tonight, an agent turned down my proposal by saying it was a story all older women know and younger women don't buy books and editors won't want it.
fortunately the email containing this psychological blow came on the train ride home after an evening where i randomly wound up out to a dinner where my supervisor's crashing of jeremy irons's dinner table was narrated by one of britain's premier literary biographers. a meal spent with a bunch of literary men who, every time i told one of them i was writing about jackie onassis, he would say now, THERE'S an interesting story.
when i was working at a dead-end job, lindear used to always remind me: these people are not your future. this is maybe the most valuable advice ever for anything. trying to get your life's work published probably most of all.