With the exception of the two minutes I had to escape from the shackles of administrative paperwork, and post that article on author platforms, today has been filled with idiocy.
So, as I said previously, Patch and DraggyFeet thought I was the Office Assistant. But, oh you wait. It gets better. They thought Intern was an Agent. I promptly informed them that she is the Intern. Their response, ‘Oh, but she’s so good at her job.’
What they’ve been here a day, and all they’ve seen her do is flip through some of the slush pile and try to fix what she broke on the database. But just because she has shiny satiny brown hair that falls in lovely little waves, instead of a giant mass of unruly ginger hair, she’s doing a great job.
Then Giles rings and tells me to show Patch ‘the ropes’. Confused, the conversation went something like this:
Me: Show him the ropes? He probably knows more about his job than I would.
Giles: True. Sales is sales. And he’s a damn fine chap at that. But will need you to go over the client list with him.
Me: Sure. I’ll get him started on the contracts. They’ll need to be rewritten for the [New Agency], and if he can do that rather than us taking them to the solicitor that would save a bit of money.
Giles: I want him to have a look, but they still need to go to the solicitor.
Me: So, he’s just doing internal governance then.
Giles: Why do you think he’s governance?
Me: Because he’s an insurance salesman.
Giles: Was an insurance salesman. Now he’s a literary agent.
Pardon? That’s all I could say. Pardon?
Giles: He’s a good lad. Good lad. Sales is sales. We’re lucky to get him on board. Especially with a young family and a commute from Edinburgh. Really had to dangle the carrot with him. But sugarcoat that carrot with honey, you’ll get the horse.
I have never heard that metaphor in my life, and there’s a good reason for that. Because it doesn’t fucking make any sense.
Giles rung off. I sat down with Patch and talked him through what we do and I was getting started on our client list when I got the following email from Giles.
Second thought. No point in you wasting too much of his time. He’s the type that learns by leading. If you can jot it all down in a manual and pass it over to him I’m sure he’ll be up and running.
I called Giles, who immediately bitched at me for not going through UberPA. I dismissed his bitching and said that I had a lot, like a Fuck Load, of proper work to get on with, and I didn’t have time to write a ‘How to be an Agent’ manual.
He ignored me and said, ‘Bullet points deary. Bullet points. Maybe a power point.’
And then rung off.
So, I spent the day writing the ‘How to be a Literary Agent’ power point presentation.
I need to find out if it’s too late for me to quit. I cannot lose the money he’s paid me for my part of the agency, we need that for mum’s house. And I can’t afford to be jobless, not with HP’s tenuous job situation (I’m not convinced that Candy’s business isn’t going to go under at any minute). But, I cannot stay here.