my coffee – even if she didn’t make the chat she offered

Accentuate …

I won’t rehearse the negatives. The positives are important. What else did I like?

  1. A tidy and professional bookshop. I’m sure it’s a friendly enough place for book-reading customers.
  2. Excellent coffee presented in an eccentric pot that would keep it warm for a browsing reader.
  3. The reading spaces are intimate, quirky and agreeable.
  4. The staff offer a pleasant, personable face … even to rejects like me.

Where’s this going?

I left the store miffed, after an excruciating experience. Such is life.

Did my nemesis get up in the morning thinking about the humiliating circumstances she would inflict on a hapless writer? I hope not. However, her lack of grace, dismissive behaviour and rudeness personified some stupidities of the publishing world.

Would she like me to have gone away singing her praises? I bet she would. And her bookstore is admirable.

So far, no response to my email. That’s it, move on.

© Mac Logan